WEBVTT 1 00:00:07.200 --> 00:00:10.759 The paper lanterns. There is a village in a valley 2 00:00:11.039 --> 00:00:14.199 where the mountains rise on all sides like the walls 3 00:00:14.240 --> 00:00:18.039 of a great, gentle bowl. The village is small, just 4 00:00:18.079 --> 00:00:21.160 a handful of houses clustered around a square, and in 5 00:00:21.199 --> 00:00:23.879 the center of the square there is a well. The 6 00:00:23.920 --> 00:00:27.160 well is old, older than any of the houses, older 7 00:00:27.239 --> 00:00:30.600 than the cobblestones that pave the square, older perhaps than 8 00:00:30.640 --> 00:00:34.320 the mountains themselves. Its stones are worn smooth by the 9 00:00:34.399 --> 00:00:37.359 ropes of a thousand buckets, and its water is cold 10 00:00:37.399 --> 00:00:40.719 and clear and tastes of the deep earth. But this 11 00:00:40.920 --> 00:00:43.759 village has a tradition that sets it apart from every 12 00:00:43.799 --> 00:00:46.799 other village in the world. On the first night of 13 00:00:46.840 --> 00:00:50.159 every month, regardless of the season, regardless of the weather, 14 00:00:50.560 --> 00:00:53.759 the people of the village make paper lanterns. They do 15 00:00:53.880 --> 00:00:56.359 this in their kitchens and their sitting rooms, at their 16 00:00:56.359 --> 00:00:59.200 wooden tables, by the light of oil lamps and candles. 17 00:00:59.679 --> 00:01:03.320 They use thin paper, rice paper, mostly the kind that 18 00:01:03.399 --> 00:01:05.640 is so fine you can see your fingers through it, 19 00:01:05.879 --> 00:01:07.959 and they fold it and paste it and shape it 20 00:01:08.000 --> 00:01:11.959 into small, round lanterns, each one no bigger than a grapefruit. 21 00:01:12.640 --> 00:01:16.480 The lanterns are simple, Some are white, some are pale yellow, 22 00:01:16.920 --> 00:01:20.640 a few are soft pink or the faintest shade of blue. 23 00:01:20.680 --> 00:01:23.640 Each one has a small candle inside a stub of 24 00:01:23.680 --> 00:01:26.680 bees wax that smells of honey when it burns, and 25 00:01:26.760 --> 00:01:29.359 each one has a wish written on it in ink 26 00:01:29.680 --> 00:01:32.040 on the inside of the paper, so that when the 27 00:01:32.040 --> 00:01:36.200 candle is lit, the words glow from within, visible to 28 00:01:36.280 --> 00:01:39.519 anyone who looks closely enough to read them. The wishes 29 00:01:39.560 --> 00:01:43.280 are not grand. No one in this village wishes for riches, 30 00:01:43.480 --> 00:01:46.640 or fame or power. They wish for things like a 31 00:01:46.640 --> 00:01:50.599 good harvest, a safe journey, a letter from a friend. 32 00:01:51.079 --> 00:01:54.079 They wish for the health of a parent, the happiness 33 00:01:54.120 --> 00:01:56.719 of a child, the return of a loved one who 34 00:01:56.719 --> 00:01:59.359 has been gone too long. They wish for rain and 35 00:01:59.439 --> 00:02:03.079 dry seas, and sunshine and wet ones. They wish for 36 00:02:03.159 --> 00:02:07.159 the small, essential things that make a life bearable and beautiful. 37 00:02:07.560 --> 00:02:11.199 On this particular night, the air is still and warm. 38 00:02:11.719 --> 00:02:15.439 Summer has settled over the valley like a thick, soft blanket, 39 00:02:15.759 --> 00:02:18.840 and the days have been long and golden. But now, 40 00:02:19.199 --> 00:02:23.240 as evening falls, a coolness creeps in from the mountains, 41 00:02:23.560 --> 00:02:26.039 and the people of the village gather in the square 42 00:02:26.080 --> 00:02:30.039 with their lanterns. There are perhaps forty of them, men 43 00:02:30.159 --> 00:02:34.319 and women and children, old and young. They stand in 44 00:02:34.360 --> 00:02:37.560 a loose circle around the well, each one holding a 45 00:02:37.639 --> 00:02:41.479 lantern by a thin string tied to a small wooden handle. 46 00:02:41.919 --> 00:02:45.159 The lanterns sway gently in the breeze that comes down 47 00:02:45.199 --> 00:02:49.159 from the peaks, and the candles inside them flicker, casting 48 00:02:49.280 --> 00:02:53.800 moving patterns of light on the cobblestones. A woman steps forward. 49 00:02:54.199 --> 00:02:57.560 She is old, the oldest person in the village, and 50 00:02:57.680 --> 00:03:00.639 her face is a map of every year she lived. 51 00:03:01.039 --> 00:03:05.039 Her eyes are bright and dark, like two polished stones, 52 00:03:05.400 --> 00:03:08.960 and her hands, though wrinkled, are steady as she holds 53 00:03:08.960 --> 00:03:12.560 her lantern. She does not speak. She does not need to. 54 00:03:13.039 --> 00:03:17.719 Everyone knows what happens next. One by one, the people 55 00:03:17.800 --> 00:03:22.439 release their lanterns. They do not throw them. They simply 56 00:03:22.479 --> 00:03:26.479 open their hands and let go, and the lanterns rise. 57 00:03:27.479 --> 00:03:31.280 They rise slowly, at first, wobbling slightly as they find 58 00:03:31.319 --> 00:03:34.960 their balance in the air. Then they steady, and the 59 00:03:35.039 --> 00:03:38.879 warm air inside them lifts them higher and higher still, 60 00:03:39.400 --> 00:03:43.840 until they are above the rooftops, above the trees, above 61 00:03:43.879 --> 00:03:47.520 the rim of the valley itself. From below, it looks 62 00:03:47.560 --> 00:03:50.479 like a constellation of earth bound stars has decided to 63 00:03:50.560 --> 00:03:54.120 visit the sky. The lanterns drift upward in a slow, 64 00:03:54.240 --> 00:03:58.400 graceful procession, each one carrying its wish toward the heavens. 65 00:03:59.039 --> 00:04:03.120 The paper glows from within, soft and golden, and the 66 00:04:03.120 --> 00:04:06.840 words written inside each lantern shine like secrets being shared 67 00:04:06.879 --> 00:04:09.960 with the universe. You are watching this from a bench 68 00:04:10.000 --> 00:04:12.439 at the edge of the square. You have been given 69 00:04:12.479 --> 00:04:14.960 a lantern of your own, though you do not remember 70 00:04:15.000 --> 00:04:17.839 writing a wish on it. But when you look at it, 71 00:04:18.160 --> 00:04:21.000 you see that someone has written something for you, and 72 00:04:21.120 --> 00:04:24.399 handwriting that is familiar, but that you cannot quite place. 73 00:04:24.959 --> 00:04:30.800 It says, simply rest, just that one word Rest. You 74 00:04:30.879 --> 00:04:34.240 hold the lantern by its string. The paper is warm 75 00:04:34.279 --> 00:04:38.639 against your fingers, The candle inside burns steadily, and the 76 00:04:38.680 --> 00:04:42.680 word glows from within, golden and patient. You look up 77 00:04:42.720 --> 00:04:45.839 at the sky, at the other lanterns already rising into 78 00:04:45.879 --> 00:04:48.800 the dark, and you feel something loosen in your chest. 79 00:04:49.240 --> 00:04:52.439 It is the feeling of letting go, of releasing something 80 00:04:52.480 --> 00:04:55.199 you have been holding for so long that you forgot 81 00:04:55.240 --> 00:04:59.839 it was there. You open your hand, the lantern rise, 82 00:05:01.560 --> 00:05:05.800 It lifts away from your fingers, gently, as if it 83 00:05:05.839 --> 00:05:09.480 has been waiting for this moment, as if it knew 84 00:05:09.600 --> 00:05:14.360 you would eventually let go. It joins the others, and 85 00:05:14.480 --> 00:05:19.439 together they drift upward, a river of light flowing into 86 00:05:19.480 --> 00:05:24.360 the dark sky. The people of the village watch in silence. 87 00:05:25.000 --> 00:05:28.959 There is no cheering, no applause. There is only the 88 00:05:29.040 --> 00:05:32.439 quiet sound of the wind in the mountains, and the 89 00:05:32.519 --> 00:05:36.800 occasional murmur of a child asking a question that is 90 00:05:36.879 --> 00:05:42.120 answered in a whisper. The lanterns grow smaller as they rise, 91 00:05:42.920 --> 00:05:48.759 their lights softening, their shapes becoming less distinct, until they 92 00:05:48.759 --> 00:05:53.279 are indistinguishable from the stars. But you know they are 93 00:05:53.360 --> 00:05:58.360 still there. You can feel them, each one carrying its 94 00:05:58.399 --> 00:06:03.480 wish upward, each one burning with a small, steady flame 95 00:06:03.560 --> 00:06:08.319 of hope. The woman who released the first lantern turns 96 00:06:08.519 --> 00:06:13.560 and walks back to her house. Others follow, one by one, 97 00:06:14.160 --> 00:06:18.279 until the square is empty except for you and the 98 00:06:18.319 --> 00:06:22.839 well and the stars. You sit for a long time. 99 00:06:23.480 --> 00:06:28.399 The cobblestones are cool beneath your feet. The well is silent, 100 00:06:29.399 --> 00:06:33.680 The mountains are dark shapes against the darker sky, and 101 00:06:33.759 --> 00:06:40.120 the lanterns, your lantern among them, are still rising, still glowing, 102 00:06:40.879 --> 00:06:46.040 still carrying their wishes into the vast, quiet night. A 103 00:06:46.160 --> 00:06:50.720 breeze moves through the valley. It smells of pine and 104 00:06:50.879 --> 00:06:55.720 wild flowers, and the distant snow that never fully melts 105 00:06:55.759 --> 00:06:59.639 from the hides. It peaks, It touches your face like 106 00:06:59.680 --> 00:07:04.439 a foul hand, and you close your eyes. The word 107 00:07:04.560 --> 00:07:11.399 on your lantern echoes in your mind. Rest, Rest, Rest, 108 00:07:12.040 --> 00:07:15.600 And so you do not because you are told to, 109 00:07:16.160 --> 00:07:20.199 not because you must, but because the word has finally 110 00:07:20.279 --> 00:07:22.519 reached the part of you that needed to hear it. 111 00:07:23.040 --> 00:07:26.120 You rest in the way that the village rests, in 112 00:07:26.199 --> 00:07:29.160 the way that the mountains rest, in the way that 113 00:07:29.199 --> 00:07:32.680 the well rests after a thousand years of giving water. 114 00:07:33.199 --> 00:07:36.319 You rest because it is your nature, because it is 115 00:07:36.399 --> 00:07:39.360 what you were made for, Because the world has asked 116 00:07:39.439 --> 00:07:42.199 nothing of you in this moment except to be still 117 00:07:42.319 --> 00:07:45.319 and let the night hold you. The lanterns are gone, 118 00:07:45.360 --> 00:07:49.800 now merged with the stars, their paper burned to ash, 119 00:07:50.079 --> 00:07:53.560 their wishes released into the infinite. But the warmth of 120 00:07:53.600 --> 00:07:56.959 them lingers, a faint glow in the sky, and a 121 00:07:57.000 --> 00:07:59.920 deeper glow in your chest, where the word rest has 122 00:08:00.120 --> 00:08:04.000 taken root and begun to grow. The village sleeps, the 123 00:08:04.000 --> 00:08:08.160 mountains keep their watch. The well holds its cool clear 124 00:08:08.279 --> 00:08:12.199 water in its stone throat, saving it for morning, when 125 00:08:12.199 --> 00:08:15.360 the people will return with their buckets and their thirst. 126 00:08:15.680 --> 00:08:20.199 But for now, everything is quiet, Everything is still, everything 127 00:08:20.240 --> 00:08:23.720 as exactly as it should be. And you, sitting on 128 00:08:23.759 --> 00:08:26.639 this bench, in this square, in this small village, in 129 00:08:26.639 --> 00:08:30.360 this wide valley, you are quiet too. You are still. 130 00:08:30.720 --> 00:08:33.799 You are held by the night and the stars, and 131 00:08:33.879 --> 00:08:37.559 the memory of forty lanterns rising into the dark, each 132 00:08:37.639 --> 00:08:41.879 one carrying a wish, each one burning with hope, each 133 00:08:41.919 --> 00:08:45.679 one saying the same thing that your lantern said. Rest, 134 00:08:46.200 --> 00:08:50.559 Let go be still. Sleep, And you do. And the 135 00:08:50.679 --> 00:08:54.440 night is deep and kind, and the stars are patient, 136 00:08:55.120 --> 00:08:59.240 and the mountains stand their ancient watch, and you drift 137 00:08:59.720 --> 00:09:05.720 slowly and gently into the quietest, most peaceful sleep you 138 00:09:05.799 --> 00:09:09.360 have known in a long, long time,