Hello friend,
This is Padma.
And as you may know,
I am a fan of bedtime stories,
So I wanted to share one with you.
It's an ancient Celtic tale called the Forest of Eternal Twilight.
So take a moment and get settled in.
Cozy up in your bed and just relax.
Breathe deeply,
Breathe deeply.
And with each breath,
Imagine you're breathing in the scent of an ancient forest,
Moss and earth and all manner of growing things.
Long,
Long ago,
In the time before time was counted,
There existed a sacred grove known only to the Druids,
A place where the trees themselves were older than memory,
Where time flowed like honey,
Slow and sweet and golden.
And tonight,
My friend,
You have been granted passage to this holy place.
You stand now at the forest's edge.
The light here is neither day nor night,
But the gentle twilight that the Celtic people called between times,
The threshold between worlds.
Before you,
A path of soft moss winds between the trees.
The moss glows faintly with its own light.
It is green and luminous,
Inviting you forward.
You step gently onto the path and feel the cushioning softness beneath your feet.
Each step is like walking on clouds.
The trees that rise on either side of you are ancient oaks.
Their trunks are wider than houses,
Their branches reaching up and up until they weave together overhead,
Creating a living cathedral.
And through the canopy,
You can see the first evening stars appearing,
Winking like fireflies in the leaves.
As you walk deeper and deeper into the forest,
You notice how quiet it is.
Not the silence of emptiness,
But the silence of a deep,
Deep peace.
You can hear your own heartbeat,
Steady and strong,
And it seems to echo the heartbeat of the forest itself.
It is as if you and this ancient place share the same rhythm.
Small lights begin to appear along the path.
Will-o'-wisps,
The old ones called them,
Gentle spirits of the forest who guide travelers.
They dance ahead of you.
Their soft blue-green glow is reassuring and welcoming.
Your body feels lighter and lighter with each step,
Your shoulders dropping,
Your jaw relaxing,
Your eyelids are growing heavy,
Very heavy.
This is a place where no one carries burdens,
Where all weights are set aside.
You come now to a clearing.
In the center grows the oldest tree you have ever seen,
A mighty oak whose trunk is as wide as a tower,
Its bark as silver in the twilight,
Etched with spirals and ancient symbols.
And at the base of this tree,
You find a hollow.
And within the hollow,
A bed crafted of the softest materials nature can provide.
Swans down and sheep's wool,
Moss and flower petals,
All arranged as if they were expecting you.
You settle into this nest and the tree seems to curve around you protectively.
You can feel the life force of the oak.
Centuries and centuries of wisdom flowing through its roots deep in the earth,
Rising through its trunk,
Reaching up to touch the stars.
And now,
An energy flows into you,
Grounding you,
Connecting you to something vast and eternal.
You are part of the forest now,
Part of the earth,
Part of the endless cycle of growth and rest and renewal.
Above you,
Through the branches,
The full moon rises,
Silver and serene.
The kelts knew the moon as the keeper of dreams,
The weaver of night's magic.
Her light filters down through the leaves,
Dappling your resting place with patterns of silver and shadow.
And you hear very faintly the sound of a harp,
Or perhaps it's just the wind.
Moving through the branches,
The melody is ancient,
Wordless,
A lullaby older than language,
Speaking directly to your soul,
Bypassing all thought.
Your breathing deepens,
Matching the slow,
Slow breath of the forest.
In and out,
In and out,
The tree breathes with you,
The earth breathes with you,
All of nature synchronized in one great,
Peaceful rhythm.
Small woodland creatures move softly in the darkness around you.
A deer passes,
Silent as a shadow.
An owl calls once a benediction.
But you feel no fear,
You are protected here,
You are home,
You are home,
My friend.
The roots of the great oak extend deep beneath you,
Down,
Down,
Down into the living earth.
And you imagine your own consciousness following those roots,
Sinking deeper,
Growing more quiet,
More still.
Time loses all meaning in this eternal twilight.
You might sleep for a minute or a thousand years,
It matters not.
When you wake,
You will wake renewed.
But for now,
There is only this,
This perfect peace,
This sacred rest.
The tree stands watch over you,
As it has stood watch for countless generations.
You are held in the arms of something ancient and benevolent,
Something that has cradled countless souls before you.
Let yourself sink now,
Deeper into the softness,
Deeper into the peace.
The forest of eternal twilight holds you,
And here you may rest,
My friend,
Truly rest.
Let go,
Let go.
Let the forest carry you into the dreaming dark,
Into peace,
Into peace,
Where you can rest deeply,
Deeply,
Deeply.
Sweet dreams,
Sweet dreams,
My friend.
