Slowing down one page at a time

There’s a quiet kind of magic in opening a book. 

No pings, no scrolling, no pressure – just ink on paper and a story waiting to unfold.

Back in June I introduced The Book Box at the studio. 

Nothing fancy. 

Just a box where you can take a book, leave a book, or swap one when you’ve finished. 

It started as a small idea – something I hoped might add a little calm to your day and it’s sparked lovely conversations, a few well-thumbed paperbacks being passed along, and a gentle sense of shared rest.

Because that’s really what it’s about: rest.

We’re all so overstimulated. 

Screens in our pockets, tabs always open, attention pulled in ten different directions before breakfast. 

And while I’m the first to encourage movement, touch, and all the bodywork we do in Pilates and massage – I also know that true rest isn’t just about physical stillness. 

It’s about mental space.

Reading gives us that.

There’s something beautifully old-fashioned about curling up with a book. 

It asks for your attention in a quiet, undemanding way. 

It gives your nervous system a chance to breathe. 

It doesn’t judge you if you re-read the same sentence five times because your mind wandered – it just patiently waits until you’re ready.

The Book Box is there to offer that pause. 

A moment to choose something slower. 

Whether it’s fiction, a memoir, a bit of poetry or even a light hearted holiday read, it’s yours to take, enjoy, and maybe pass on again when you’re done.

Reading doesn’t need to be productive. 

It doesn’t need to teach you something or fix anything. It can simply be a way to soften the edges of your day. 

A gentle act of turning inward without disconnecting completely.

Swapping even ten minutes of scrolling for a few pages before bed can help settle the nervous system. 

It’s rhythmic, quiet, and gives the eyes a break from blue light – and often, the mind follows.

So next time you’re in the studio, have a look in the Book Box. 

See if something catches your eye. 

And if you’ve got a story you’ve loved, consider leaving it behind for someone else. 

We could all do with a bit more stillness, and stories are a lovely way to get there.

Sam ‘the returning book worm’ Hobbs