Why rumination keeps us awake – and how we can sink into the vastness
Imagine your mind during the day as a well-lit control room. Everywhere, displays are blinking, diagrams are being updated, decisions are being made, goals are being pursued. Everything runs at full capacity so you can "function": analyze, evaluate, plan.
But when you want to sleep, it's no longer about functioning. Then something else is needed: the slow, quiet extinguishing of this busyness. Falling asleep is not doing – but stopping the doing. And that's exactly what many find so difficult.
The Spotlight and the Wide Field
In moments when I lie awake at night, I often notice: My thinking is active. But not in just any way – but in a very specific way. It's goal-oriented, linguistic, judgmental. It wants to understand, solve, prepare. It's the left mind that fixates on a task, like a spotlight on a point.
When I instead step mentally "into the vastness" – when I stop holding onto a particular thought and simply perceive the quiet landscape within me – then something else often happens: Sleep comes by itself. No having-to, no wanting – but a very gentle letting go.
Two Ways of Seeing – Two Ways of Being
British psychiatrist Iain McGilchrist describes in his books (The Master and His Emissary, The Matter with Things) two different ways our brain experiences the world: The left hemisphere analyzes, dissects, focuses. It loves language, categories, control. The right, however, perceives the world as a whole – open, contextual, present. It sees connections, not just things.
These two perspectives need each other. But in our modern culture, the left mode often dominates. And it follows us into bed: The inner manager wants to know if we're sleeping yet. The problem-solver thinks about tomorrow. The critic comments on why we haven't fallen asleep yet.
But sleep doesn't belong to the manager. It belongs to the garden in moonlight – not the bright lecture stage.
The Science Behind It: Being Awake Is Hard Work
Neuroscientifically, we know today: Waking consciousness is a cognitive construction that must be continuously maintained. Our brain builds a model of the world in real-time – compares expectations with perceptions, estimates probabilities, corrects errors. This model needs energy – a lot of it: About 20% of our daily energy we spend alone to maintain a coherent self- and world-image in the waking state.
The brain works according to the principle of prediction: It predicts what will happen next – and constantly searches for deviations to improve its model. This process is highly dynamic – and it can't simply be "switched off". This is one of the reasons why many people fail at falling asleep: They try to let go with the same mental tool they use to control during the day.
But this tool – the left hemisphere – isn't particularly good at letting go. It seeks certainty, goals, solutions. Sleep, however, demands exactly the opposite: allowing uncertainty. Giving up control. Trusting the moment.
Falling Asleep Is: Letting the Construction Wind Down
Let's imagine waking consciousness like an elaborately rendered 3D model. It's continuously updated, provided with light, depth, meaning – every moment anew. When falling asleep, this model begins to fade. Not abruptly, but like a piece of music that echoes away, like a light source that disappears in the distance.
It's not switching off – but a fading away. Not "Now I must sleep", but: "Now I may dissolve."
This letting go is a subtle art. And it begins with an inner change of direction:
- Away from the fixed point – No more mental target, no more "solving problems".
- Toward the vastness – The inner focus is set to wide-angle like a camera.
- Away from language – No more naming, no more commenting.
- Toward sensing – Sounds, body sensations, breath waves. Not analyzing – just receiving.
Image Formulas for the Transition
These inner images help initiate the transition:
- Wide cinema instead of zoom lens
- Candle flame instead of laser point
- Ink drop in water
- Scaffold becomes sand dune
- Standby LED instead of control panel
These images are not techniques, no sleep hack. They are gentle impulses to the mind: You may stop maintaining yourself.
Part 2: Sinking into the Garden
Gentle routines to let go of the wakeful self-model
What follows are not sleep tricks. They are invitations – signposts in the direction sleep falls anyway when you're no longer standing in its way.
1. Wide Cinema
"I no longer watch the film – I become the screen."
- Lie still. Imagine your inner gaze detaching from every point.
- Instead of concentrating on thoughts or sounds, expand your "view" left and right, up and down.
- Imagine you're in the middle of a vast, quiet scene – without action.
- Thoughts? Don't push them away. They're just birds flying through the picture.
2. Letting Echo Away
"I speak the last word – and then the echo begins."
- Say the word one internally.
- Whisper it only in thoughts – like a sound that dissolves.
- Repeat. Always quieter. Always less.
- Eventually even the echo disappears.
3. Scaffold to Sand
"I am no longer built – I am about to crumble."
- Feel your body like a structure – with contour, tension, posture.
- With each exhale, a part of it trickles to sand.
- Start with your feet. Let everything gradually transform into soft material.
- Don't shape – just let it happen.
How to Practice – Without Practicing
- Practice during the day when you don't need to sleep: on the train, in the park, on the sofa.
- Take 1–2 images that particularly appeal to you – and return to them again and again.
- When you wake up at night: Don't make a method of it. Just let yourself sink into the image.
Final Thought
Next time you can't fall asleep, don't try to sleep.
Don't try not to think either.
Don't try anything at all.
Imagine you're in a garden in moonlight.
The wind is warm. The sounds are soft. The stage is empty.
And you – may simply disappear now.