Welcome,
Dear one.
Find a comfortable position.
Either seated or lying down.
And allow your body to settle.
Maybe your mind is still busy.
Replaying conversations.
Remembering things that you need to do thinking about tomorrow.
Or simply moving from one thought to another.
We don't need to silence any of it.
Tonight we're simply going to give those thoughts somewhere else to rest.
Now take a slow breath in through your nose.
And breathe gently out through your mouth.
Again breathing in And as you exhale softly close your eyes.
Focusing on your breath Breathing in calm.
And exhaling all that no longer serves you.
Now imagine you are walking along a quiet street after dark.
It is an old British street.
Narrow and slightly crooked.
Lined with little stone buildings that seem to lean gently towards one another.
Rain has recently fallen.
And the pavement shines beneath amber street lamps.
And somewhere nearby you can hear water trickling into a drain.
The shops are closed.
Curtains are drawn.
Doors locked.
And everything has become wonderfully still.
You walk slowly,
Step by step.
After step.
After steps.
Until you notice something ahead.
A warm golden light.
It comes from a tiny shop squeezed between two old buildings.
You're almost certain it wasn't there a moment ago.
Above the door hangs a faded wooden sign.
It reads,
The Midnight Bookshop.
And through the window,
You can see books piled everywhere.
Old leather-bound books.
Little lamps.
A wooden death.
And a deep armchair beside a glowing fire.
You reach for the brass door handle.
And the door softly opens.
A tiny bell sounds above you.
And you step inside.
Immediately,
The outside world feels very far away.
There is only one.
The crackle of the fire.
The faint ticking of an old clock.
And thousands upon thousands of books.
Shelves stretch from floor to ceiling.
Ladders lean against overflowing bookcases.
Narrow staircases disappear into shadow.
But something about these books.
Is unusual.
None of them have ordinary titles.
You move closer to the shelves.
And written across the spines are little fragments.
One book reads,
What if?
Another,
Don't forget.
Another.
Tomorrow I need to.
I should have said.
What happens there.
I still haven't.
And suddenly you understand.
These books do not hold stories.
They hold thoughts.
Unfinished thoughts.
Things people were afraid they might forget.
Questions without answers.
Plans that didn't need making.
And conversations replayed one too many times.
Thoughts that had simply become too heavy to keep carrying.
Nothing here has been forgotten.
It has simply been put somewhere safe.
Behind an old wooden desk stands the bookseller.
There is something wonderfully calm about their presence.
They don't ask your name.
They don't ask why you've come.
They simply seem to know because the Midnight Bookshop.
Only appears when someone's mind has become too full.
The bookseller places an empty book on the desk before you.
Its cover is plain.
Its pages completely blank.
Now bring to mind one thought that has been following you today.
You don't need to search for it,
Just allow it to come.
Now simply imagine placing it onto the first page.
And as you do,
Words begin to appear.
Your thought has been written down.
Safely.
The page turns.
And there's another blank page.
Maybe there is something you need to do tomorrow.
You may place that here.
And as the page turns,
Maybe there's something you're afraid you'll forget.
Let the book remember it for you.
The page turns.
And there is a question that you cannot answer tonight.
Place that tier too.
You don't have to find every thought.
Just simply the ones ready to be put down.
And with each page,
Your mind begins to become.
Just a little bit quieter.
A little lighter.
There is nothing to fight for.
Nothing to push away.
You're simply saying,
Not right now.
You are safe here.
And you can return whenever you need to.
When you are ready.
Gently close the book The bookseller takes the book from you.
And carries it towards the shelves.
Past thousands of other unfinished thoughts.
Until they find exactly the right place for your book.
Your book slides onto the shelf,
Safe.
Nothing inside can be lost.
And if one day you truly need something you've left here.
Come back.
For this bookshop will remember you.
But just for tonight.
You don't need to carry it.
Now sink into that deep armchair beside the fire.
Allow your head to rest.
Your shoulders to soften.
And your hands to become heavy.
Outside the rain begins to fall.
And you can hear it gently tapping against the window.
The clock ticks quietly.
The fire crackles.
And all around you,
Thousands and thousands of thoughts are resting peacefully on those shelves None of them demand answers.
And none of them need attention.
Not tonight.
Now take a slow breath in.
And as you breathe out notice the space inside your mind just quieter and maybe you realise something.
You never needed to finish everything before you were allowed to rest.
You don't need every answer tonight.
You don't need to remember everything at once.
Some things can wait.
Some things can remain unfinished.
Some things simply belong to tomorrow.
And for tonight,
You are allowed to keep that book closed.
The lamps around the shop begin to dim.
One by one.
Until only the soft glow of the fire remains.
If you are listening before sleep.
You can stay here for as long as you like.
Warm beside the fire.
Rain falling softly beyond the windows.
While the midnight bookshop keeps watch over everything you've put away.
There is nothing more you need to sow.
Let the shelves hold what you cannot.
And allow the night to hold you.
And if you are returning to your day,
Begin to notice your breathing.
The surface beneath you.
Gently move your fingers Wiggle those toes.
Now take one deeper breath in And as you exhale,
Imagine stepping back into that quiet street.
With the little bell sounding behind you.
And when you turn,
The golden bookshop is already beginning to disappear.
You know you will find it again.
Whenever your mind becomes too full.
Remember,
Somewhere on a quiet street after dark.
A little golden light will appear.
And the Midnight Bookshop will be open just for you.
Plus B.
