Greg's Journal: Why I Created Silent Night

Greg's Journal | Entry No. 8

People sometimes assume that because Marion and I own a lavender company, we sat down one day and decided we needed a sleep spray.

That's not really how it happened.

The truth is much simpler. Marion had already created dozens of products. Soap. Lotions. Lip balms. Body oils. Bath products.

She has a gift for developing recipes. She researches ingredients, experiments, refines, and somehow manages to make everything feel thoughtful and intentional. Bloomfield has her fingerprints all over it.

I was proud of what she had built. But I wanted to build something too. Not because I needed my own project. Because I wanted to contribute something that reflected my own experience.

For me, that experience was sleep.

The Obvious Choice

I've spent most of my career helping people sleep.

Not the kind of sleep you get in your own bed. The kind that happens in an operating room.

Every day, I watch anxiety turn into peace. I watch people take one last deep breath before they drift off. I've spent years studying the brain, medications, physiology, and the incredible systems that work together inside the human body.

So one day I thought,

"Why aren't we making a sleep spray?"

We grow lavender. I've spent my career around sleep.

It just made sense.

We Can Make It Better

When I started researching pillow sprays, I noticed something interesting.

People liked the idea. They didn't always like the products.

One complaint kept showing up.

"It smells too strong."

"Too perfumy."

"Overpowering."

That immediately made sense to me. If your goal is to relax, why would you want a fragrance demanding your attention?

I didn't want someone climbing into bed thinking,

"Wow, that's strong."

I wanted them thinking nothing. I wanted the scent to simply become part of the background. A quiet signal. A familiar routine. Almost like turning down the lights before bed.

Subtle. Comforting. Gentle.

Back to the Beakers

Marion laughs about this now.

When I started working on the formula, I made her order laboratory beakers and graduated cylinders. Kitchen measuring cups weren't going to cut it.

My chemistry background probably has something to do with that. I like precision. Maybe it's the Marine in me. Maybe it's years of calculating medication doses. Maybe it's simply how my brain works.

Whatever the reason, I wanted every measurement to be exact.

The first version? Too strong. The second? Closer. Then another. Then another. I think I made four or five versions before I finally landed on the blend that felt right.

Some people actually preferred the stronger versions. I didn't.

Sleep shouldn't feel loud.

Why These Ingredients?

People often ask why I chose lavender, chamomile, vetiver, and magnesium.

Each one had a purpose.

Lavender was obvious. We grow it ourselves. It's been associated with relaxation and evening routines for generations.

Chamomile surprised me. I simply loved the way it softened the blend. It added warmth without becoming overly sweet.

Then there was vetiver. If you've ever smelled pure vetiver oil, you know it's assertive. To me, it smells like fresh earth after you've turned over a garden. Almost smoky. Grounding.

By itself, it was far too much. But in tiny amounts, it anchored everything else. It's the ingredient most people don't notice. Which is exactly why I wanted it there.

Magnesium came later. I use magnesium in anesthesia. I understand its role in patient care. When people see magnesium, they naturally associate it with relaxation.

The challenge was figuring out how much to include. Too much, and it could leave residue on linens. Too little, and there wasn't much reason to include it at all.

So I kept adjusting until it felt right. Like everything else.

More Than a Fragrance

Here's what I hope people understand.

I didn't create Silent Night because I think a bottle solves everyone's sleep problems. It doesn't.

Good sleep is bigger than any one product. It's your habits. Your routine. Your environment. Your mindset. Your willingness to let the day end.

What I wanted to create was something that fit naturally into that routine.

Spray your pillow. Turn down the sheets. Take a deep breath. Let your brain recognize that it's time to transition from doing to resting.

That's what interested me. Not selling a fragrance. Helping people create a ritual.

The Quiet Signal

I've come to believe our brains appreciate consistency.

Children certainly do. Adults probably need it just as much.

The same bedtime. The same routine. The same familiar signals.

Over time, those habits begin to mean something.

I wanted Silent Night to become one of those quiet signals. Not something dramatic. Not something that demanded attention. Just something your brain gradually associated with slowing down. With putting tomorrow on hold. With welcoming sleep.

Why It Matters to Me

People sometimes ask why I'm so confident in this product.

The answer isn't because I think it's perfect. It's because I know how much thought went into it.

I know every adjustment we made. Every conversation. Every tester who gave honest feedback. Every decision to remove something rather than add more.

That process reminds me a lot of healthcare.

Listen carefully. Keep learning. Don't become defensive when someone offers criticism. Refine. Improve. Repeat.

That's how good products are made. It's also how good healthcare professionals grow.

One Last Thought

I often tell people that the most important part of my job isn't putting someone to sleep. It's earning their trust before they close their eyes.

In many ways, I think creating Silent Night came from that same place.

It's a quiet promise. A promise that someone cared enough to think through the details. A promise that simple evening routines still matter. A promise that rest is worth protecting.

Because after spending decades caring for people, I've learned something I wish more of us believed.

Tomorrow begins tonight.

And sometimes the smallest rituals become the ones we treasure most.

For the Quiet Hours,
Greg Wiggins, CRNA
Co-Founder, Bloomfield Schoolhouse Lavender