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I give you permission to chill and not worry. Just for a few minutes while you read my shit, you can forget about the world and just chill. There's a fire crackling happily and a big comfy couch with blankets and cushions. An old dog sleeps in front of the fire, though every now and then she lifts her head, cracks open one eye and makes sure you're still there.

You can hear the rain outside lashing against the window but in here it's warm and cosy. There's plenty of wood in the basket, food and drink in the hamper, good books on the shelf. A kitten wanders in from the other room and springs onto the back of the couch and pushes into your hand, purring.

You have absolutely nothing to do and nowhere to be. It's as if the whole world out there suddenly stopped and all that exists in the universe is this warm little firelit room where you and I get to spend a few moments.

How did we get here? Who cares. Where are we going? Don't worry about it. If there's one thing in this world I'm sure of, it's how you needn't worry about one single thing. Let the words wash over you like water. Sink into them like a hot bath. Let your muscles relax. Feel your shoulders relax. Unknit your brow and smile.