Sloth and Torpor: When the Energy Just Isn’t There

Struggling with low energy in your mindfulness classes? Explore how naming "sloth and torpor" can transform a flat room into a space of honest connection and renewed presence.

In the early Buddhist sense, sloth refers to low energy or lack of engagement, and torpor refers to mental dullness or heaviness. Together, they describe a state where the mind is foggy, the body is heavy, and presence feels hard to access.

There was a class I taught where nothing seemed wrong, exactly — and yet nothing seemed alive either. People arrived on time. They sat down. They followed instructions. And the room felt flat, like the air had been let out wholly but slowly. When I invited reflection, responses were short and polite. When we sat in silence, heads dipped, eyes fluttered, and a few people looked like they might actually fall asleep.

Understanding Sloth and Torpor

At first, I did what many of us do. I blamed myself. Maybe the practice was too long. Maybe my voice was too soft. Perhaps I wasn’t engaging enough. But underneath that self-critique was something simpler and more honest: the room was caught in a state of sloth and torpor.

Those are old words, and they can sound harsher than what they’re actually pointing to.

Sloth doesn’t mean laziness. Torpor doesn’t mean lack of care. In the early Buddhist sense, sloth refers to low energy or lack of engagement, and torpor refers to mental dullness or heaviness. Together, they describe a state where the mind is foggy, the body is heavy, and presence feels hard to access.

Why Students Feel "Checked Out"

Students experiencing sloth and torpor often assume they’re failing at mindfulness. They say things like, “I just can’t focus,” or “I feel checked out,” or “I keep drifting.” What they’re really describing is a nervous system that’s overloaded, under-resourced, or simply tired. In many teaching contexts — especially with people under chronic stress — this state is pervasive.

The Power of Naming the Experience

In that class, instead of trying to energize everyone or push through the dullness, I named what I was noticing, not with the words “sloth” or “torpor,” but with simple language. I said something like, “It feels like there’s a lot of heaviness here today. I’m noticing it in myself too.” You could feel the relief in the room immediately. People sat up a bit. Someone laughed. Someone else said, “I thought it was just me.”

That’s often the first doorway out of sloth and torpor: recognition without judgment.

Adjusting Your Teaching Strategy

When students are caught in these states, less is often more. Shorter practices. More emphasis on sensation than concentration. Permission to open the eyes, shift posture, or notice what heaviness actually feels like in the body. Not as a problem to fix, but as an experience to be curious about.

The Teacher's Inner Work

For us as teachers, sloth and torpor can be especially tricky because they don’t look dramatic. We may find ourselves going on autopilot, repeating familiar language, or feeling disconnected from our own curiosity. Teaching while in this state can feel flat, and that can trigger self-doubt or the urge to overcompensate.

What helps most is honesty—checking in with our own energy before and during teaching and noticing when we’re depleted, overwhelmed, or simply human. Sloth and torpor are often signals, not obstacles. They may be telling us that the pace is too fast, that we’re holding too much, or that rest is needed — even in the middle of “doing good work.”

Finding Aliveness in the Heaviness

One thing students learn deeply, even if they can’t articulate it, is how we relate to low energy and dullness. If we treat these states as failures, they will too. If we treat them as normal conditions that arise and pass, students begin to trust their experience rather than fight it.

Sloth and torpor don’t disappear because we push harder. They loosen when there’s enough kindness, clarity, and permission to be exactly where we are.

And sometimes, that’s the most alive moment of practice there is.

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This is part 4 of a 6-part series on the hindrances. Subsequent articles will be published weekly, so check back next week to read a deep dive on Restlessness.

If you are interested in gaining a more comprehensive understanding of meditation, mindfulness, and how to share these practices with others, consider our Mindfulness Teacher Training (MTT).