Hello,
Beautiful soul.
Allow yourself to settle into a comfortable position.
Knowing that for the next little while there is nowhere else you need to be.
And nothing else you need to do.
This is your time.
A sacred pause gifted to your own heart.
And if you have celestial pineapple courts nearby,
Just allow it to rest in your hand or over your heart.
If the beautiful aroma of Spikenard is filling your space,
Breathe it in softly.
Allowing its ancient fragrance to become part of the journey before it has even begun.
Close your eyes.
Take one slow,
Generous breath in.
And as you breathe out,
Imagine the days slipping from your shoulders like a cloak you no longer need to wear.
And again breathing in peace.
And breathing out everything that has felt heavy.
And then one more deep breath in.
And out.
And as the fragrance of spikenard fills your lungs,
Imagine roots of warm golden light slowly extending from your body.
Traveling deep into the earth beneath you.
They move effortlessly through the soil,
Stone and crystal.
Anchoring you with quiet strength.
You are completely supported,
Completely safe.
Completely.
Now,
Above you,
A soft golden star begins to shine.
It grows brighter with every breath until it becomes a radiant sphere of warm celestial light.
A single beam of that light slowly descends towards you,
Touching the crown of your head.
With the gentleness of a feather.
And the moment it does,
You feel yourself becoming lighter.
Not disconnected,
Simply freer.
And your body remains peacefully resting where it is,
While your spirit begins to rise within this beautiful column of golden light.
Higher.
Hi.
And higher.
Until the roof gently fades behind you.
And when the light softly settles once more,
You find yourself standing upon a winding mountain path.
The air is wonderfully crisp.
The sky is the deepest sapphire blue you have ever seen.
And snow-covered peaks stretch into the distance like sleeping giants,
Their summits kissed by the soft golden light.
The breeze carries only three things.
Fresh mountain air.
The distant sound of prayer bells,
And the rich,
Earthy fragrance of spikenard growing wild amongst the rocks.
And you smile.
Something inside you already knows this place.
Although you've never walked this path before,
It somehow feels familiar.
As though your soul has visited here many times.
You begin walking slowly.
Every step feels effortless.
The mountain path is lined with tiny alpine flowers growing between ancient stones.
And their colors shimmer almost magically.
Soft blues,
Silvers,
Creams and delicate golds.
And occasionally you notice clusters of celestial pineapple quartz emerging naturally from the mountainside.
And instead of sparkling sharply,
They glow gently from within,
Like tiny lanterns lighting your way.
And you reach out.
Lightly touch one.
And the crystal feels warm.
Immediately a wave of peace washes through your entire body.
It's not excitement,
It is something far deeper.
It is remembrance.
The path continues upwards until at last you arrive before magnificent carved wooden gates,
Standing open beneath colourful prayer flags,
Dancing gracefully in the mountain breeze.
Beyond the gate stands an ancient monastery,
Unlike anything you have ever imagined.
Its walls are built from creamy white stone that seems almost luminous.
Golden roofs catch the morning sun.
Crystal windows sparkle like stars.
Every pathway is lined with glowing celestial pineapple cords and spikenard grows everywhere.
Between the stones,
Along the pathways,
Inside beautiful terracotta pots.
Its rich fragrance fills every corner of the monastery with a deep sense of stillness.
Step through the great gates.
No one rushes here.
Even the birds seem to sing more slowly.
And you hear laughter drifting from hidden gardens.
A small fountain trickles softly somewhere nearby.
Prayer well wheels turn gently in the breeze,
Each one carrying silent blessings into the world.
And as you wander through the courtyard,
An elderly monk approaches.
His robes are simple,
His eyes sparkle with kindness,
And around his neck hangs a beautiful piece of celestial pineapple corns that catches the sunlight with every movement.
He smiles warmly and says,
I have been expecting you.
And you find yourself smiling too.
Not because the words surprise you,
Because somehow they feel true.
And he bows gently.
Come,
He says.
There is something I wish to show you.
And together you walk through long stone corridors lit by hundreds of tiny crystal lanterns.
Each lantern contains no flame.
Instead,
Every celestial pineapple quartz glows with its own inner light.
And the monk notices your curiosity.
We do not like these lanterns.
They remember their light.
And you stop walking for a moment.
Those words settle deeply within you.
We do not like these Nendons.
Remember they're light.
And the monk smiles knowingly,
Says,
So do you.
He leads you into an enormous circular library unlike any you have ever seen.
And instead of books,
Thousands of glowing crystals rest upon carved wooden shelves,
Each one contains a memory.
A lesson.
The prayer.
A dream.
The monk gently places a celestial pineapple quartz into your hands.
This crystal does not teach you anything new,
He says.
It simply helps you to remember what your soul has always known.
The crystal begins glowing softly,
And around you the library slowly disappears.
And instead you find yourself surrounded by moments from your own life.
Times you showed courage,
Kindness,
Patience,
Compassion.
Moments you thought you were small.
Yet they shine like stars.
Tears gently gather in your eyes.
You had forgotten these parts of yourself.
And the monk speaks quietly.
We will remember our mistakes far more easily than our goodness.
Today.
You remember your light.
The vision slowly fades and once again you stand inside the beautiful monastery.
Monk leads you into a peaceful courtyard where a magnificent ancient cedar tree grows.
Its roots disappear deep into the mountain,
Its branches reach towards heaven.
And around its base an entire garden of spikenards.
The fragrance is extraordinary.
I see.
Ancient.
Almost impossible to describe.
And the monk invites you to sit beneath the great tree.
And as you do,
He pours warm water into a beautiful stone bowl.
He adds only one single drop of Spikenard essential oil.
And immediately.
Air changes.
The fragrance surrounds you like an invisible embrace.
He says nothing.
There is no need.
Instead,
He simply places his hand over his own heart.
And you do the same.
With every breath,
The fragrance seems to travel deeper,
Not just into your lungs,
But into your memories,
Your worries,
Your hopes,
The places inside yourself you really visit.
And one by one,
Old fears begin falling away like autumn leaves.
Pressure to be perfect.
The need to have all the answers.
The fear of disappointing others.
The constant feeling that you should somehow be further along your path.
Each one drifts gently to the earth.
The Spikenard accepts them without judgement.
The mountain accepts them.
The Earth accepts them.
You no longer need to carry them.
The monk finally speaks.
The mountain is never hurried.
The stars have never compared themselves.
The cedar has never doubted its worth.
So why should you?
A beautiful silence follows,
Not empty.
And you suddenly understand that peace isn't something we create.
It is something we uncover beneath all the noise.
You The monk stands and gestures for you to follow him once more.
And together you climb a narrow staircase carved directly into the mountain until you reach the highest terrace of the monastery.
So the view takes your breath away.
Clouds drift gently below you.
The mountains stretch endlessly towards the horizon.
And above the sky seems impossibly close.
The monk lifts a magnificent lantern made entirely from celestial pineapple quartz and it glows with a soft golden light.
And he says this lantern has never gone out.
It has shone here for thousands of years.
He places it into your hands.
And the moment you touch it,
The light begins flowing into your chest.
Into your heart,
Into every cell of your being.
And soon there is no lantern.
Only light.
And you realize something so extraordinarily beautiful.
The lantern was never separate from you.
It was simply reminding you of the light you already carry.
And the monk smiles one final time.
Whenever life becomes noisy.
Close your eyes.
Breathe.
The monastery will find you.
You bow with gratitude.
The prayer flags dance gently in the breeze.
The fragrance of spikenard fills the mountain air once more.
The crystal pathways glow beneath your feet.
And as you begin walking back towards the gates,
Every step feels lighter.
Not because life has changed,
Because you have.
And you pause one last time.
And look back.
The monasteries shine softly beneath the morning sun.
Than little.
Buy a little.
It dissolves into golden light.
That light surrounds you once again.
Gently carrying you home.
Slowly become aware of your breathing.
Notice the gentle rise and fall of your chest.
Feel the support beneath your feet.
Wiggle your fingers,
Toes,
Stretch your body.
Perhaps take a slightly deeper breath.
And know that the sacred lantern now burns within your own hearts.
And whenever you hold celestial pineapple courts,
Whenever the ancient fragrance of spikenard reaches your senses,
Whenever you simply choose stillness over rushing,
The gates of the mountain monastery will open once again.
Its wisdom,
Its peace,
Its ancient light will always be waiting.
And as you slowly open your eyes,
Carry this blessing with you.
May your roots grow deep into the wisdom of the earth.
May your spirit rise joyfully towards the light of the heavens.
And may you always remember.
That the brightest lantern you will ever follow has been shining within you all along.
Namaste.
