- What Are Sufism and Buddhism, Exactly?
- The Historical Roots: Two Deserts, Two Maps
- What Each Tradition Believes about the Ultimate
- The Practices: Dhikr, Sama, and Zazen
- The Symbolism of the Beloved and the Mirror
- What Gets Confused: Common Misconceptions
- Notable Figures Who Bridged the Gap
- The Same Door, Different Keys
A room where bodies turn in slow circles, breath synchronized, the name of God passing through the lungs like a current. Another room where bodies sit on black cushions, spines straight, eyes half-closed, watching the mind without grabbing it. Both are looking for the same door. The maps differ. Sufism and Buddhism are two mystical traditions that seek direct experience of ultimate reality, one through loving annihilation in a personal God, the other through the disciplined realization of emptiness and no-self.
What Are Sufism and Buddhism, Exactly?

Sufism is the esoteric dimension of Islam, emerging in the 8th and 9th centuries CE among ascetics in the Arabian desert and Persian cities. Its central practice is the purification of the heart to allow direct knowledge of God (Allah) through love, not law. The practitioner seeks fana — annihilation of the self in the divine presence, followed by baqa — subsistence in that union.
Buddhism begins in the 5th century BCE with Siddhartha Gautama, the historical Buddha, in northeastern India. It is a non-theistic path that diagnoses suffering as caused by craving and ignorance, and prescribes an eightfold training to liberate the mind from the cycle of rebirth. The ultimate goal is nirvana, the extinguishing of the fires of desire, aversion, and delusion.
Both are experiential, not doctrinal. Both insist that truth must be tasted, not recited. But the taste is not the same.
The Historical Roots: Two Deserts, Two Maps

The earliest Sufis were Muslims who read the Qur’an as a fabric of mystical signs. The “people of the bench” (ahl al-suffa) in Medina, poor companions of the Prophet who slept in the mosque porch, are often cited as prototypes. The first named Sufi, the Iranian ascetic Abu Hashim al-Kufi (d. 767 CE), gave the movement its name, but the core crystallized later with figures like Bayazid Bastami (d. 874) and al-Hallaj (d. 922), the latter executed for saying “I am the Truth” (Ana al-Haqq).
Buddhism arose in a different landscape. The Buddha left his palace in 534 BCE and sat under a pipal tree in Bodh Gaya. He taught that the self (atman) is an illusion, that nothing is permanent, and that the only reliable refuge is the Dharma, the teaching itself. The tradition split into Theravada (the “Way of the Elders”) and Mahayana (the “Great Vehicle”) around the first century BCE, with Mahayana developing the Bodhisattva ideal, one who postpones nirvana to help others.
Sufism and Buddhism did not meet directly for centuries. The first sustained encounter happened in the 13th century, when Mongols brought Tibetan Buddhism into Persia, and later through the Mughal court in India, where Emperor Akbar (r. 1556–1605) hosted debates between Sufi sheikhs and Buddhist monks. But the deeper parallels were noticed by Western scholars only in the 19th century, when translations of Rumi and the Upanishads appeared in the same bookshops.
What Each Tradition Believes about the Ultimate
Sufism is emphatically theistic. The Reality (al-Haqq) is a personal, loving God who creates the universe as a mirror for divine attributes. The famous formulation of Ibn Arabi (1165–1240), Wahdat al-Wujud (Unity of Being), is not pantheism but a claim that only God truly exists; the world is a self-disclosure of the One. The Sufi’s task is to polish the heart until it reflects the Beloved perfectly.
Buddhism, in its earliest forms, has no creator God. The ultimate is sunyata, emptiness, the absence of inherent existence in all phenomena. This is not a void but a radical interdependence: things are real only as they are causes and conditions. The Buddha famously refused to answer questions about a creator, calling them “a thicket of views.”
Here is the divergence: the Sufi moves toward a Person who is everything. The Buddhist moves toward a condition that is no-thing.
The Practices: Dhikr, Sama, and Zazen
Sufi practice centers on dhikr, remembrance of God through repetition of divine names, often with breath control and body movements. The sama (audition) ceremony, especially in the Mevlevi order founded by Rumi’s followers in 1273, uses music and the whirling rotation of the dervish to induce ecstatic states. The right hand opens to receive divine grace, the left hand turns to pour it into the world. The vortex is a prayer.
Buddhist meditation is quieter. In the Theravada tradition, vipassana (insight) uses the breath as an anchor to observe the arising and passing of sensations. In Zen (a Japanese development of Chan Buddhism, 6th century CE), zazen is sitting without acquiring anything, just sitting, letting thought dissolve like mist. The goal is not ecstasy but clarity.
Both use the body as a tool. The Sufi spins until the ego drops. The Zen student sits until the self is seen through. Both are doing the same kind of work: undoing the knot of “I.”
The Symbolism of the Beloved and the Mirror
Sufi poetry is saturated with the language of love. Rumi’s “The lover and the Beloved are one, and union is the dissolution of the lover” is not a metaphor. It is a description of fana. The wine, the tavern, the drunkenness, all are code for the loss of conceptual boundaries. Persia’s Hafez (d. 1390) wrote ghazals that could be read as either erotic or divine, and the best readers knew they were the same.
Buddhist symbolism is colder. The lotus rises from the mud, representing purity emerging from attachment. The mirror is the mind, and the goal is to polish it until it reflects without distortion, but there is no one looking. The Tibetan Book of the Dead (Bardo Thodol, 8th century CE) describes the after-death state as a series of peaceful and wrathful deities, which are projections of one’s own mind. There is no external judge.
The Sufi sees the Beloved everywhere. The Buddhist sees that everywhere is empty of a self that could be loved.
What Gets Confused: Common Misconceptions
Misconception 1: Sufism is not really Islamic. It is. The vast majority of classical Sufis, from al-Ghazali (d. 1111) to Rumi, were orthodox Muslims who prayed five times and fasted Ramadan. The ecstatic sayings of al-Hallaj got him killed, but his poetry was kept by the tradition.
Misconception 2: Buddhism is atheistic. It is non-theistic, not atheistic. The Buddha did not deny gods; he said they were irrelevant to liberation. Many Buddhist traditions, especially in Tibet and East Asia, have elaborate pantheons of deities who are not creators but helpers.
Misconception 3: The two traditions are secretly the same. They are not. The Sufi’s ultimate goal is union with a personal God, while the Buddhist’s goal is the cessation of the illusion of self. A Sufi who says “I am the Truth” is identifying with the One. A Buddhist who says “I am not” is pointing to a deeper emptiness. The words sound similar, but the direction is opposite.
Notable Figures Who Bridged the Gap
Idries Shah (1924–1996) wrote extensively on Sufi teaching stories and compared them to Zen koans. His book The Sufis (1964) argued that the Sufi tradition had influenced Western mysticism through the Knights Templar and the troubadours.
D.T. Suzuki (1870–1966) brought Zen to the West and noted parallels with the Christian mystics, including some Sufis. He saw the sudden realization of satori as akin to fana.
Jalal al-Din Rumi (1207–1273) never met a Buddhist, but his poetry on extinction of the self has been read by Buddhists as a description of anatta (no-self). The reading is generous but not entirely wrong: Rumi wrote, “Die before you die,” which is a Buddhist line if ever there was one.
FAQ
Is Sufism the same as Islamic mysticism? Yes, but “Sufi” is the preferred term. The word derives from suf (wool), referring to the simple woolen robes of early ascetics.
Do Buddhists believe in a soul? No. The doctrine of anatta (no-self) is a cornerstone. What appears to be a self is a pattern of five aggregates (skandhas): form, sensation, perception, mental formations, and consciousness.
Can a Sufi practice Buddhist meditation? Some modern Sufi teachers have adapted meditation techniques, but classical Sufi practice is tied to the Qur’an and Islamic prayer. Mixing traditions is debated.
Why do both traditions use poetry? Because both hold that direct experience cannot be captured in prose. Poetry works through the gaps in logic, where lightning strikes.
The Same Door, Different Keys
Sufism and Buddhism are not the same. But they ask the same question: what is left when you strip away everything you think you are? The Sufi answers: only God. The Buddhist answers: only the suchness of the moment. Both are trying to live in that answer. One spins. One sits. The door is the same.
For more on how mystical traditions approach the ineffable, see our guide to esoteric traditions. The concept of fana (annihilation) appears across multiple traditions. You might also explore Buddhist tantra for a different angle on embodiment and emptiness.
