Mercury is in retrograde, and I only know that because I have someone in my life who's had a run of things going wrong lately, and she is remarkably calm about the whole thing. She just shrugs and says, well, what can you do? Mercury's in retrograde. I had to look that up.It turns out it's just an illusion. Mercury doesn't really go backwards, but a few times a year, because of the way it and the Earth move around the Sun, it appears to move backwards. And a long time ago, people decided that when Mercury appeared to reverse, things would start to go wrong.There's no science behind it, and there is something nice about having a reason for things going wrong, something outside of yourself to point at. It's not me. It's not you.It's the planets, especially when it's not just one thing. Have you noticed that? It never seems to be one thing at a time. There's a whole cascade of it.One thing goes wrong, and then another, and then three more, until you're standing in the middle of it, wondering what you did to deserve the week you're having. And of course, that's exactly when you need sleep the most, when there's a lot to handle. Instead, sleep becomes almost impossible, because when things go wrong, your mind doesn't want to let them go.It wants to solve the problem, right now, tonight, in the dark. So it circles. It goes over what happened, tense and alert and wide awake, the very opposite of what you need to fall asleep.The more you need the rest, the further away it gets. So that is what tonight is for. I'm going to help you set it all down, just for a while, and find your way to sleep, because things going wrong, it's not a sign that you've failed, or that your life has come off the rails.It's just part of being human. Happens to everyone, retrograde or not. But before we get started, our usual disclaimer.Tonight's episode uses hypnotherapy and relaxation techniques, that are designed to help you sleep. So please ensure that you are somewhere safe, when listening. Preferably your comfortable bed, and not anywhere.You need to stay alert. And just a quick word to my regular listeners, the ones who come back to this podcast night after night. I really love doing this, and I want to keep at it for a long time to come.But to do that, I need some support. In return, I am offering every episode, even the older ones that aren't in the regular feed anymore. Most of them sorted into categories, plus many longer ones. And I put them all in one place. A second feed, just for members of the Snoozeville Sleep Club. It's all in the show notes, if you're curious.And thank you, truly, for considering it. And now, it's time to get you settled. This is the moment to make sure that you are comfortable.That all the lights are off. Any alarms that need to be set for the morning are set. And that your blanket is tucked around you. Your pillows are exactly where you want them. And everything is just right. Let's take a few slow breaths together.When you're ready, breathe in, slowly. And then let it out, even more slowly. And then again, breathe in, and then along, slow breath out.And one more, just like that. Breathe in and out, slow and complete. And then let your breathing settle back into its own slow rhythm.And just lie still, completely still. I'd like you to turn your attention inward, into your own body, the way you almost never do in the middle of a busy day. See if you can find your own heartbeat.It's there, somewhere, quietly keeping time. Maybe you can feel it in your chest, or maybe further out in your wrist, or the side of your neck. You don't have to go looking hard for it.Just go quiet and still. And let it come to you, that steady, faithful beat that's been going all day long, all your life. There it is.Notice, as you lie here quietly, that it's already beginning to slow. And then let your attention drift down, all the way down to your feet. Become aware of them, really aware.The weight of your feet, resting there. The warmth of them. Maybe you can feel a faint pulse in them, or a slight tingling, or just the simple sense of them.Heavy and still. And then move up, slowly through your legs, your ankles, your calves, your knees, and your thighs. And as your attention passes over each part, just check.Is there any tension held there? Just notice it, and let it soften. And let that part grow a little heavier, a little looser, sinking down into the bed. And then up through your hips, and your lower back, and eventually, your chest.Notice the area across your shoulders. Let them drop. And down your arms, all the way to your hands, and your fingers.Heavy now. Loose. And feel your whole body at once.Every part of it, looser than it was a few minutes ago. Heavier. Softer.Your heart is slow and steady. Your breathing is easy. Just your body at rest, growing more and more relaxed with every breath.Now, in a moment, I'm going to take you somewhere. And from here on, all I'd like you to do is listen. Let my voice be the thing you follow.Just let the words carry you along. And if your mind wanders off somewhere, that is perfectly alright. It'll drift back to my voice on its own.There's nothing you can get wrong here. All you have to do is listen. Imagine that you have planned a picnic.And not just for yourself, for the people you love. You invited them weeks ago, and ever since, you've been quietly building the whole thing in your head. Even bought a basket for it.A real one. Wicker. With a lid that folds back in two halves.You saw it, and you thought, that's the one. And you made everything yourself. And you pictured the place for weeks.The park you love by the water. The one with the big trees, and the picnic tables near the shore. Where the ducks come right up to you.You could see it. All of it, before it happened. The blankets spread out.And the food laid between you. Your friends arriving. Everyone happy.And then the day comes, and you get there first. And you set it all out. And for a few minutes, it's exactly what you pictured.The lake shining. Your friends walking up across the grass, waving. But then you feel it. One drop. Pool on your arm. You glance up, and the sky behind the trees has gone dark.Another drop. And then, without any more warning than that, it opens. The rain comes down hard and cold and all at once.And your picnic. The thing you built. Thing you'd been holding in your mind for weeks.Coming apart in front of you in seconds. Rain runs down your face. And everyone is up now.Grabbing what they can. And you catch the look on your friends' faces. That flicker of disappointment.And here comes the thoughts. What kind of person plans an outdoor party for people, and doesn't even check the sky? You wanted this one thing to go well. Just this one thing.You stand there in the pouring rain, soaked through. And nothing is the way it was supposed to be. Stand still for a moment.Right there in the rain. And just breathe. The thing is, rain falls.Not just today. And not just on picnics. Rain falls on everyone.Sooner or later. We just ask so much of our days. We want them to go to plan.Without the hiccups. But a life without any of that was never on offer. Not for you, and not for anyone.A little rain. A little going wrong. Some tension.Trouble and disappointment. That's not the sign of a life that's gone off course. It is simply the price of being here.It just means you're alive. On a planet where it rains. And the people who matter.They know this too. They know you did your best. Because they know you.And they love you for it. Not for the perfect afternoon. For you.The ones who would think less of you over a bit of rain, were never the ones worth pleasing anyway. And you, you're stronger than you're giving yourself credit for tonight. Look at what you've already carried.All the harder things. The ones that felt impossible at the time. But here you still are.You handled them. You'll handle this. But strong as you are.You don't have to be strong every minute. You're allowed to stop for a while. To let yourself be looked after. Even if the only one doing the looking after tonight is you. You've earned a little rest. Gather it up. No hurry. There's nothing left to rush for. And walk back through the rain to your car.And you reach the car. And you open the door. And you climb in. And you close it. And listen. The rain, shut outside now, is drumming softly on the roof just above you.The windows are fogging at the edges. And the world has gone quiet. You start the engine.And the wipers begin their slow sweep back and forth. And the warm air rises from the vents around your cold hands and your wet feet. Chasing the chill out of you.Bit by bit. Warmth inside. Rain outside.And as the warmth reaches you, let something else go with the chill. Because the thing that went wrong today, it's already happened. It's behind you now.And whatever is left of it, whatever still needs doing, that belongs to tomorrow. Tonight, there is nothing you can do about it. And so the turning it over, the going back through it, none of that is helping.It's just a second helping of hurt. On top of the first. So put it down. Just for tonight. And feel how much lighter you are without it. And drive home. And no hurry. The wipers keeping their slow time back and forth. The road shining wet under the streetlights.Everything blurred and soft through the glass. Maybe the radio is on. Low.Some song you half know playing quietly under the sound of the rain. And the ruined afternoon already feeling smaller behind you. Already just becoming a thing that happened on a rainy day.And you come to where you live, your home with its lights on, waiting for you, and you park, and then you're inside, and you close the door behind you, and you close the rain out, and the house wraps around you, warm and dry. Now you get out of those wet clothes, peel them off, all of them cold and damp and clinging, and leave them where they fall. And eventually you run yourself a bath, hot and deep, and you listen to it filling that lovely sound, the steam beginning to rise and fog the room.Then you lower yourself into it slowly, inch by inch, until the hot water closes over you and holds you, and you lie back, and let the heat soak all the way in, into your cold hands, your tired shoulders, and the tightness you've been carrying all day. And listen, you can still hear the rain against the window now, steady and soft, that same rain, the rain that ruined everything a few hours ago. Just listen to it now, it's just weather, doing what weather does, while you lie here warm and safe.Lie there as long as you like, there is all the time in the world. Let the water hold you, and the rain sing you down, and feel the very last of the day's frustration lift off you like steam, and rise, and disappear. And then, when you're ready to bed, warm from the bath in your soft clothes, you climb in, the blankets settling over you with their soft weight, and your legs going heavy, your arms going heavy.And this is the part of the night where a mind likes to go back to work. There's nothing left to distract you, and so the thought may come creeping back, the thought about what went wrong, the mind reaching for it in the dark, wanting to pick it up again. Know that the problem, whatever it is, cannot be solved tonight.It will only keep you awake to face tomorrow, tired and afraid. In the morning, in the daylight, when you are rested, and steadier, and stronger, that is the right time to deal with it. Not now.The night is not for solving things. The night is for rest, and instead, just for now, let yourself notice what you have. You have a bed, a warm, soft, dry bed, and you are in it. You have a roof over you, holding off the rain. You have walls around you, and warmth, and quiet. You are safe, right now, in this room.These are not small things. There are people who would give a great deal for exactly this, a warm, dry place to lie down and close your eyes. You have that. And if there's someone in your life who loves you, even one person, that is a kind of wealth. If there's food in your kitchen for the morning, if your body carried you through this whole day, if there is work to go to, or people who need you, or a small, ordinary life to wake up into, these are things worth having. And it's so easy to stop seeing them, to just see the thing that went wrong.Because often, laying awake at night, the mind takes the single thing that went wrong today, and holds it up close, right in front of your eyes, until it's the only thing you can see. And it quietly forgets the thousand things that went right. Small, quiet things you never think to count.Almost everything, almost all the time, goes right. It's just so quiet about it, that we never notice. One thing goes wrong, and it shouts, and 10,000 things go right, in silence.So let that silence back in now. Let the one loud thing grow quiet with everything else. And listen.The rain. Still falling, soft on the roof above you, at the windows, all around your home. It's just the sound of the world, carrying on outside, while you lie here warm, and dry, and safe.Let the rain fall, and the day be over. Let your body sink a little deeper into the bed. Feel how heavy you've become. Your arms. Your legs. Too heavy now to move, and no reason to move them. You're breathing slow and easy. The blankets warm over you. The pillow soft beneath you. Everything holding you exactly where you are. The house is quiet. And the rain is soft.You made it to the end. What you always do. And now you can let it go. All of it. And simply lie here, warm and safe. And still, while the rain comes down outside. Let your thoughts grow slow. Let them drift. And thin, and quiet.The way the last light thins at the end of the day. You don't need to follow them anywhere. You don't have to hold onto anything at all. Just let your thoughts fade, one by one. Softer, and softer. Breathe in, and out.Your breathing has become so slow and easy. Deeper each time. The rain is falling gentle and steady over a world gone still.And you are warm, and safe, and held. And there's nothing left in all the world to do but sleep.