Why Sleep Wonβt Come: The Hidden Trap of Active Waiting
A week ago, a student shared something with me that comes up regularly. He had come a long way in leaving the insomnia struggle in all regards except one: he wasn’t sleeping more.
He was no longer worried or anxious. He wasn’t taking supplements, listening to meditation tapes, or trying to force sleep in any way. He was no longer limiting his days, and was living a rich, fulfilling life.
The reason his nights were still unsettled? As surprising as it may sound, waiting for sleep to return can become the reason it doesn’t.
It all comes down to intent.
Less worry, living freely, and stepping away from efforts to control what can’t be controlled—these are wonderful shifts on their own. They’re deeply meaningful. But here’s the tricky part:
When we hear stories of someone who learned, practiced courage, let go of struggle, and then naturally found themselves sleeping more, it can accidentally create the impression that we’ve discovered a prescription for sleep:
Worry less. Live more. Drop efforts. Then sleep will happen.
So when all those boxes have been checked—when we believe the “prescription” is complete—we start waiting for sleep to kick in.
This is when the waiting game begins.
We’ve fulfilled all the requirements, and now we anticipate that sleep should follow. We watch. We monitor. We quietly hope. We wait.
But sleep has such a passive nature that the very act of waiting—of anticipating its arrival—creates a level of arousal that keeps us awake.
This can be confusing. We aren’t struggling. We aren’t fearful. We aren’t trying to control sleep. We’ve done everything “right.” So why aren’t we sleeping more? Are we a unique case after all?
No. We’re just actively waiting.
Which brings us to a subtle but important point: “waiting” can mean two very different things.
Sometimes students say that after they stopped worrying and left the struggle, they just “waited,” and eventually sleep followed. But in those moments, “waiting” simply meant that time passed. They were just living—doing things that were important to them, showing up for their days, and letting life move forward naturally. There was no tracking, no prediction, no expectation.
Active waiting, on the other hand—keeping an eye on the clock, monitoring how long it’s been, trying to forecast when sleep will return—that is the waiting game. And that is what keeps sleep at arm’s length.
And, as so often happens in this world, simply understanding what has been happening can lead to change.
When we see the value of being less worried and living freely for its own sake—not as a strategy to make sleep happen—we naturally stop watching for sleep. We stop checking the timeline. We stop anticipating.
And we start living.
Just living. Doing things that are important to us. And here’s the beautiful part: you are no longer waiting when you are busy living your life—meeting friends, pursuing hobbies, being with your family, creating, and doing the things that matter deeply to you.
In that space, there is no monitoring. No timeline. No waiting. And when the waiting game ends, peaceful sleep begins to find its way back on its own.
