Bhante Nyanaramsi’s example becomes clear to me on nights when I am tempted by spiritual shortcuts but realize that only long-term commitment carries any real integrity. I am reflecting on Bhante Nyanaramsi tonight because I am exhausted by the charade of seeking rapid progress. In reality, I don't; or if I do, those cravings feel superficial, like a momentary burst of energy that inevitably fails. What truly endures, the force that draws me back to meditation despite my desire to simply rest, is a subtle, persistent dedication that seeks no recognition. That is the space he occupies in my thoughts.
The Loop of Physicality and Judgment
It is nearly 2:10 a.m., and the atmosphere is damp. My clothing is damp against my back, a minor but persistent irritation. I adjust my posture, immediately feel a surge of self-criticism, and then note that criticism. It’s the familiar mental loop. There is no drama in my mind, only a dull stubbornness—a voice that says, "We've seen this all before, why continue?" Frankly, this is where superficial motivation disappears. There is no pep talk capable of bridging this gap.
The Phase Beyond Excitement
Bhante Nyanaramsi feels aligned with this phase of practice where you stop needing excitement. Or at least you stop trusting it. I have encountered fragments of his teaching, specifically his focus on regularity, self-control, and allowing wisdom to mature naturally. There is nothing spectacular about it; it feels enduring—a journey measured in decades. It is the sort of life you don't advertise, as there is nothing to show off. You simply persist.
Today, I was aimlessly searching for meditation-related content, partly for a boost and partly to confirm I'm on the right track. Within minutes, I felt a sense of emptiness. I'm noticing this more often as I go deeper. The more serious the practice gets, the less noise I can tolerate around it. His teaching resonates with practitioners who have accepted that this is not a temporary interest, but a lifelong endeavor.
Watching the Waves of Discomfort
I can feel the heat in my knees; the pain arrives and departs in rhythmic waves. My breath is stable, though it remains shallow. I make no effort to deepen it, as force seems entirely useless at this stage. Authentic practice is not always about high intensity; it’s about the willingness to be present without bargaining for comfort. That is a difficult task—far more demanding than performing a spectacular feat for a limited time.
Furthermore, there is a stark, unsettling honesty that emerges in long-term practice. You witness the persistence of old habits and impurities; they don't here go away, they are just seen more clearly. Bhante Nyanaramsi doesn’t seem like someone who promises transcendence on a schedule. He appears to understand that the path is often boring and difficult, yet he treats it as a task to be completed without grumbling.
Finding the Middle Ground
I notice my jaw has tightened once more; I release the tension, and my mind instantly begins to narrate the event. As expected. I neither pursue the thought nor attempt to suppress it. I am finding a middle way that only reveals itself after years of trial and error. That middle ground feels very much in line with how I imagine Bhante Nyanaramsi teaches. Steady. Unadorned. Constant.
Authentic yogis don't look for "hype"; they look for something that holds weight. A structure that remains firm when inspiration fails and uncertainty arrives in the dark. That’s what resonates here. Not personality. Not charisma. Simply a methodology that stands strong despite tedium or exhaustion.
I’m still here. Still sitting. Still distracted. Still committed. The night passes at a slow pace, my body finds its own comfort, and my mind continues its usual activity. I don't have an emotional attachment to the figure of Bhante Nyanaramsi. He’s more like a reference point, a reminder that it’s okay to think long-term, and to trust that the Dhamma reveals itself at its own speed, beyond my control. Tonight, that is enough to keep me here, just breathing and watching, without demanding a result.