“It’s a very real problem for me now,” I said to Dave, looking at his face on the screen. “I wish I really believed that you can make it better.”
We were randomly paired on Zoom during class, me and Dave. Our tutor gave us an assignment: ask your partner what issue they want to work on, gather all the information you need, and write a script tailored just for them.
I told Dave about my mornings.
At the time, I was struggling: every morning before nursery felt like walking into battle. My toddler would resist in every way imaginable: crying, screaming, refusing to get dressed, refusing to leave the house. I never knew what version of him I’d meet. That sense of unpredictability… it filled me with dread from the very moment I opened my eyes. There was a rising wave of anxiety that felt like it would spill over before the day even began.
Dave listened quietly, kindly. Then he read the script he’d written for me.
In it, he guided me to imagine a room in my mind. A calm, quiet space that only I had the key to. A place I could return to whenever I needed—where peace waited for me. Where I could remember that I was capable. That I could handle whatever came.
I never go deep into trance, not in the way I imagined it. My mind is always busy, thoughts popping up like annoying bubbles. But I listened with curiosity.
And then… we moved on. Class ended. I carried on with my week.
It wasn’t until a few days later that I noticed it: I wasn’t anxious anymore.
I wasn’t waking up tense, bracing for what the morning might bring. I felt light. Strong. Calm.
And here’s the part that felt like magic: my toddler started changing too. Mornings softened. We stopped clashing. There was more ease, more laughter, more presence.
And all of it began with that unexpected Zoom pairing, a simple assignment, and one fellow student who wrote a script that helped me find the key back to myself.
Looking back, that moment became a kind of aha for me. We so often need proof before we allow ourselves to truly believe that something works—especially when it feels this gentle, this invisible. But the shift I experienced wasn’t subtle; it was undeniable. That single session showed me, not in theory but in lived experience, just how powerful we can be when we know how to reach our subconscious mind.