Putting Myself to Sleep

I have had lots on my plate lately . . . and each evening, same story. The familiar tightness makes itself felt, that could keep me up all night. 

Rather than getting even more upset by such unwelcome visitor, I have discovered a new way of being that has made it (relatively) easy to fall into the oblivion of sleep. 

It goes like this . . . 

Lying in bed, I turn my attention to the whole experience of body in repose, pressure in the throat, knot in the stomach, and also breath coming and going at its own pace. Back and forth, between tightness and breath. Embracing the discomfort, meanwhile letting body being breathed. Each breath, a gentle stroke against the fear, and the butterflies swirling inside. Softening, softening, and making room for growing delight. 

Surrendering to the sweetness of breath.

How do you put yourself to sleep?

Other posts on same topic:

When sleep catches awareness

Sleepless in France

Cold Feet in Hong Kong

Hot in Delhi

Not Getting Up, Being Mindful

There is a school of thought that warns to be careful with lying down practice. One can fall asleep, and then that's the end (of the meditation).

This morning, I decided to take a chance, and stay in bed a little longer, and do my morning practice right there. Sure, there was sleepiness present from a night cut short and maybe I would doze off? It would be interesting to see.

Lying down, I put my hands on my belly, and watched the ebbs and flows of breath being received, and leaving. Sleepiness, yes, to be recognized. And a host of other phenomena. The sounds of sirens, dogs yapping, neighbors' door slammed, plane passing, . . . Thoughts about work. Suffering from long held constriction in the throat, and the stomach. And back to focusing on the experience of breath caressing the hands, in and out, gently.

Another time, I might have decided to sleep in some more, and bypass morning sitting altogether. Or I would have gone with the brutal awakening of the alarm clock, forcing myself to take place on my seat.

This morning, I discovered another more gentle way to start the day.

Awakening.