Hello there,
Thanks for joining me Clara and allowing me to help you relax and fall asleep.
Before the sleep story begins,
Find a comfortable place to relax and gently close your eyes.
In the heart of an antique land stands a medieval castle on a small island.
In the middle of a lake.
Legend has it that if you ring the bell at the top of the castle's tower once and imagine a wish as you do so,
Your wish will come true.
Long ago people recorded their wishes in the book of wishes which is kept in the tower.
The book of wishes is ancient so nobody writes on the old parchment paper anymore.
The spine barely holds the pages together and the stitches are unraveling between the pages.
Yet somehow it has survived for centuries.
If you looked inside the book of wishes you'd notice it's all handwritten in different scripts and inks.
The blue ink was created from crushed precious lapis lazuli carried by a camel caravan all the way from the mountains of Afghanistan.
The black ink was made from a mixture of soot from lamps and water.
And the red ink was created from ground cinnabar mined in the mountains of Spain.
And if you could read and understand the words you'd see the wishes of the people back then were similar to the wishes people might have today.
I wish for health.
I wish for peace.
I wish my pain would go away.
Please make time slow down.
Before the visualization begins take a few moments to imagine what you would wish for and set your intention.
As you wait on the dock the wind picks up.
A moment of trepidation.
Is this the right time to do this?
You ask yourself.
Then a figure appears in the distance.
Rowing slowly towards you.
Too late now.
The rowing boat reaches the dock and you see the man's face.
The weather and time have etched his face into easy-going wrinkles.
And his kind brown eyes are filled with a welcoming expression.
He wears all black with a classic beret jauntily perched the side of his head and a red patterned cravat tucked in the collar of his shirt.
You clumsily say hello in his language as he helps you into the boat.
No words are needed.
You immediately feel comfortable in his company.
The boat has been worn by the elements and weather beaten by the lake.
Here and there the varnish on the teak is peeling in places.
As it moves slowly out into the open water the wind picks up with the current and the wildness of the water gently rocks you.
Although the weather is less than ideal you have confidence in the man who's ferried people across the lake to the island for years.
The sun breaks through the clouds.
It shines on the small island in the middle of the lake.
The tower rises above the treetops casting a broad shadow across the water.
Before long the boat safely reaches the island.
Then the man helps you step out of the boat onto the steps leading up to the castle.
You thank him and wave goodbye.
As he starts to row back a flock of swans fly overhead and land beside the boat.
He stops for a few moments to look at them before resuming his journey.
The steps leading to the castle are pale marble starkly contrasting with the island's wilderness.
As you walk up them there's a lull in the breeze and you hear the ambient sound of the insects and birds.
The sun shines so brightly now you have to shade your eyes with your hand.
The gates to the castle are wide open and a young woman is busy washing the stone slab floors.
There's a slight citrus scent mixed in with the old stone atmosphere of the hallway.
The woman is absorbed with her task but after a few moments she senses your presence.
Realizing you are here she looks up,
Sees you,
Smiles and points in the direction of the spiral staircase to the tower.
There are 99 stairs to the top.
So you take your time.
A narrow window overlooks the lake at the halfway point.
From here you can see the mountains in the distance.
And the glaciers that run off into the lake creating the bright shade of blue.
Far below you see the swans in the lake like brilliant white punctuation marks.
Finally you reach the top of the bell tower.
A small round room with a steeply pitched roof supported by rustic wooden beams and a wooden floor.
A long fiber rope is attached to the bell suspended overhead.
You want to ring the bell but you're drawn to the book on the table.
The book is well worn.
You carefully open the cover and lean in close to examine the parchment pages that have survived centuries.
You try and imagine all the different people who've written their wishes which are still here all these years later.
If only you could read them.
You take a moment to reflect on your wish.
Turn to the bell and whisper it to yourself as you ring it once.
Imagine writing your intention in your heart.
Remember it.
Treasure it.
And may your dream come true one day.
