I just finished a really good book. It was one of those books where every chapter ends on a cliffhanger. Sea monsters, battles, a street urchin who's secretly a princess.Obviously, it's not great literature, but perfect escapism. And at midnight, I was still reading, but my eyes kept closing. The book literally kept falling from my hands as I'd nod off. And I would try and force my eyes back open. I was fighting sleep because I just had to know what happens next. Isn't that strange though? So many midnights I've been wide awake, desperate for sleep.And there I was, not even thinking about sleep. And I couldn't stay awake. Sleep is funny that way.It doesn't come when we chase it. It arrives when we're looking the other way. When we stop trying.In that drowsy state, I kept fighting off. Well, that's what we're after tonight. There's a name for it. The hypnagogic state. Your brain waves literally slow down. It's that velvet threshold. Between waking and sleeping, your whole nervous system downshifting, your body releasing natural chemicals that create that blissful, drowsy feeling. So what's actually happening during this time? And why does it feel so good? Well, when you start to relax, your body releases a whole cascade of calming chemicals. Stress hormones begin to drop.And your brain increases something called GABA. It's a neurotransmitter that slows down your racing thoughts. And those natural feel-good chemicals, endorphins, they start flowing through your system.But some people skip right past this beautiful threshold. They either lie wide awake or they crash straight into unconsciousness. And usually it's because their nervous system won't downshift from high alert. If you've been stressed out for a long time, or if you've had poor sleep for a while, your body can get stuck in guard duty mode. Every small sound, every passing thought yanks you back into full alertness. You can't make yourself fall asleep. You can only create the conditions where sleep can find you. Tonight, we're going to take a journey together. A slow, comfortable train ride through the darkness.And while you listen, while you let yourself be carried along, that velvet hour is going to find you. You're just going to rest here with me, and let sleep arrive in its own time, in its own way. But first, make sure you're somewhere safe and comfortable for sleep. Ideally, in your own bed. Please don't listen anywhere. You need to stay alert. And I also want to thank everyone who's been leaving comments. I especially love when you tell me which episode is working. That feedback really helps when I'm creating new shows. And if you're curious about what book I was reading, feel free to send me a message. Just don't blame me when you can't put it down at midnight. Now, let's get you completely comfortable.And feel how your bed holds you. Notice the places where your body makes contact with the mattress. Your shoulders, your back, and your hips.Let yourself sink just a little deeper into that support. Bring your attention to your breathing. Notice it.Feel the cool air entering your nose, traveling down into your lungs, and then the warm air leaving your body. With each breath in, oxygen is traveling through your bloodstream to every single cell. And with each breath out, your cells are releasing what they don't need anymore.Carbon dioxide. Tension. The remnants of your day.Let's take three deeper breaths together. Breathe in slowly through your nose. And out through your mouth.Again. Breathe in. And then out.One more time. Breathe in deeply. And then let it go. Now bring your attention first to your face. We hold so much tension here without even realizing it. Most people clench their jaw slightly throughout the day.So let your jaw drop open just a bit. And then soften those muscles around your mouth. There's a whole network of tiny muscles here that respond to every emotion, every word, every expression. Right now, they can rest your eyes. Even with your eyelids closed, the muscles around your eyes can stay tense as if they're still trying to focus on something. Let those muscles go.Completely soft. There is nothing to focus on. There's nothing to see. Notice your shoulders. Have your shoulders crept up toward your ears. Let them drop. Feel them fall away from your neck. Creating space. Let that release travel down your arms. Your upper arms. Your elbows. Your forearms.Feel it reach all the way to your hands. Let your fingers uncurl naturally. And then bring your awareness to your hips. And let them settle more heavily into the mattress. Your hip flexors. Those muscles at the front of your hips. They spend all day keeping you upright, whether you're sitting or standing. Feel them soften now. Take one more deep breath.And as you exhale, scan through your body one more time. You're ready now. You're completely relaxed. Completely comfortable. All you need to do now is to listen to my voice. All those worries about whether you'll sleep tonight.Whether you'll be tired tomorrow. Let them go. Trust that I know where we're going.You don't need to think about what comes next. Or wonder if this is working. Or try to figure anything out.Your only job right now is to rest. And listen. I want you to imagine something now.You're no longer in your bed. You're somewhere else entirely. Somewhere you've always wanted to be. You're tucked into a sleeper compartment on a night train. An old-fashioned one. The kind they don't make anymore. The walls are lined with warm wood. Polished smooth by decades of hands running along them. You're already in bed.Covers pulled up high. The sheets are crisp and cool against your skin. And they smell faintly of fresh air. That clean outdoorsy scent that makes you think of blind dried laundry. The blanket over you is heavy wool. Deep burgundy red.And its weight feels wonderful. Comforting. Like a gentle hand resting on your shoulder. You're on a journey to see someone you care about deeply. Someone you've been looking forward to seeing for weeks. Your small bag sits on the floor beside the bed. It's packed with comfortable clothes and everything you need. Simple things. Favorite things. The journey so far has been perfect. Everyone on the train has been so kind. The conductor who helped you find your compartment. The server in the dining car who brought you exactly what you wanted without you even having to ask. You had a delicious meal earlier. Something warm and satisfying that left you feeling pleasantly full. And afterward, you spent time in the observation car. Watching the countryside roll by. Thinking about how wonderful tomorrow will be. How good it will feel to see that person's face light up when you arrive. But now, you're in bed. And you feel so safe. So secure. The door to your compartment is locked. The curtains are drawn back just enough to see out the window. No one needs anything from you. No one is asking you to do anything. Outside your window, the landscape is beautiful in the fading light. Stone walls line the tracks. Walls built by hand so long ago that moss grows thick in the cracks between stones. Beyond them, rolling fields stretch into the distance, divided by dark hedgerows. You pass a small village. Cottages cluster together along a winding lane. Smoke drifts from chimneys. And warm light spills onto the street. The rhythm of the train is working its way into your body now. That sound the wheels make as they cross each joint in the rails. It's hypnotic. Your breathing is starting to match it without you even trying. You're feeling more relaxed now. Sleepier. That good kind of tired that comes from a full day. And the knowledge that tomorrow will bring good things. The train rocks you gently. The blanket's weight holds you down. The sheets are warming from your body heat. You're in that perfect position. The position where everything feels exactly right. And you don't want to move even an inch. The landscape is changing as the light fades. The field of sheep, all of them lying down for the night in small clusters. A stone bridge crossing a dark stream where willows grow along the banks. A barn standing alone on a hillside. It's weathered wood, silvery in the dimming light. And in the distance, the train's whistle sounds from inside your cozy compartment. It's muffled and soft, lonely in a beautiful way. The sound of travel, of journeys, of being carried towards something good. Your eyelids are growing heavy now. The combination of the rocking, the rhythm, the fading light. It's all working together. You're feeling so much sleepier, so much more relaxed than you were even five minutes ago. The sky outside is deepening from blue to indigo. The fields are losing their detail, becoming soft shapes. Here and there, a farmhouse window glows warm. Against the gathering dusk, you pass a small cottage with a garden. And even in the dimness, you can see the shapes of roses climbing a trellis. You pass through a station without stopping. A single lamp burns on the platform. An old clock on the station house shows the time, though you're too drowsy to read it. You're thinking about tomorrow, about the special breakfast in the dining car. The silver coffee pot. The heavy silverware with its beautiful pattern. The white linens. The countryside rushing past. And then arriving, seeing that face you've been missing. The hug. The happiness. Tomorrow will be wonderful. The countryside is darker now. The stone walls barely visible. The fields just dark expanses. Stars are appearing. Just a few at first. The brightest ones. And then more and more as the sky darkens. You pass through another village. Street lamps glow. A dog trots down the empty street. The whole world is settling down for the night. Just like you. A few drops of rain begin to powder against the window. Gentle at first, and then steadier. Not a storm. Just a soft evening rain. It streaks the glass. The sound joins the rhythm of the train. The rain. The wheels. The gentle creaking of the car. As it rocks. Your eyes close for a moment. When you open them, everything seems softer. Dreamier. The landscape outside is just suggestions now. The dark shape of a hill. The faint line of a wall. The shapes of trees against the slightly lighter sky. You're so sleepy. The kind of sleepy where your whole body feels like it's melting into the mattress. Where keeping your eyes open takes actual effort. The light from your lamp is so soft. The pillow beneath your head is perfect. That heavy blanket is exactly the right weight. The train rocks you. Outside, the night is complete. No more villages. No more lights. Just darkness and the sound of rain and the rhythm carrying you deeper and deeper. Everything is slowing. Your breathing. Your heartbeat. Your thoughts. All of it slowing, softening, fading. You're in that threshold now. That velvet hour. Where sleep is just one more gentle step. One more soft letting go. Tomorrow will bring good things. You know this. But tonight, right now, let yourself take that final step. Let sleep find you here, in this peaceful darkness, rocked by this gentle rhythm. I'm Suzanne. This is your ticket to snoozeville. Sleep now. Sleep deeply. Sleep well.