Not every mind is quiet,
Some are rivers,
Always flowing,
Some are fires,
Always burning,
And some are like the sky,
Always thinking,
Shifting,
Dreaming,
Moving.
This story is about one of those minds,
And maybe it's also about yours.
So now,
Take a breath,
Inhale,
Exhale.
Let the words slow down,
Just for a little while.
Let your heart know it's safe to rest.
Let your thoughts know they can't soften too.
Let us begin.
There was once a girl named Aaliyah,
Who lived in a small house by the edge of a forest.
Each night,
When everyone else was asleep,
Aaliyah would lie in bed,
Eyes wide open,
Her thoughts spinning like tiny stars.
She thought about everything,
What she had said that day,
What she hadn't said,
What someone might have meant,
What could go wrong tomorrow.
Even the wind outside seemed to whisper to her restless mind,
Please,
Be quiet,
Please,
Just stop for a while.
But the thoughts didn't stop.
One night,
She go up from bed,
And tiptoe to the old library in her house.
It was full of forgotten books and dusty scrolls.
There,
She found a small,
Worn knot tucked into a book of stars.
It read,
When the mind is loud,
Go to the whispering room.
She had never heard of such a place,
But something in her chest felt warm,
Like a lantern being lit.
She whispered out loud,
Take me to the whispering room.
The wind outside grew softer,
The door cracked open on its own,
And the journey began.
Aaliyah stepped into the night,
The forest looked different now.
The trees shimmered slightly,
As if they too had thoughts of their own.
She walked along a glowing path,
And noticed that her thoughts were no longer just in her head,
They floated beside her in the air.
Little glowing bubbles,
Each holding a worry,
A memory,
A question.
Some were beautiful,
Some were heavy,
Some were sharp.
She tried to grab one,
But it vanished like mist.
A soft voice came from the trees,
Don't chase them,
Just watch.
So she walked and watched,
And the more she watched,
The quieter her breath became.
The mind didn't feel like a storm anymore.
It was still a river,
Yes,
But now it was flowing gently.
Soon,
Aaliyah arrived at a glowing gate.
A voice said,
To enter,
Leave your questions behind.
She hesitated,
Her questions were part of her,
But she was tired of holding them.
So,
She set them down,
Like pebbles at the gate,
And stepped inside.
The garden was vast,
The moonlight bathed everything in silver.
In the center,
There was a steel pond.
She sat by it,
The water reflected her face,
But also her thoughts,
And for the first time,
She didn't try to change them,
She simply watched.
The silence didn't feel empty now,
It felt full,
Full of wisdom.
The pond whispered,
Stillness is not the end of thinking,
It is the home where thoughts rest.
From the trees came an old monk,
Walking slowly.
He sat beside her,
Without a word.
After a while,
He spoke.
You don't need to fix the mind,
You only need to stop fighting it.
Elia nodded,
She had fought so much,
Trying to control everything,
Trying to always be calm.
You are not your thoughts,
The monk said.
You are the sky,
Thoughts are the weather.
He handed her a mirror made of quiet stone.
When she looked in,
She didn't see her face.
She saw space,
Peaceful,
Open space.
She began to cry,
Not because she was sad,
But because she felt free.
The monk led her back through the garden,
She picked up her questions at the gate.
But they didn't feel so heavy anymore,
Some had even vanished.
As she walked through the forest,
The glowing bubbles were still there,
But they no longer chased her.
They simply drifted,
As she simply walked.
When she returned to her bed,
The wind was quiet.
The ceiling above her seemed to smile.
She placed the mirror beneath the pillow and whispered,
Thank you.
Now,
Find your breath again.
You are not your thoughts,
You are the sky.
The vast,
Quiet,
Loving sky.
Thoughts may come,
Let them.
They are just clouds,
You are still.
Let your forehead soften,
Let your jaw unclench.
Let your chest rise and fall like ocean waves.
Feel the ground beneath you.
You are safe.
You are held.
Tonight,
You don't need to fix anything.
You don't need to achieve anything.
You only need to rest.
You are enough.
You have always been enough.
Let the quiet guide you home.
Sleep well,
Sweet traveler of the mind.
Your journey is sacred.
Good night.
