Meditation and Sleep: The Art of Letting Go with Buddhist and Hindu Teachings

Insomnia, a Journey to the Self

There was a time when I believed sleep should be an instant, almost mechanical act: close your eyes, switch off your thoughts, and sink into unconsciousness. But sleep, like life, cannot be commanded. It is received. And sometimes, it eludes us. Sleepless nights—those long hours when the body is exhausted but the mind remains wide awake—have become for me open doors to another form of rest: meditation.

I remember those nights when I struggled against my thoughts, when I grew frustrated at not finding sleep, when every awake minute felt like suffering. Then, I discovered the chants of Buddhist monks, mantras, and above all, the power of prolonged meditation. It is not an escape, but an encounter—with myself, with silence, with Cassie, my four-legged companion who, as if by magic, comes to snuggle against me as soon as I sit in the lotus position.

Meditation, a Refuge from Mental Restlessness

Why has meditation become essential for me to sleep?

As a child, I was restless, overwhelmed by an endless stream of thoughts. My mind did not know how to stop. Today, I understand that these thoughts are not my enemies, but messengers. Buddhism teaches that suffering arises from our resistance to what is. By fighting insomnia, I was only feeding my anxiety. But by simply sitting, listening to mantras or sacred chants, I create a space where thoughts can flow without carrying me away. As the Buddha said: "You are the sky; everything else is just weather." Thoughts, emotions, fears—all of it passes, like clouds. Meditation teaches me to no longer identify with this passing, but to observe, to breathe, to be.

Cassie, with her gentle presence and soothing purr, embodies this wisdom. Animals are masters of the present moment. They do not cling to the past, nor do they fear the future. When she approaches me during my sessions, she reminds me that peace is already within me. Buddhist teachings speak of the "beginner’s mind"—the ability to approach each moment with curiosity and openness. Cassie, however, needs no lessons: she is that mind.

Mantras and Chants: An Anchor in the Present

Mantras, those sacred syllables repeated in meditation, are not mere sounds. In Hinduism, the mantra "Om" is considered the primordial sound, the vibration of the universe. Repeating it is to attune oneself to this vibration, to dissolve into something greater than oneself. The chants of Buddhist monks, on the other hand, are prayers, offerings to compassion and wisdom. They create an atmosphere of safety, like a sonic cocoon where the mind can finally settle.

When I meditate with these chants, I sometimes feel dizziness, glimmers of light, sensations of lightness. These are not hallucinations, but signs that my mind, accustomed to racing in all directions, is beginning to calm. The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, a foundational text of yoga, describes these states as "samadhi"—moments when the meditator and the object of meditation become one. These experiences prove to me that my often cluttered mind is capable of liberation.

Breath, the Bridge Between Body and Spirit

Breath is the red thread of my practice. By focusing on it, I reconnect with my body, often neglected in the whirlwind of thoughts. Buddhism emphasizes "right mindfulness" (sati), a total presence with each inhale and exhale. Hinduism speaks of "prana", the vital energy that flows within us. By regulating my breath, I regulate my energy. And Cassie, with her slow and deep breathing, is my best teacher.

When I force myself to sleep, my body tenses, my breath becomes shallow. But when I meditate, everything relaxes. My breath deepens, my heart finds peace. The teachings of the Tao Te Ching say: "He who knows how to breathe knows how to live." I would add: "He who knows how to breathe also knows how to sleep."

Xena, Cassie, and the Transmission of Letting Go

Xena, my childhood dog, slept beside me without ever asking me to be silent. She taught me, without words, how to let go. Today, Cassie continues this lesson. She does not judge my restless nights; she shares them. Animals are beings of pure presence. They do not seek to change what is; they welcome it. Perhaps this is why Buddhist monks and Hindu yogis have always lived in harmony with them: animals remind us of our true nature, beyond mental constructs.

Meditation and Sleep: An Alchemy of Time

It is often said that 20 minutes of deep meditation is equivalent to 3 hours of sleep. I don’t know if this is scientifically proven, but I know it is true for me. These moments when I sit, when I chant, when I breathe, are not wasted time. They are hours in which I regenerate, in which I heal. The Bhagavad Gita, a sacred Hindu text, teaches that "yoga is the art of calming the fluctuations of the mind." By meditating, I am not running from sleep; I am preparing the ground for it to come to me, naturally.

The dizziness, the lights, the strange sensations I sometimes feel are not obstacles, but signs that my mind is purifying. Tibetan Buddhism speaks of "signs of dissolution" in advanced meditation: visions, sensations of warmth or lightness, heralding deep inner transformation. I do not seek these experiences, but I welcome them as gifts.

Accepting Insomnia as an Ally

I no longer endure my thoughts; I work with them. Insomnia is no longer an enemy, but a guest. It pushes me to explore states of consciousness I might never have known otherwise. Zen Buddhism says: "When you are tired, sleep. When you are not, meditate." I no longer fight against sleepless nights. I live them as opportunities for practice, for growth.

And if I "lose" hours of sleep, what does it matter? What I gain in clarity, peace, and connection—with Cassie and with myself—is priceless. As Thich Nhat Hanh said: "Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy." My meditation is that inner smile which, even in darkness, reminds me that everything is impermanent—including insomnia.

Key Teachings for a Peaceful Night

1. Welcome without judgment: Thoughts come and go. Do not fight them; observe them like leaves on a river.
2. Breathe consciously: Breath is your anchor. It always brings you back to the present.
3. Create a ritual: Chants, mantras, the presence of an animal—find what soothes you and make it your refuge.
4. Let go: Sleep will come when it is ready. In the meantime, meditate. Even 10 minutes changes everything.
5. Trust: Your body knows how to sleep. Your mind knows how to calm itself. Let them do their work.

Conclusion: Sleeping in Awareness

I do not know if I will ever sleep like a baby again. But I know that, thanks to meditation, I no longer fear the night. It has become a sacred space, a time when I can reconnect with what is essential. Cassie, mantras, Buddhist and Hindu teachings have taught me that sleep is not an end in itself, but a door—to rest, to consciousness, to peace.

And you, what is your door?