Settle in for a cozy bedtime story where a rainy night,
A mysterious invitation,
And a castle filled with wonders await you.
You are listening to The Magical Bazaar.
A rainy adventure.
For those who still believe.
An invitation can arrive out of nowhere and transform a mundane bedtime routine into something enchanting.
Journey through the rain-soaked cobblestones.
Of a medieval village.
To a castle on a hill.
Where a secret bazaar awaits.
Filled with wonders,
Unlike anything the waking world could offer.
Let this story unfold like a dream.
Carrying you back to the wonder of your inner child.
And all the possibilities.
Your imagination can bring.
It's time to dream away.
Welcome to Michelle's Sanctuary.
I'm Michelle,
A fellow imaginative dreamer.
Here to remind you that it's possible to use your creative mind.
To envision magical escapes rather than worries.
Celebrate making it through the end of another day as you listen and change any detail you like.
Knowing this is your journey tonight.
And as you settle,
Feel the support beneath you.
Support of my voice.
The support of your intention.
Find a little softness.
To invite in a little dreaminess.
Release any trapped energy.
Are swirling thoughts that get in the way.
Letting out a sigh.
Take your time.
Making a sound.
Casting away all concerns.
You envision them drifting on your breath into an infinite night sky.
Inhale deeply.
The air is a healing tonic.
And it carries the very first hint of rain.
Particular mineral sweetness that arrives just before the clouds open.
Hold it for a moment if you like.
And then maybe enjoy a sleepy yawn.
And let out a sigh.
Once more,
Inhale Maybe yawn.
Sigh.
An easy ritual that lets your body know there are beautiful things in store.
Return to your normal breath as I count us down.
Each count bringing you closer to a mystical world somewhere in time.
One.
Your forehead softens.
Your eyelids grow heavy.
As the day begins to fall away.
Rain gathers in the darkness.
The first drops tapping softly against the night.
2.
Your neck and shoulders loosen as your arms become warm and heavy.
To inhale the fragrance of rain-soaked streets,
Damp malls,
And somewhere in the distance,
The faint sweetness of something baking behind a window.
3 chest and back muscles soften,
Your heart opens,
Your spine settles deeper.
Tranquil rain,
The soft whisper of wind,
And the trickle of water over stone.
Inspire a sense of fluidity and relief.
Your hips,
Legs and feet become heavy.
Sinking into the infinite comfort of this journey.
Bye.
From the ground of your head.
To the soles of your feet.
The night welcomes you with its soporific rain and magical promises.
There's nowhere else to be,
Nothing else to do.
As the story begins to unfold.
Envision yourself sitting somewhere familiar and quiet in a place that feels quite like home.
You may not be able to say exactly where.
It could be a special place you read about in a storybook.
Once encountered in a dream.
There's a remarkable calm here.
It permeates every part of your being.
As the rain falls softly.
Pattering on the window behind you.
You notice an ornate invitation resting nearby.
It wasn't there a moment ago.
As though it magically appeared out of thin air.
Landed as gracefully as a white feather beside you.
Your name is written in gold,
Sparkling letters.
Across the glistening envelope.
Damp from the rain.
You open it slowly.
To reveal the lush parchment card.
Embossed with intricate details.
And engraved words.
Seem almost to jump from the page.
They appear to be written in another era.
When handwriting was a glimpse into someone's soul.
Every loop and scroll is elegant and intentional.
Erase the card.
Feeling the weight and texture beneath your fingertips.
And as you turn it toward the light.
The engraved letters seem to shimmer and shift.
There is no address.
No explanation of how it arrived.
Only the unmistakable feeling.
At this invitation.
Created especially for you.
They impart a bone-deep sense that's somewhere beyond the ordinary world.
Something extraordinary is waiting.
The words unexpectedly lift themselves from the page.
A floating gold sentence of dancing letters that move before your eyes.
You are invited to a secret magical bazaar.
Hidden within a castle on a hill.
Place where magical dreamers gather.
The words suddenly puffed.
To tiny golden flecks.
To create a floating bridge that rises from the floor.
It beckons you to come along.
And so you stand.
Slowly and curiously.
Step on this shimmering cloud of gold.
An ornate medieval door.
Appears before you.
Portal to another world.
You place your palm on the bejeweled gold knocker.
Before you make a sound.
Door opens.
And you step into another realm.
You find yourself.
Standing at the edge of a medieval village.
Dressed in a heavy hooded cloak.
Beaded with rain.
Your buttery boots.
Rise just above your knees.
Keeping your feet toasty and dry.
It's a world of swirling grays,
Deep purples and blues.
Awash in a constant cascade of silver rain.
Behind you,
Cottages fill the village.
Their limestone facades glistening with a reflective mustard hue.
As plumes of plum black smoke rise from chimneys like dancing Oompa Loompas.
Tall taper candles Some in small brass holders,
Others in ornate candelabras.
Illuminate the mullioned windows.
Offering a warm refuge.
For when your enchanting night at the bazaar comes to a close.
Now.
You are drawn to the gates of the castle.
Hearing out from under the edge of your hood.
As the rain lands on it.
In a staccato rhythm.
It's hard to see the castle towers beyond the sprawling gates.
And emerald green hedges.
But as you approach.
The gates seem to recognize you.
And creak open inward.
Puddles reflect the regal beauty.
Of an English garden.
You find waiting beyond the hedges.
Boxwood topiaries.
Stand in perfect shapes along the path.
Their dark green leaves jeweled with rain.
While rose bushes and climbing vines spill over old stone borders,
Their pale pink and deep crimson petals softened by the mist.
Water gathers on the leaves.
Falls and shining drops.
Whenever the breeze moves through them.
Somewhere beyond the garden.
Hidden among the hedges and ancient trees.
You begin to hear something unexpected.
Music.
Festive and celebratory.
With a melody that seems almost too merry.
For such a bleak and stormy night.
Then you hear laughter.
And the faint clinking of glasses.
And voices mingling together.
Somewhere inside the castle.
You follow the melodious sound around the garden.
A stone fountain until you come to a set of enormous double doors beneath an arched stone entrance.
Warm golden light spills through the narrow cracks around them.
And as you draw closer Another kind of magic reaches you.
The fragrant steam of mulled drinks.
Rich with warmth and spice.
Mingles with the scent of beeswax candles and joins the smell of wet stone and rain.
The air is sharp and damp.
And your gold fingertips reach for the doors.
Cool rain landing on them.
Before you can grasp the knocker.
They open just enough.
For a wave of warm golden light.
And music to spill out into the rainy night.
You step inside the castle.
Until the door thuds behind you.
The magical bazaar is alive and in full swing.
Stretches through an enormous vaulted hole.
Vibrant with color and movement with orange,
Purple,
Ruby,
And emerald stained glass lamps.
Dangling overhead.
Like glowing jewels.
Their warm light lickering across velvet stalls and embroidered fabrics.
Hundreds of candles burn from iron stands.
In little glass lanterns.
Tucked into every stone corner,
Music winds through the hall.
Merry and enchanting from a string quartet.
Accompanied by the laughter of fellow dreamers.
Wandering between the stalls.
Their voices mingling.
The clinking of chalices.
And the sweet laughter of new friends.
No one arrives here from the same era,
But you'd never know.
Everyone finds a natural camaraderie.
And has simply found a home here tonight.
Or a moment.
You simply stand still.
Taking it all in.
When a matronly keeper of the castle,
Carlita,
Stands next to you.
Dressed in a floor-length velvet and satin corseted gown,
She extends a long manicured hand to help remove your clothes.
She welcomes you as you stand in pure awe of all the activities insists you won't be needing this garment when you leave.
It sounds absurd right now as the rain becomes torrential.
And yet you trust her.
Taking her word for truth before she disappears back into the gathering.
Moments ago You are standing beneath a bleak,
Stormy sky.
Surrounded by rain and grey stones.
And now you have stepped into a celebration.
Hidden inside a timeless castle,
Every stall holds some otherworldly wonder.
And every tucked corner.
Offers another glimpse.
Of something you have never seen before.
The harder the rain falls on the stained glass windows.
The more you revel in the warmth within the bazaar.
Bizarre seems to stretch farther than the castle itself could possibly contain.
Unfolding in every direction.
Beneath a vaulted ceiling become its own enchanted night sky,
Deep and midnight blue,
With tiny points of light shimmering overhead.
The air is warm and fragrant with cinnamon,
Cloves,
Orange peel,
And ginger breath.
You wander deeper into the bazaar,
Allowing yourself to be drawn wherever your curiosity takes you.
Passing stalls draped in velvet and embroidered silk.
The tables crowded within beautiful and mysterious objects.
Shimmer beneath the candlelight.
There are corked bottles filled with colors that have no names in the waking world.
Their contents swirling.
That captured sunsets.
Deep ocean waters.
You continue on.
Noticing pathways curling between colorful stalls.
And opening unexpectedly.
Into little courtyards.
Filled with lanterns,
Fountains,
Flowers,
And music protected under glass domes where the rain continues to fall.
You notice a stall draped with an enormous patchwork quilt,
Its many squares stitched together from fabric of every texture and shade imaginable.
Velvet and linen.
Silk and cotton.
Embroidered thread.
And tiny beads.
Catch the light whenever you move.
You find yourself reaching toward it.
The voice of Agatha.
Purrs from beyond the display.
Welcomes you to the Quilt of Memories.
She invites you to touch its fabric.
And as your fingers land and a baby blue hatch.
The music and candlelight of the bazaar begin to recede.
The marketplace seems to blur and dissolve into a wash of color.
Until you find yourself.
Somewhere beneath.
Enormous open sky.
Looking upward into the most extraordinary shade of blue you have ever seen.
Aren't sure.
Whether this is a memory or a dream.
The sky stretches endlessly above you.
Clear and luminous.
The kind of blue that is endless and hopeful.
Far below.
A lake reflects the sky in deeper tones.
Surface rippling.
Little flashes of gold.
Whenever the breeze moves across it.
Blue flowers grow along the water's edge.
Tiny and delicate.
Beyond the late.
Distant mountains rise in hazy layers.
Their blue silhouettes.
Softer and paler.
Farther they disappear into the horizon.
Take in the feeling of happiness.
For finding yourself back in the stall with Agatha.
Softly smiling.
Her long raven hair glowing in the candlelight.
Do it again,
" she implores in a whisper.
Every little piece of fabric.
Contains an entire world and you reach toward another patch.
This one a rich green.
Finding yourself beneath the canopy of trees.
Relieves shimmer overhead.
And dappled sunlight moves across the woodlands path.
Birds sing somewhere beyond the branches.
A stream rushes nearby.
The scent of pine rises from the earth.
After a passing summer rain.
Another embroidered patch.
Carries you toward the sea beneath a ruby peach colored evening sky while an ivory swatch of luscious silk brings you to the quiet magic of falling snow The world silent beneath a blanket of white.
Elsewhere,
You find yourself laughing with abandon.
You're sitting beside someone dear,
Listening to the comfortable sounds of nature.
Of an ordinary evening.
Folding around you.
When you at last let your hand fall from the fabric.
See Agatha studying your face,
Noticing how much you notice.
She declares.
You will live a very rich life.
You are always open to its beauty.
You thank her.
Leave her to meander through the glowing bazaar.
Feeling like you are wandering through a kaleidoscope.
Another stall appears.
And an older man rests his wrinkled palm on smooth stones that sing when touched.
A rustic would install.
Features dozens of small shelves.
Tiny glass bottles.
Contain miniature storms.
Complete with silver flashes of lightning and little twisters.
There are shells of folded shadows.
Jars filled with captured moonlight.
Mysterious keys hanging from brass hooks.
And tiny clocks.
Measure dreams rather than time.
Then a small glass jar catches the light.
It sits on a little wooden table.
Surrounded by dozens of other jars.
But this one draws your attention immediately.
Perhaps because the tiny points of light within it seem to be moving in a way the others are not.
They spiral slowly through the glass.
Like stars suspended in deep water gathering near the bottom.
Floating upward again.
And when you lift the jar into the candlelight,
You can see each tiny point glowing with a different intensity.
The merchant explains that it is an intentional jar of stars.
Peculiar little magic.
Responds to your breath whatever quiet intention.
You happen to release at the time.
You hold the jar carefully between your hands.
As you breathe,
The stars begin to stir.
First they only tremble.
Glowing a little brighter.
Till they rise from the bottom of the jar.
Begin arranging themselves in the air.
One drifts beside another.
Than another.
The scattered lights form words inside the glass.
Always believe.
The stars scatter then gather again.
Forming a second message.
Dreams are just the beginning.
And one final time.
This world together.
Glowing softly as the words appear.
You are exactly where you need to be.
You watch as the stars slowly loosen and return to their quiet constellations.
And when you place the jar back into the merchant's hands.
Little lights continue to shimmer softly between you.
As you exchange a smile.
For moving on.
The winding corridor.
Opens into a grand domed hall.
Ceiling transformed to a vast starlit sky.
Constellations shimmering overhead.
Among hanging flowers.
Golden light.
You notice something quite unusual high above.
Guests and their ethereal garments.
Best dress from many eras.
Flying through the enormous space.
Their laughter and voices are gleeful.
As they glide beneath the makeshift stars.
And disappear through several great arched openings.
Bleed into different wings of the castle.
Along one wall.
A merchant stands beside several pairs of wings.
Resting upon velvet cushions.
Each one more unique than the last.
Catches your eye and smiles.
Lifting a pair of midnight blue wings dusted with tiny points of silver and gold and peacock green.
He says,
Holding them out to you.
Take the wings.
As you settle them across your shoulders.
Seem to awaken beneath your hands.
Fitting perfectly against you.
You step into the center of the whole.
With the smallest movement.
Catch the warm air and gently lift you from the floor,
Your eyes above the dreamers below.
The music and laughter drifting upward.
You glide beneath the glass domed sky.
Passing among replicated constellations,
Shimmer close enough to touch.
You soar through one of the great arches.
Back again.
Floating past balconies.
Or flowing with flowers.
Moonlit windows.
Ancient stone washed in amber light.
Discovering that the wings seem to know exactly how to carry you.
Then.
As you begin to drift downward.
You stop trying to hold yourself in the air.
And simply let yourself descend.
Allowing your body to become weightless.
As you float slowly toward the polished floor below.
But with the slightest wiggle.
You rise again once more.
The feathers stir.
With one sweeping movement.
The wings lift you higher than before.
Carrying you back toward the starlit ceiling.
You revel in the extraordinary freedom.
Knowing that you can drift down whenever you wish.
And rise again whenever you choose.
And soon,
A delightful sleepiness settles and you decide to land.
You carefully remove the wings.
And place them once more upon their velvet cushions.
But some of their lightness seems to remain with you as you continue wandering through the marketplace.
The music is fainter now,
The lamps have grown a bit dimmer,
And the candles have burned down to their very ends.
You aren't quite ready to leave.
But as you turn down a quieter passage between the stalls.
You notice Molly.
The last merchant.
Tucked away in a corner you hadn't noticed before.
There are no brightly colored treasures here.
No shelves crowded with bottles or crystals.
Only a little strange display.
Seems to bend the candlelight around itself.
Her blue eyes sparkle.
In a dimly lit corridor.
She reaches toward what appears to be empty air.
And lifts something invisible from its stand.
She places it carefully into your hands.
An invisible globe She tells you that it carries one particular enchantment while you wear it.
The rain cannot touch you.
You slip it over your shoulders expecting to feel something.
There is only the faintest sensation of warmth.
Before it settles into place completely unseen.
You turn toward a nearby mirror.
See your reflection.
Exactly as it was before.
No cloak visible at all.
Somehow you know that the magic is there.
And one by one.
The stalls are closed and the other dreamers venture out into the night.
You decide that it's time for you to move on as well.
You make your way through the tapestry doorway.
Back along the castle's ancient stone walls.
Where candle flames tremble and flicker in their iron sconces and throw golden light across the worn floors.
At the great entrance,
The doors open before you and you step out once more into the silver rain.
Yet the rain no longer touches you.
Gathers on the invisible globe.
Slips away like water over glass.
Leaving you perfectly dry.
As you make your way down the hill.
Somehow.
You simply know the way.
Each turn comes naturally.
You reach the edge of the village.
And see a little rustic stone cottage.
Periwinkle shutters.
Beneath an old pear tree.
Chimney exhaling.
A thin ribbon of lavender smoke.
You recognize it immediately.
Sensing it's been waiting for you all along.
You open the creaking door.
Warmth gathers around you.
Carrying the comforting scent of wood smoke and beeswax.
A small fire glows in the heart.
Shifting from clover honey flames.
Deep magenta embers.
As the logs settle.
Beside it you find a comfortable chair.
A quilt folded neatly across the back.
Cottage has been prepared to receive you.
The candle waits beside the bed.
Already there.
And upon the little wooden table.
A cup of warm milk.
Sweetened with honey.
Surface sending up delicate curls of steam.
Beside it is a tiny dish of dried lavender.
Releasing its sleepy spell in the air.
Pair of linen pajamas.
Embroidered with your monogram.
In your favorite color.
Rest over the bed.
You hang up the invisible cloak.
And change into the pajamas.
Slipping your feet into a pair of warm fluffy slippers.
And hang your clothes next to the cloak in the armoire.
Before sliding into the luxurious bed.
You draw the curtains closed against the rain.
Stove of fire.
Take a final sip of honeyed milk.
And return to the bed.
Beneath the eaves.
For rain cascades.
In the dark blue night.
The linen sheets are cool beneath your fingertips.
When you slip beneath them.
The mattress cradles your body.
In the Storybook Cottage.
Like no other.
You pull the quilt to your chin.
Listen to the rain.
Whispering softly against the room.
While the fire gives one last gentle crackle.
Before settling into its glowing embers.
Details of the bazaar.
Dance through your mind.
As you drift closer to the bridge to sleep.
Quilt of memories.
Jar of starlit intentions.
And the wings soaring within the castle's beautiful hall.
The magic of the bazaar lingers.
You settle.
Becoming so ready to dream.
The lullaby of the rain carries you across the bridge to slumber.
Cottage keeps you now.
And you keep the cottage in your heart.
Castle and its secrets will stay with you.
The magical bazaar.
Or other dreamers.
Do you fall asleep?
Hoping one night to return again.
Finding wonder.
Finding enchantment.
Finding softness.
Finding sleep It's time to dream away.
