Put your course online without losing the evening

Have a look at what's already on the shelf beside you.

There's a lever arch file of scripts you've typed and retyped since your first year. There's a hard drive, or a folder on the laptop, with recordings you made properly, on a good day, with the door shut. There's the worksheet you hand out that everybody says is helpful. All of it exists. All of it took time you have already spent. And none of it can reach a single person who isn't sitting in the chair opposite you.

That is the course. Not the raw material for one, the thing itself. The scripts in that file are the lessons, the recording you made on a good day is a lesson, and the worksheet is a lesson. You're not writing a six-week programme. You've been delivering one for years, out loud, in a room. The only job left is putting it somewhere in order.

The thing you'd actually type into a search box at eleven at night is whether you have to be technical to do that. You don't. Not now.

Here's the part a sales page usually leaves out. Getting a six-week programme online is still three or four evenings of work, and most of those evenings go on you writing in your own voice, because nothing else can do that bit. What you're spared is the plumbing. Whether people who start this way finish what they started, I don't know, because nobody here has measured it and I'm not going to invent a figure for you.

What the evening goes on

Half past ten, and the tea went cold around nine.
Half past ten, and the tea went cold around nine.

The last client leaves a little after seven. You tidy the room, wash the mug, and tell yourself tonight's the night.

Forty minutes later you're on a page that wants you to choose a theme, and you don't know what a theme is or whether the choice matters. Then something wants updating and warns you that other things might stop working if you let it. Then the recording of session one won't upload, because it's too big, and the help article explaining why was written for somebody who already knows what the words mean. At half past ten you close the laptop. Nothing has been made. The tea went cold around nine, and you didn't notice until you picked it up.

You've done this before. Not once. Four times, maybe six, over a couple of years, and each time it ends in the same place, and each time you put a little more of the blame on yourself.

Nothing in your training was about file formats

Two years of recordings. Nobody can get to any of them.
Two years of recordings. Nobody can get to any of them.

You're good at what you trained for. You can sit with somebody who walked in white-knuckled and have them settled inside ten minutes. Most people can't do that, and no software has ever helped anybody do it.

There is no reason your training should have covered video encoding.

The tools you've been fighting were mostly built for people who already know the words, by people who already know the words. When you can't get through one, what that tells you is who it was built for.

An aside, and it has nothing to do with anything. The software world calls what you have "content". I have never once heard a hypnotherapist use that word about their own work. Whoever picked it was thinking about a hard drive.

Four boxes, in plain English

The course builder, filled in. What it is about, how many sections, how many lessons, and who it is for.
The course builder, filled in. What it is about, how many sections, how many lessons, and who it is for.

If the order is what stops you, there's a screen where you say what the course is about, how many sections you want, how many lessons in each, and who it's for. Beginners, or people who already know a bit. Then you press the button and it works while you wait.

That is the whole of what you do. There's no choice in there that can break anything and nothing you can get wrong badly enough to start again.

What comes back, and what it still wants from you

Inside a generated lesson, ready to be rewritten in your voice.
Inside a generated lesson, ready to be rewritten in your voice.

Sections, lessons, titles, and text in every one. A shape, with something in each box, which is a completely different thing to sit in front of than an empty screen.

It won't sound like you. It writes in a flat, general voice, and it doesn't know the two lines you always use or the thing you always say about the drive home. Every lesson opens for editing, and the evening after generating goes on rewriting it in your words. That is far easier than starting from nothing. It is not nothing.

One row of words along the top

The menu along the top. Everything in CourseSpaces sits behind one of these.
The menu along the top. Everything in CourseSpaces sits behind one of these.

Everything lives behind a single menu. Your courses, your clients, your video library, your calendar. No separate website to maintain, no add-on to install, no second account, nothing to keep up to date. When something needs doing, it's behind one of those words.

You aren't learning a system. You're learning where six things are.

Justine Lette runs Hypnosis New Zealand, and before she came to us she was paying over $100 a month for a platform she was using a fraction of. There are 3,670 students on the platform.

What your client opens

What your client sees when they log in. Your name over it, not ours.
What your client sees when they log in. Your name over it, not ours.

They log in and see what you've given them, with your logo and your colours over it. Nothing on that screen tells them which software you pay for, and they don't need to know.

The person who needs this most is often the one who's a bit nervous about the whole idea, and a screen that looks like a piece of business software is one more thing standing between them and the work.

When the software was never the problem

If what stops you is the writing, this won't fix it. Some practitioners aren't blocked by the software at all. They sit down, open a blank lesson, and find they can't decide what goes in it. A first draft on the screen helps with that, but if you've been stuck for two years on what to say rather than how to put it up, the honest answer is that you have a different problem and we are not the solution to it.

If you enjoy the building, this will feel narrow. Some people genuinely like designing their own pages and choosing how everything looks. We've taken most of those decisions away on purpose, and if that's the part you like, this will feel like being handed a smaller box.

If you've already got something working, keep it. A site you're happy with and a way of getting recordings to people that has never let you down beats a tidier arrangement. Replacing a working thing with a different working thing is a week of your life you don't get back.

What you pay

One price. $47 a month, and that is the whole of it.

For that you get unlimited courses and products, up to 1,000 active students, hosted video with 1TB of bandwidth a month, the AI course builder, the AI assistant with 1,500 messages a month, unlimited communities and client chat. No tiers to work out and nothing held back for a bigger plan. Extra video bandwidth is $10 per terabyte if you ever need it.

We take no cut of anything you sell. You connect your own Stripe account and the money arrives with you, less Stripe's own fee of 2.9% plus 30 cents, which everybody pays everywhere. Sell nothing and you owe us $47. Sell a great deal and you owe us $47. There is a 30-day money-back guarantee.

Start with the one you're proudest of

Three weeks ticked off in biro, at the kitchen table.
Three weeks ticked off in biro, at the kitchen table.

There's a 30-day free trial and it doesn't ask for a card.

Don't try to move everything across. Take the recording you're proudest of, put it in as a single lesson, and send it to one person who has already been to see you. That is one evening, and at the end of it there is something made.

Tristan, 19 August 2026