The Alchemist
- My Vision -
ęSam Weber

Somewhere is a bookshop. Wood panelled walls are lined with books that inspire. The bookshop is called The Alchemist because it is a place of transformation.

Off to one side there is a room of healing. A simple room of beauty. Lacy curtains, soft wind chimes, healthy plants.

In the room is a Healer. In the Bookshop there is a woman who sees.

The light in the bookshop is soft and diffused. There is a stained glass window, an arch of light. Candles and incense burn in the bookshop but there is no hazard of fire or anything else. It is a place of peace.

 The counter is set towards the back of the room. The counter is a large, gleaming desk of dark wood. The desk has many drawers where sweet secrets are stored.

Sometimes the woman sits quietly behind the desk and writes words of magic.

 There are books behind the counter. These are not for sale. These are for giving to Seekers.

 There are no rules in the Bookshop for it is holy ground and the Light shines on all who enter there.

 There are big comfortable chairs to sink away in. To read in. To rest in. Next to each chair there is paper and pens. You can even write in the books if you want. What you write is the Truth.

Sometimes there is music in the bookshop. Music that comes from the healing room. Beautiful and soft.

 The healer and the woman do not wear shoes. Sometimes the woman wears toe rings.

Outside this place is a beautiful garden of comfortable size where surprises are to be found. No one ever leaves empty handed.

There are large trees in the garden. One has a swing. Honeysuckle, jasmine, a profusion of scented air to breathe and fill the lungs.

 Nougat is served.

 One day a child comes in. Some children do. For them the bookshop is the most magical place on earth. Some read. Some sit in the chairs and look at the Sun through the stained glass window. Mostly they come for the magic and the nougat. They feel very grown up, eating the nougat for nougat is an adult sweet. The strange thing is that when the adults eat the nougat they feel like children for all sweets are a children-thing.

 The child asks the woman: "Who is the alchemist, you or the healer?"

Quietly the woman opens a drawer, takes out a mirror and holds it up to the child.

 "You are the alchemist," she says. "For if you are not then no-one is."