Speaker 1: There are only the books. There are only the shelves.
Speaker 1: There are only the soft green lamps, and the worn
Speaker 1: leather chairs, and the thick carpet, and the centuries of
Speaker 1: stories held in the wood, and the paper. You close
Speaker 1: your eyes, the library is still there. You can feel
Speaker 1: it around you, the shelves, the books, the soft hum
Speaker 1: of all the words ever written, held quietly in this
Speaker 1: one place. The library softens, the book is closed. The
Speaker 1: book is waiting for someone to read it. But the
Speaker 1: some one does not need to be you. The room
Speaker 1: is for someone. The room is not for you tonight.
Speaker 1: You only need to see it. You only need to
Speaker 1: know it is there. You walk on. You come to
Speaker 1: another door. This one is also open. Through this door,
Speaker 1: you can see a sitting room. There is a fireplace.
Speaker 1: Not in a rush. You step through the way you
Speaker 1: have been stepping through everything to night, slowly, gently, one
Speaker 1: breath at a time. The door closes behind you. The
Speaker 1: door makes no sound. The door does not lock. You
Speaker 1: can return whenever you need to. The door will be there.
Speaker 1: The door is always there. On the other side of
Speaker 1: the door. The world is soft. The world is far away.
Speaker 1: The lamp has a soft fabric shade. The lamp is
Speaker 1: the kind of lamp that gives the kind of light
Speaker 1: you would want if you were reading a book late
Speaker 1: at night. But tonight, the lamp is off. Tonight. The
Speaker 1: only light in the room is the light from the window.
Speaker 1: The light from the window is the light of the moon.
Speaker 1: The room is quiet. The room is patient. The room
Speaker 1: is waiting for you to settle in. The grass is
Speaker 1: the green of new growth. In the center of the circle,
Speaker 1: there is a single tree, and the tree is old.
Speaker 1: The tree is large. The tree's branches spread wide, making
Speaker 1: a canopy of leaves that filters the light into dappled
Speaker 1: patterns on the grass. You sit beneath the tree. You
Speaker 1: lean against the trunk. The trunk is solid, The trunk
Speaker 1: is warm from the sun. You feel held by the tree.
Speaker 2: You do not need to solve anything tonight. You do
Speaker 2: not need to figure anything out. You do not need
Speaker 2: to plan. You do not need to worry. You only
Speaker 2: need to breathe. You only need to let go. Your
Speaker 2: body knows how to sleep. Your body has known since
Speaker 2: you are born. Your body remembers. Your body knows the way.
Speaker 2: Trust your body, let your body lead. Your mind is
Speaker 2: allowed to wander. The illustration is beautiful. You look at
Speaker 2: it for a long time. You do not read the words,
Speaker 2: You do not need to. You put the book back,
Speaker 2: you walk on. There are reading desks in the library,
Speaker 2: long wooden desks with green shaded lamps. There are soft
Speaker 2: chairs beside some of the desks. The chairs are leather.
Speaker 2: The chairs are worn soft by years of readers sitting
Speaker 2: in them.
Speaker 1: The quiet hums. The quiet has a texture. The quiet
Speaker 1: is the texture of centuries of words held in one place.
Speaker 1: There is a smell in the library, the smell of paper,
Speaker 1: the smell of leather, the smell of dust that is
Speaker 1: not unpleasant, the kind of dust that means age, that
Speaker 1: means care, that means books have lived here for a
Speaker 1: long time. The light in the library comes from lamps
Speaker 1: set on long wooden tables. The shelves fade, the lamps dim,
Speaker 1: The chair dissolves into the feeling of being held. The
Speaker 1: dream becomes the sense of being in a place that
Speaker 1: is vast and quiet and kind. The walls are painted
Speaker 1: a color that has no name, a color that lives
Speaker 1: somewhere between cream and pale rose, a color that holds
Speaker 1: the light without reflecting it back too sharply. There is
Speaker 1: a chair in the corner of the room, a chair
Speaker 1: with arms. The chair is upholstered in a fabric that
Speaker 1: is soft and worn and welcoming. You are not going
Speaker 1: to sit in the chair tonight. You are not going
Speaker 1: to need it. You do not need to read. You
Speaker 1: only need to hold the book. You only need to
Speaker 1: feel it's ape. You put the book back. You pull another.
Speaker 1: This one is larger. This one is bad in green.
Speaker 1: The pages are heavier, the pages are edged in gold.
Speaker 1: You open it to a random page. There is an illustration,
Speaker 1: a woodcut of a tree, of a figure walking beneath
Speaker 1: the tree, of a sky full of stars. The illustration
Speaker 1: is simple. You are almost there. You are at the door.
Speaker 1: The door of sleep is just ahead of you. The
Speaker 1: door is open. The door has been open all along.
Speaker 1: The door has been waiting for you to arrive. Through
Speaker 1: the door. There is only rest through the door. There
Speaker 1: is only the slow tide of the body letting go
Speaker 1: through the door. There is only the quiet dark, the
Speaker 1: safe dark, the kind dark you step through, not all
Speaker 1: at once. The feel the weight of your belly, feel
Speaker 1: the warmth of your belly. The belly is the soft
Speaker 1: center of you. The belly is where you hold your feelings.
Speaker 1: Let it be soft, tonight, Let it be safe. Feel
Speaker 1: your hips, Feel your hips heavy on the bed, Feel
Speaker 1: the bones of your pelvis resting into the mattress.