Hypnosis Spoken Word: The Hypnotic Experience

Audio Version

The Hypnotic Experience

I take a moment to find a comfortable position, a place where I can truly rest and let go. My chair reclines beneath me; my feet settle onto the floor. It is now easy to relax. I find the perfect spot, lean my head back, and begin to settle in. Far away, the faint murmur of a television blends with the soft rhythm of a dryer spinning in the background. The sounds fade, like distant clouds drifting out of sight…

I’m moving toward my own center now — a white beam of light streams down gently, radiating calm, encouraging every part of me to soften and release.

I inhale deeply and exhale slowly, feeling the air leave my lips like a soft breeze. My mind hums with the faint vibration of technology, but I let it drift away like dust in sunlight. I follow a winding inner path, past rolling green fields and iron-red stones lining the edges. Up ahead, a beautiful dwelling appears — a sanctuary that exists only for me.

I open the door. The furnishings are oversized and welcoming. A quiet fireplace glows on the right, large couches circling it like gentle guardians. Beyond lies a kitchen, a sitting nook where I can put my feet up and breathe freely.

I sink into the chair. Here, without effort, the problem beneath my awareness floats forward — only to become lighter than I imagined, easier to release than I believed. Even before it fully forms, it drifts away, as if it never belonged to me at all. I don’t have to think about it. I don’t have to take sides. I turn down the marketing noise of my mind and turn up the music within. My phone’s message — “Where have you gone?” — fades into silence.

My neck muscles let go. My shoulders follow. My upper back loosens under the slow tide of breath, as if each exhale were a rolling pin smoothing stress away. Invisible cords of expectation unplug and dissolve. I am free.

The texture of the chair’s arm grounds me through my fingertips. For now, I don’t have to do anything. Everyone else is far away, and their games, their urgencies, drift out of reach. My life is not a football match. I am not a ball to be thrown. I step out of the game entirely.

I walk out onto the porch, down to the lake, and wade into its clear waters. I float on the surface, held by something larger than myself. On the shore, a lion watches quietly. Across the lake, a bear observes. A dog nearby accepts my presence. A crow above glints its black eye at me. They all feel like kin — like fragments of my own spirit. In their own languages, they offer warm and loving suggestions, and I listen deeply.

Their breath stirs ripples across the water, moving toward me in effortless waves. Each ripple carries energy, wisdom, and love, brushing over my skin like a blessing. My toes rise and float. All the cords of expectation melt away, sinking into the earth below. The energy returns to where it came from, no longer mine to hold.

I will let them have their games. I will listen instead to the Spirits — the Bear, the River, the Eagle — who gather with their ancient ways, resolving what needs to be resolved so all may prosper.

I rise from the water and rest on the shore, centered and calm. The stars appear above, one by one. I see spirits protecting all of us, showing how to pull away the cords — as easily as picking flowers from the earth — and to let the clump of mud fall away.

And in this moment, I realize:
I am free.
I am whole.
I am wiser, healthier, and more peaceful than I have ever been.
Everything I do now flows from this tranquil, luminous center.