When it comes to being productive, to meeting your goals, you're probably like me. You know what you need to do. That's not the problem.The problem is that there's this frustrating gap between knowing what you should do and actually doing it. You can see the path clearly. And you understand the steps.You've probably even planned it out in detail. But when it comes time to actually start, something stops you. And another day passes.And another. And this can sometimes keep us awake at night. That frustration with ourselves. That anxiety about all the things we're not getting done. The goals we're not reaching. We all have goals.Dreams. Things we want to achieve. And we all struggle sometimes to get there. That's not a character flaw. That's being human. And in spite of what you're telling yourself right now, you will sleep again. And you can, very much so, achieve your goals. Tonight, we're going to help. We're going to use hypnotherapy and visualization to guide you into deep, restorative sleep while working with your subconscious mind. And by the time you drift off tonight, your mind will be primed for the focused, purposeful work that has been waiting for you. But first, please make sure you're somewhere safe to fall asleep. And if you take a moment to rate or review the show, I would be grateful. Now, let's begin by making you comfortable. Take a slow, deep breath, filling your lungs. Hold it gently. And now, release it like you're blowing out four candles. One. Two.Three. Four. And let's do that again. Breathe in slowly and deeply. Hold. And then out. One. Two. Three.Four. Keeping that gentle breathing rhythm going, wiggle your toes. Just a little movement.And then let them be completely still. Feel your feet relaxing, your toes uncurling, the arches of your feet softening. And let your ankles go loose and heavy. Continue breathing slowly and deeply. And feel that relaxation spreading up into your calves, those muscles that work so hard all day, holding you up. They can rest now. Let them grow heavy and comfortable. Your knees soften. Your thighs sink into the bed. Your hips release any tension they've been holding. And just keep breathing slow and steady. Feel the relaxation moving up through your lower back, your stomach, and your chest. With each breath out, you're releasing more tension. Your shoulders drop away from your ears. Your arms grow heavy at your sides. Your hands uncurl. Your fingers soft and loose. Your neck releases. Your jaw unclenches. The tiny muscles around your eyes completely relax. Your forehead becomes smooth. Your whole face becomes peaceful and soft. Your entire body is relaxed now, heavy, comfortable. And right now, in this moment, I need you to do something simple but important. Listen to my voice. My voice is going to become your tether to this present moment. As you continue listening, you'll find other sounds in your environment begin to fade. The hum of appliances. The settling of your home. They're all still there. But they're becoming background. Your mind is filtering them out, choosing instead to follow the thread of my voice as it guides you deeper into this relaxed state. If your attention drifts, that's natural. Simply notice it happening and return to my voice like coming home. You're standing at a starting line now. Not literally, of course. Your body is still safely in bed. But in your imagination, you're at the beginning of a run. It's dusk. The sun has set. But the sky still holds some light. That deep blue twilight that makes everything feel suspended between day and night. The course ahead winds through a beautiful wooded trail. Tall trees line both sides of the path. Their leaves rustling softly in the evening breeze. The air smells clean and fresh with that earthy scent of soil and growing things. Pine needles carpet parts of the path. Soft beneath your feet. Your body is strong. Your lungs have capacity. And your muscles know what to do. This isn't a sprint you're about to begin. It's a sustained effort. And here's what's important to understand. This run represents your goal. That thing you've been working toward or want to work toward. But find challenging. Take a moment now to identify what that goal is for you. Maybe it's professional achievement. Maybe it's a creative project. Or a personal transformation. Whatever it is, see it clearly in your mind. And this run you're about to take is that journey. Look down at your running shoes. Feel them solid beneath you. Laced tight. You're wearing comfortable clothes that move with you. You're going to feel the cool evening air on your skin. Around you, other runners are gathering. Some are stretching, bouncing on their toes. Some look nervous. A few are talking, loudly. But you're quiet. You're breathing steadily, naturally. Your heart is beating a little faster. But not from panic. From readiness. There's a moment before any beginning where doubt tries to speak. A small voice suggesting maybe you're not ready. Maybe this isn't the right time. And you've heard this voice before, haven't you? That whisper of, who am I to do this? That feeling of being an imposter. Everyone feels this way. Every single person who's ever achieved anything has felt like an imposter. At the starting line. The difference is, some people start anyway. And you do. You start moving. One foot, and then the other. The first steps feel a little awkward. A little uncertain. And that's normal. Beginning always feels this way. But within 30 seconds, something shifts. Your breathing finds its rhythm. Your arms swing naturally. You're not thinking about running anymore. You're just running. This is what starting your real work feels like. The anticipation is often worse than the doing. The path ahead of you is clear for about 50 meters. And then curves into the trees. You can't see beyond that curve. You don't need to. You're not running the whole distance right now. You're just running to that curve. That's all. One small manageable section at a time. You don't have to see the entire path. You just need to see the next step. Other runners are around you. A few sprint past. Fast. Aggressive. Trying to get ahead early. You let them go. This isn't about speed. It's about endurance. It's about finishing. In your real work, too, there will always be people who seem to be moving faster. Achieving more. Let them. This is your pace. Your journey. You reach the curve and move around it with ease. The sky is losing its purple and deepening into night. But the path is marked. Small reflective markers catch what little light remains. Showing you where to go. One marker at a time. One small goal at a time. In the woods around you, you can hear the settling sounds of evening. Birds finding their roosts. The rustle of small animals. Everything finding its place as day becomes night. Your breathing has become hypnotic now. Your footfalls match this rhythm. A steady percussion that carries you forward. Breath and movement synchronized into a meditation that requires no thought. Only trust. This is flow. This is what it feels like when you stop overthinking your work and just do it. About a quarter mile in, you encounter your first real obstacle. A fallen branch across the path. It's substantial, but not impossible. For a split second, you consider stopping. You could turn back. But your momentum carries you forward. Without breaking stride, you simply step over it. You've experienced obstacles like this in your real work too. Unexpected events. People who complicate things. Moments that make you question whether you should or can continue. But no one achieves their goals without obstacles. They're part of the process. They make you stronger and smarter. More experienced. The runners who sprinted past you earlier are starting to slow now. They went too hard, too fast. Trying to do better. Trying to do everything at once. But you, you're still steady. Your pace hasn't changed. You pass them without comment. Without comparison. This isn't about them. It's only about you and this path. And the steady forward movement. As full darkness settles, you notice side paths branching off from the main route. Small signs promise. Quick route. Or shortcut. These are tempting. In your real work, these are the busy work tasks. The emails that don't matter. The organizing. The planning. Instead of doing. They feel productive because they're easy to complete. But they don't lead to your actual goal. So you stay on the main path. Even though it's harder. Even though it would feel good to turn aside and check something off a list. And then something happens that throws you off. Maybe you catch your foot on a route. You stumble. Not falling, but definitely breaking your rhythm. For a few steps, you're slower. Your breathing disrupted. Your confidence shaken. This is like those setbacks in real life, isn't it? You're making progress towards your goal. And then something happens. You overeat. When you're trying to lose weight. You miss a week of work. When you're on a deadline. Or you get criticism that makes you doubt everything. It feels like you have to start over. Like maybe you should just give up. But here's what you do instead. You feel the stumble. And you recommit. You find your rhythm again. You don't decide. The whole run is ruined. You just return to the breath. Return to the pace. One step. Then another. This is when most people give up. After a setback. But setbacks aren't failures. They're part of everyone's journey. Everyone who succeeded had setbacks. The difference is they kept moving forward anyway. Anyway. You're approaching a hill now. You can see it rising ahead. The path climbing steadily upward through the trees. This is the difficult work. Your calves start to feel it. Some runners ahead of you are walking. You could walk too. No one would judge you. But you know something about yourself now. You're stronger than you thought. Because you trust the process. You did the small work that led to this moment. You kept going through obstacles and setbacks. You're here. Doing the hard thing. So you lean into the hill. You focus on the rhythm. Nothing else exists except this present moment of effort. You're not thinking about the top of the hill. You're only thinking about this one step. And then the next one. And then the next. This is trusting the process. Not needing to see the end to keep going. Just trusting that if you do the next right thing. And then the next. You'll get there. And then suddenly, you're at the top. The ground levels out. Your breathing eases slightly. You did it. Not by thinking about doing it, but by simply continuing to move forward when everything suggested stopping. Through the trees, you can see a clearing ahead. The path is leading you out of the woods and into open space. The final stretch opens before you. You can see lights in the distance. The finish line. Darkness has fully settled now, and you're tired. Genuinely tired. But it's the good kind of tired. The earned kind. You can hear the finish line. Voices. Maybe music. The sounds of completion. And something shifts in you. Not a sprint - you don't need to sprint. But a final gathering of intention. A decision that yes, you're finishing this. Just like you'll see your real goal through. One step at a time, one day at a time, through obstacles and setbacks and doubt and imposter syndrome. You'll keep going. The finish line is twenty meters away. Then ten. Then five. Your arms pump. Your breath surges. And you cross it. Feel the cool night air on your skin, refreshing after the effort. You find a quiet spot just beyond the finish line. Somewhere soft where you can sit, then lie down. The ground feels good beneath you. Solid. Real. You stretch out, looking up at the sky that's now completely dark and filled with stars. Your body is so pleasantly tired. Every muscle has been used. Think about what you've already accomplished in your life. The things you're proud of. Maybe they're big achievements, or maybe they're quiet victories that only you know about. Times you persevered. You've done difficult things before. You have those qualities inside you. Strength. Resilience. The ability to learn and grow. 

Tomorrow morning, when you wake, you'll remember this feeling. You'll know that the work you've been avoiding isn't impossible. It's just a path. And you know how to walk a path now. You focus on the next small marker, not the overwhelming whole. You get back up after setbacks without shame. You ignore busywork that doesn't serve your goal. You trust the process. You keep moving forward even when you feel like an imposter, because everyone feels that way and the ones who succeed are simply the ones who start anyway.

Notice how your breathing has become so slow now. So deep and regular. Your heartbeat has returned to its resting rhythm, steady and peaceful. That earned exhaustion is spreading through every part of your body, making your limbs feel wonderfully heavy, pulling you down into the most restorative rest. Your muscles are releasing now, melting into the surface beneath you. 

Feel how relaxed your face has become. The tiny muscles around your eyes completely soft. Your jaw unclenched. Your forehead smooth. This deep relaxation is spreading through your neck, your shoulders, down through your arms. Everything is becoming heavier, more peaceful. You're right at the edge of sleep now. That beautiful threshold where consciousness begins to fade and dreams begin to form.

This is the sleep you've earned. Deep, satisfied, complete. You're safe here. You're finished for today. Tomorrow you'll wake with clarity, with purpose, with the knowledge that you can do the work that matters. You can achieve your goals. You have everything you need inside you already. But right now, there's nothing left to do except rest. Let sleep take you now. Let it wrap around you like the softest blanket. You've done enough. You've done well. Move forward anyway. I’m Suzanne. This is your ticket to Snoozeville.