If you’ve been on your writing journey for a while, I’m sure you have, at least, heard of Julia Cameron’s “Morning Pages” — but I guess you most probably have tried her practice or even integrated it into your days. Writing first thing in the morning is all about clearing the mind and opening up your channel for creativity to flow.

I am, and have always been, more of a night person. ⋆✴︎˚｡🦉⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚
An “after midnight” person, to be more precise.
Today I want to share my idea of something I would simply call “After Midnight Pages”…

I love the quieter hours when the collective mind has gone to sleep. Now, in summer, I like to leave the balcony door wide open, and mostly one of my beloved stray cats is sitting downstairs, extensively cleaning himself after having enjoyed a great meal and a session of caresses. I can see the village’s church in a distance, wrapped in golden light. Our small street is barely illuminated by the amber glow of a few lanterns. Candles are burning inside. A paper star, originally thought as a Christmas ornament, is radiating its gentle, lace-like patterns onto the wall in front of me. Piano music is playing in the background, so softly that it won’t wake anyone — but if someone still passes by our house at this time, they might perceive it, yet wonder if it’s only in their imagination. “La brisa nocturna” is playing with the curtains and letting them flow into their very own, unique dance.
This setting creates a cocoon of intimacy. The veil between conscious and subconscious is thinner now.

This is where the “After Midnight Pages” are born…

They are not about productivity, not about “getting something done.”

They are an opportunity to gather the threads of the day, weave them into meaning and soften the edges before drifting into, hopefully, sweet dreams.

They can become a ritual of slowing down, of whispering onto the page what couldn’t be said during the day.

They can be the right moment to leave a love note to your future self, or to write a letter of longing to the stars.

They open a space for you to share confessions too delicate for daylight. They are slower, gentler… Almost like a prayer.

While the night hours wrap their comforting blanket around you, you’re allowed to just be who you truly are. Let the silence cradle you. Let your pen carry your inner magic to the stars.

Your soul has been waiting for this moment with tender anticipation. I won’t interfere with any questions this time… I trust your soul. I trust the moon, the stars, the silence. Gift yourself a few moments to listen… And then write.