From the time we are little, books introduce us to worlds beyond our own. We learn about the animal kingdom, the universe, and faraway places, while fairytales open the door to our imagination.

Through books and stories, we not only read to learn about the world, but also to question it, understand it and find our place within it.

When people come together to write, or read in the company of others, new insights can unfold. We recognise similarities in experiences we thought were uniquely ours, and encounter perspectives we might have never considered on our own. Feeling understood, or even just heard, can remind us that we are not as alone in what we are going through as we might sometimes believe.

One of the earliest signs of what would soon turn my life upside down was an ever-lingering sadness. Walks through rainy forests with my dog and sunny days at the beach, which once brought comfort and joy, suddenly left me feeling hollow. With each day, month and eventually year that passed, everyone and everything around me seemed to drift miles away, while I slowly withdrew from my own life.

One morning last December, I woke up, packed a bag, and had my husband drop me off at the airport. I had booked a flight, but when I got there, I didn’t board it.

Instead, I sat down in the airport café, spending hours trying to understand what I had just done and what was going to happen from that point on.

Timor-Leste has a long and complicated history, shaped by Portuguese colonial rule, Indonesian occupation, and a decades-long struggle for independence.

I had watched many documentaries about its history and the struggle of its people, and eventually decided that I had to visit for myself to get a better understanding of this young nation.

After a dear friend based in Sheikh Jarrah recommended it to me, I’d grown increasingly curious about a very special bookshop and decided one lazy morning to seek it out. And I was not to be disappointed.

Stepping inside The Educational Bookshop, leaving the hustle and bustle of Salah ad-Din Street behind, feels like entering a story of its own.

There is a difference between loneliness and solitude, and it’s one I’ve always been able to distinguish clearly. I don’t feel lonely when I’m alone; on the contrary, I feel more in tune with myself.

And in that lies a kind of freedom that many people, over the years, have told me they wish they could experience as well.

My cousins and I bonded over stacking hay, pulling weeds, setting up beanstalks, and racing go-karts down the quiet road by our house, back when hardly any cars passed through. Looking back, it almost feels like it never really existed.