Growing up, Christmas was a very big deal in our house. The magic would start weeks before the actual day. The baking, the decorating, the anticipation building and building until Christmas day finally arrived.Everything felt perfect, magical. My parents weren't perfect people, but they made the holidays feel absolutely perfect. And then I became an adult.And like so many of us, I tried to recreate that magic. I bake. I decorate.I shop and wrap. I send cards. I exhaust myself trying to make everything perfect.And every year, there's this nagging feeling that it's not quite good enough. But somehow, I'm falling short of that perfect childhood memory. But just lately, I've realized that it will never be good enough.And not because I'm failing, but because I was a child then. Christmas just is magic when you're a child. In a way, you can't recreate as an adult.And my mother, who made it all look so effortless, she was probably exhausted too. I just never saw it. Is that you? Does this time of year herald the beginning of endless to-do lists that somehow never get shorter? The feeling of being stretched too thin, whether you're managing a household, trying to meet deadlines at work, or just navigating the emotional weight of the season.December asks so much of us. And then we lie awake at night, minds racing.  So tonight, under December's cold full moon, I'm going to help you let go and drift into the kind of sleep that actually restores you. This stark, beautiful moon hangs in the winter sky above all our chaos.And it offers us something we need far more than perfection. Rest. Permission to slow down.Permission to be still. Permission to sleep deeply. Without the racing thoughts.Without the endless lists. Tonight, the cold moon will guide you there. But first, the essentials.Make sure you're somewhere safe to fall asleep. This episode is specifically designed to send you into deep sleep. So please don't listen while doing anything that requires you to stay awake.And if you're finding these episodes helpful, I'd be very grateful if you would rate or review the show. It's the kind of thing that takes 30 seconds, but it helps other tired people find us when they need it. Plus, your reviews make my day.It turns out that your voice puts me to sleep is actually the nicest compliment a person could ask for. Now, let's begin by helping your body remember what it feels like to truly rest. Start by settling into wherever you are.Adjust those pillows. Pull your blankets up around you. Just make sure you're as comfortable as possible. Place one hand on your belly. And we'll start to breathe together. Take a slow, deep breath in. Feeling your belly rise beneath your hand. And then release it. A nice, long exhale. Letting it carry away all of the day's tension. Let's do that again. Breathe in slowly. Filling your lungs. And then exhale. Feel how your shoulders drop just slightly. With each exhale. And one more time. A deep breath in.And then let it go. And with each exhale. Imagine you're releasing your grip on December.On all the things you think you should be doing. All the ways you think you should be better. Just for now.You can set it all down. Your body has been holding tension that you may not even realize. Tension in your jaw. Tension in your shoulders. From carrying so much. Tension in your chest.From holding it all together. But right now, you can let your body soften. You can let it rest.Outside, the cold moon is rising. Not the warm, golden moon of summer. And not the harvest moon of autumn. This is December's full moon. The cold moon. And it's like no other moon of the year. Up high, the winter air is so clear and cold. That the moon appears sharper than at any other time. Brighter.More defined. It hangs high in the winter sky. Tracing its longest arc across the darkness. Its light is different too. Almost white. Like starlight. Concentrated into a perfect circle. And what does this moon illuminate? Not lush gardens. Or abundant harvests.It shines on emptiness. On bare branches stripped of leaves. On fields lying fallow under snow. On a world that has let go of trying to grow. Trying to bloom. Trying to produce. Winter has stopped trying. And it's beautiful. The bare trees show their true architecture now. Their elegant structure visible without decoration. The fields rest under blankets of snow. Clean and simple.Everything is reduced to essentials. Dark and light. Shelter and exposure. Rest. And waking. Nothing in the winter landscape is trying to be more than it is. And the cold moon shines on all of it. Saying this is enough. This bareness. This simplicity. This rest. Imagine now that this moonlight is finding its way to you. Through your window. Through your walls. Through whatever separates you from the night sky. The cold moon's light is reaching for you. Clear. And silver.And impossibly gentle. Feel it touching your feet. First.Cool light. Soothing. Like the first snow of winter. The light seeps between your toes. Around your heels. Across the arches of your feet. Every small bone. Every tendon. Every muscle is letting go.Your feet have carried you everywhere today. They've walked you through your day. Through whatever this particular December day demanded.And they'll carry you through many more days to come. But right now. They can rest.Right now they can simply be held by this soft, pure moonlight. The light rises to your ankles. Cool and silvery.It spirals up your calves. And as it moves. Your muscles relax.That tightness you've been holding. Dissolves like frost in sunlight. Feel the moonlight reaching your knees.Filling every crease and hollow. Your entire lower body is growing heavier. More relaxed.The moonlight flows into your lower back. Touching each vertebrae. Filling the spaces between them.With cool, soothing light. Your spine begins to feel lighter somehow. As if the moonlight is lifting the weight you've been carrying.All those responsibilities. All those expectations. All that pressure.Imagine it dissolving. In this clear, cold light. The moonlight swirls through your abdomen.Your belly softening with each breath. The light rises to your chest now. Cool yet soft.It settles in the space around your heart. And something there. Releases some weight that you've been carrying.Not because of what you've done or haven't done. Not because of how perfect your holiday is. Or isn't.But because you are. Right now. In this moment.Feel this truth. Settling into your chest. The cold moon doesn't try to be warmer.Or brighter. Or more decorated. It simply shines as it is. Stark. And beautiful. And complete.Like you. The light flows down your arms now. All the way to your fingertips.Arms that have done so many things for others. Feel them growing heavier. Relaxed.At peace. Your hands uncurl. Your fingers soften. And the moonlight fills each one until they feel like they're glowing from within. The light rises up. To your shoulders.Releasing any remaining tension there. Feel it moving into your throat. Bringing calm to your voice.Your breathing. Your very expression. The moonlight traces your jaw.And if you've been clenching it, even slightly, feel it soften now. The light flows across your cheeks. Cool and soothing.It touches your temples. Your forehead. Smoothing away any lines of worry. Or stress. Feel it moving behind your eyes. And if they're tired.From too little sleep. And too much doing. Let the moonlight soothe them.Let your eyelids grow heavy. With this beautiful coolness. This permission to close.To rest. To see nothing but darkness. The light reaches the crown of your head.And for a moment, imagine yourself completely illuminated by the cold moon's light. Beautiful. Exactly as you are.And then the light begins to settle. Sinking into your body. Becoming part of you.The brightness fades to a gentle glow. And then to a deep, restful peace. Your entire body is heavy now.Completely relaxed. Every muscle has released its grip. Every cell is at rest.In your mind's eye, imagine yourself standing outside. Under this cold moon. The air is cold enough that you can see your breath.But you're warm in your coat. Your scarf wrapped around you. The night is clear.And the sky is full of stars. But the moon outshines them all. You're standing in a winter landscape.Everything's covered in fresh snow. That glows white under the moonlight. The world is so quiet.You can hear the silence itself. A deep, peaceful hush. That seems to hold everything gently.Look at the trees around you. They're completely bare. Their branches reaching up to the sky in elegant, simple lines. They're not trying to have leaves. They're not decorated with anything but maybe a dusting of snow. Or a coating of frost.They're just being. Standing. Resting.And they're beautiful. The cold moon shines down on them. And its light says, this is enough.This simplicity. You can hear nothing but your own breathing. And maybe, the soft crunch of snow. Under your boots. As you shift your weight. No cars.No voices. No demands. Just this vast, peaceful, quiet.The moonlight casts your shadow long and sharp across the snow. Everything is reduced to essentials here. Dark.And light. Cold air. And warm breath. The earth below. And the sky above. Nothing complicated.Nothing requiring your management. Stand here for a moment. Breathing in this cold, clean air.And look up at that impossibly bright moon. Feel how small you are under its light. But also, how held. How watched over. It has seen every kind of celebration. Every kind of struggle.Every kind of human. Trying to make things perfect. And falling short.And it keeps shining. Simple. Constant.Beautiful. Not because it tries hard. But because it is simply itself.You can be that, too. Simply yourself. Without all the effort.All the striving for perfection. Just you. Under this moon.Breathing. Being. Feel the peace of this winter night settling into your bones. The permission to stop trying so hard. The understanding that beauty doesn't require you to exhaust yourself. That magic doesn't depend on perfection.Take one more deep breath. And as you exhale, feel yourself beginning to return. Not to the chaos of December. But to your bed. To warmth. To safety.To rest. You're lying in your bed now. And the winter scene fades.But its peace remains. The Cold Moon is still there, outside your window, shining its clear light on the world. But you don't need to see it to feel its presence.Feel how heavy your body is. How completely relaxed. Your breathing is slow and deep, and with each exhale, you're releasing any remaining grip on the day, on December, on all the pressure you've been carrying. Your bed holds you perfectly. The pillow cradles your head. The blankets create exactly the right weight and warmth around you. The Cold Moon is watching over the world, and you can rest. You can let go. You can sleep. Your body knows how to do this. How to let go. How to sleep. It's done it thousands of times before. Trust it now. Trust the darkness. Trust the quiet. Trust the Cold Moon watching over you as it has watched over countless others on countless December nights.You are part of an eternal cycle. Waking and sleeping. Doing and resting. Trying and releasing. And right now, in this moment, it's time to rest. Time to sleep. Time to let the world continue without your constant attention.The bare trees are sleeping. The fields under snow are sleeping. The whole winter world is resting under the Cold Moon's light. And you can rest too. Feel yourself drifting now. Floating on the edge of sleep. Your thoughts are like snowflakes, appearing and disappearing, impossible to hold onto. You can feel yourself drifting.  Into the quiet. Into the dark. I’m Suzanne. And this is your ticket to snoozeville. Sleep now. Sleep deeply. Sleep well.