I find myself resonating with Bhante Nyanaramsi during those hours when the allure of quick fixes is strong, yet I know deep down that only sustained effort is genuine. I am reflecting on Bhante Nyanaramsi tonight because I am exhausted by the charade of seeking rapid progress. I don’t. Or maybe I do sometimes, but those moments feel thin, like sugar highs that crash fast. What actually sticks, what keeps pulling me back to the cushion even when everything in me wants to lie down instead, is this quiet sense of commitment that doesn’t ask for applause. That is the space he occupies in my thoughts.
The Reality of the 2 A.M. Sit
The time is roughly 2:10 a.m., and the air is heavy and humid. I can feel my shirt sticking to my skin uncomfortably. I shift slightly, then immediately judge myself for shifting. Then notice the judgment. Same old loop. The mind’s not dramatic tonight, just stubborn. Like it’s saying, "yeah yeah, we’ve done this before, what else you got?" Frankly, this is where superficial motivation disappears. There is no pep talk capable of bridging this gap.
The Phase Beyond Excitement
Bhante Nyanaramsi represents a stage of development where the need for "spiritual excitement" begins to fade. 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’s the type of practice you don't boast about because there are no trophies—only the act of continuing.
Today, I was aimlessly searching for meditation-related content, partly for a boost and partly to confirm I'm on the right track. Ten minutes in, I felt emptier than when I started. That’s been happening more lately. The further I go on this path, the less I can stand the chatter that usually surrounds it. Bhante Nyanaramsi seems to resonate with people who’ve crossed that line, who aren’t experimenting anymore, who know this isn’t a phase.
Showing Up Without Negotiation
My knees feel warm, and a dull ache ebbs and flows like the tide. My breathing is constant but not deep. I refrain from manipulating the breath; at this point, any exertion feels like a step backward. Serious practice isn’t about intensity all the time. It’s about showing up without negotiating every detail. That is a difficult task—far more demanding than performing a spectacular feat for a limited time.
There’s also this honesty in long-term practice that’s uncomfortable. You witness the persistence of old habits and impurities; they don't go away, they are just seen more clearly. He does not strike me as someone who markets a scheduled route to transcendence. He appears to understand that the path is often boring and difficult, yet he treats it as a task read more to be completed without grumbling.
Finding the Middle Ground
I realize my jaw’s clenched again. I let it loosen. The mind immediately jumps in with commentary. Of course it does. I don’t chase it. I don’t shut it up either. There’s a middle ground here that only becomes visible after years of messing this up. That middle ground feels very much in line with how I imagine Bhante Nyanaramsi teaches. Equanimous. Realistic. Solid.
Serious practitioners don’t need hype. They need something reliable. A practice that survives when the desire to continue vanishes and doubt takes its place. That is the core of his appeal: not charisma, but the stability of the method. A system that does not break down when faced with boredom or physical tiredness.
I remain present—still on the cushion, still prone to distraction, yet still dedicated. The night moves slowly. The body adjusts. The mind keeps doing its thing. 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, to accept that this path unfolds at its own pace, whether I like it or not. Tonight, that is enough to keep me here, just breathing and watching, without demanding a result.