Going to Sleep as a Rehearsal

Every night you lie down, stop holding your life together, and let consciousness go somewhere you cannot follow. You do not know exactly when it happens. You do not resist it; if you did, you would not sleep.

Falling asleep and dying have the same shape. The senses withdraw. The body gets heavy. Thinking thins out and stops, and something continues without it. Jigme Lingpa gave a simple instruction:

Even at night, when you are going to sleep, think: I am dying.

— Jigme Lingpa

We already know how to let go completely, we do it every night, and if we bring a little awareness to it we are rehearsing the one letting-go we will not get to practice twice. Once in a while is enough, and it should be done softly, as a way of falling asleep more peacefully, not as a task.

The practice

1. Lie down as you normally would. Get comfortable. Turn off what needs turning off.
2. Let the breath settle. For a few breaths, rest at the end of each out-breath, without holding.
3. Say to yourself, gently, once: this is what dying is like. Let it be a plain observation, not a threat. The body is getting heavy. The day is being set down. Something is being released.
4. Now do what you do every night anyway: let go. Let the body sink into the bed. Let the concerns of the day go where they go. Do not try to stay awake to watch. Do not try to hurry sleep.
5. As thinking thins out, rest in the simple awareness that is still there. Not a thought about awareness, just the plain fact of being aware, with nothing to do. Let sleep come through that, like a tide coming in over sand.
6. If you are still awake, rest with the breath. Sleep comes when it comes. The practice is in the letting go, not in the sleeping.
7. In the morning, if you remember, notice that you let go entirely and were not harmed. Something continued through the night that did not need you to manage it.

What to expect

Most people find this makes falling asleep easier, not harder, because it gives the mind permission to stop working. Occasionally a moment comes just before sleep where thinking has stopped and awareness is still plainly present, open and calm, with no one doing anything. Nothing needs to be made of it. It is the same awareness that dawns at death, met in a small and ordinary form.

If the phrase “I am dying” stirs up fear rather than ease, leave it out. Use instead: I am letting go now, and I know how to do this. And if you are very ill and sleep is already frightening, skip this practice and simply rest with the breath. Nothing here is meant to make a hard night harder.