So the other day, I was driving to work, and I passed someone who had had an accident. It wasn't a serious one, just a fender bender. And you know how you don't want to slow down and look, but you can't help just glancing over.And there was this one woman standing by her car on the phone, and she looked like she was about to cry. And I thought, she's having a bad day. I know that kind of day. You probably do too. And I'm guessing if you picked this episode to listen to, you may have had one today. And maybe that's why you can't sleep. Maybe you're lying there with your chest feeling tight, or your stomach in knots. Maybe your thoughts are looping, jumping from one worry to the next. Maybe you feel alone, like you're the only person awake right now, carrying whatever it is you're carrying.Your feelings are completely valid. Whatever happened today, big or small, if it hurt, it hurt. But here's one thing you are not.Alone. Bad days, they're part of life. Everyone knows what one feels like.I do. So tonight, I'm going to try to make you feel a little less alone. I'm going to relax your body.And then we're going to quiet your mind by taking it somewhere else for a while. But before we begin, please make sure that you are somewhere safe to fall asleep. This episode uses techniques designed to help you drift off.So you need to be in bed, and not anywhere you need to stay alert. And I also want to say that having a bad day and being depressed are different things. If you've been feeling low for weeks, if the bad days have started to outnumber the good ones, please talk to someone qualified to help.But if tonight is just a particularly rough night in what's generally a manageable life, then let's get you through it. Take a moment to make yourself as comfortable as possible. Find that position your body naturally wants to be in.Make sure your room is dark. As dark as you can make it. And if it's a little warm, crack a window if you can. Cool air helps you sleep. And quiet. Or as quiet as possible. If there are sounds you can't control, that's okay. We'll work with them. And now I want you to take a long, slow, deep breath with me. Breathe in deeply. Fill your belly first. And then your chest.Hold it for just a moment. And then let it all out. Like you're sighing out the entire day.Let's do that again. Breathe in. Fill yourself with calm and quiet air.Hold it. And release. Now just breathe naturally. And as you breathe, I want you to pay attention to your body. Really notice it. And start with your neck.We carry so much tension there. All those hours looking at screens. Holding your head up.Notice if there's any tightness. Let those muscles soften. Let your head sink deeper into your pillow.Feel where your shoulders are right now. And let them drop. Just let gravity take them.Feel the weight of your arms pulling your shoulders down. Your hands. Feel your hands now.Let your fingers uncurl. Let your palms open. And let your wrists go soft and loose.Your legs. Your thighs. Your calves. They've been holding you up all day. They've been working. Let them rest now.Feel them getting heavier. Feel them sinking down. And finally, give your fingers a little wiggle. Just a small movement. And your toes. Wiggle them gently.And then let your fingers and your toes go completely still. Your whole body is resting now. From the top of your head down to your fingertips and toes.Everything's soft. Everything heavy. Your breathing is slow and steady.Your heart rate is calming. You're safe. You're ready.Now I want you to let my voice become the only thing that matters. Not the thoughts circling in your mind about today. Just my voice.Let it be like a thread you're following through darkness. Your only job right now is to stay with the sound of my voice as it guides you somewhere quiet. All you have to do is listen.I want you to imagine that you're in a room. A dark room. Not completely black.There's a faint gray light coming from somewhere. But it's dim. The air in here is very still.Like it hasn't moved in a long time. And it's quiet. You can hear muffled sounds from somewhere beyond the walls. Voices maybe. Or distant traffic. They're so muffled.They're barely there. The floor beneath your feet is wood. You can feel the grain of it. Just like give in the boards as you move. It's worn smooth in some places. Rough in others.And there's a smell here. Dusty and old. Like an attic.Or a church basement. That particular scent of a space that doesn't get much air. Or light.Your pacing. Back and forth. Across this room.From one wall to the other. And you're absorbed completely in your thoughts. Replaying your day.Turning it over. And over. Maybe it's just a feeling.Sitting heavy in your chest. This is what it feels like when you've had a bad day. When something has knocked you sideways. It feels like being here. In this dim, dusty room. You're separate from the normal world. You're stuck with your thoughts. And your feelings. And you feel alone. Like you're the only person carrying this particular hurt. And you know, intellectually, that it won't always feel this way. That tomorrow will be different.But that knowledge doesn't help right now. Not in this moment. Because right now, it just feels bad.But here's one thing. That you can do in this room. One thing that will actually help. You can be very, very kind to yourself. This matters more than you think. Because the world isn't always going to be kind to you.We'd all like to live in a world where everyone treats us gently when we're struggling. But we might be waiting a while for that. When life kicks you around a little bit. And it will. It kicks us all around. It's good to go easy on yourself. You deserve some downtime. Some space to just be. Without judgment.Without pushing yourself to be productive. Or positive. Or over it already.And whatever that means to you. Soft clothing. Music you love.A place that replenishes you. Saying no to people who want things from you. That's not being lazy.That's not being selfish. That's self-care. So let's change this room a little bit.Imagine that a soft, warm light appears. A gentle golden glow. It fills the corners of your room.And you're wearing different clothes now. Soft fabric against your skin. A sweater maybe.A worn t-shirt. Clothes that feel like a hug. And there is scent in the air now.Something lovely. Maybe it's vanilla. Warm.And sweet. And comforting. Like something baking.Or clean linen. Or a cedar forest. Like rain on warm pavement.Whatever scent brings you comfort. It's here now. Filling the room.And in the center of this room, there's a chair now. A big, comfortable armchair. The kind you sink into.Soft upholstery. It knows how to hold you. You sit down in it. And let it take your weight. All of it. Your body.Your tiredness. And as you settle there, you become more aware of this space you're in. The room seemed small before. But that was a bit of an illusion. Because as you look now, you notice the walls are fading slightly at the edges. And beyond them, stretching out in every direction, there are other rooms.Thousands. Millions. Each one holding a person sitting alone with their thoughts.As alone as you feel right now. As unique as your pain feels. There are a million people out there having, if not the same day, a very similar one.Pain is part of the human experience. Sadness. Regret.Disappointment. They're all part of every life. Every single person.No matter how rich. Or beautiful. Or clever.Or successful. Is going to have bad days. All these emotions we'd like to avoid. But can't. You feel alone in your feelings. But you're not.You're just human. Those muffled sounds you heard earlier. The ones coming from beyond the walls. They're getting clearer. You can hear them better now. Laughter.Real laughter. Music. Playing.Not background music. The kind you turn up loud and sing along to badly. Because no one's listening.The sound of a screen door slamming in the summer. Kids running through a sprinkler. The weight of a dog's head in your lap. Bare feet on warm sand. The shock of good news. Relief washing over you. The smell of rain after a long dry spell. The way light looks coming through trees. A stranger being unexpectedly kind.The moment you realize you feel okay again. All of that is happening right now. Outside your dark room. In the sunshine. Real moments of real joy. Being experienced by real people. And you will be in those moments again too. Life is movement. Back and forth. From the dark room into the sunshine. And sometimes back into the dark room. And back into the sunshine again.That's normal. You're not stuck here. You're just here right now.And you're so much stronger than you think you are. You've had bad days before. And you have survived.Every single one of them. You're just here right now, and you're so much stronger than you think you are. You've had bad days before, and you have survived every single one of them. You have reserves of strength. You don't always see reserves you don't give yourself credit for, but they're there. You have walked through harder things than this, and you're still here. So rest now, in this comfortable chair, in this warm light, with the scent you love filling the air around you. You're not alone. You're surrounded by millions of people in their own rooms, all doing their best, all finding their way through and beyond the walls. The sunshine is still there. The laughter, the good moments, they'll still be there tomorrow, but for tonight, just rest. Be kind to yourself. Let that chair hold you. Let the warmth surround you. Let your breathing slow, and your body get heavy. Notice, right now, what you have in this moment. You have walls around you, real walls, keeping you safe, keeping the weather out, the cold, the rain, whatever's happening outside. You're protected from it. You have a soft bed beneath you, blankets keeping you warm, and if you're lucky, you live in a place without conflict, a place where the streets are safe. These things are easy to take for granted when you're having a bad day, but there are people right now who would do anything to have what you have, safety, shelter, peace. And how lucky you are to have someone in your life who loves you, even one person. How lucky you are if your body moves without pain. How lucky you are if there's money coming in, a paycheck, work that uses your skills. How lucky you are to be skilled at something, anything, to know how to do a thing well. How lucky you are to be here, to be warm, to be safe, to be part of this crazy, beautiful, complicated mess that life sometimes is, the good and the bad, the bitter and the sweet, all of it. Breathe slowly now. Let each breath fill you and then leave you. Let your eyes stay closed. They're too heavy to open now anyway. Whatever happened today, it's just one page in a very long book. Maybe it's a page you wish you could tear out and throw away, but it's one page. There are pages before this one that were beautiful, and there will be pages after this one, too. Some will be ordinary. Some will surprise you. Some will be so good, you'll want to read them over and over. This page you're on right now, this hard day, it's part of your story, but it's not the whole story. It's not even the end of the chapter. Tomorrow, you turn the page, and the story continues. Let every muscle in your body feel heavy, loose, completely relaxed, your arms, your legs, your face, your jaw, everything's soft and still. Sleep is taking you now. You can feel it pulling you down, gentle and inevitable. And remember, everything looks darker at night. The thoughts feel heavier. The problems feel bigger. The hurt feels deeper. But tomorrow, in the light of day, everything may feel very different. You will be okay. You've always been okay. Sleep now. Sleep deeply. Sleep well.