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. In reality, I don't; or if I do, those cravings feel superficial, like a momentary burst of energy that inevitably fails. 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. It is in that specific state of mind that his image surfaces.
The Failure of Short-Term Motivation
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 shift slightly, then immediately judge myself for shifting. Then notice the judgment. Same old loop. There is no drama in my mind, only a dull stubbornness—a voice that says, "We've seen this all before, why continue?" And honestly, that’s when short-term motivation completely fails. No pep talk works here.
The Phase Beyond Excitement
To me, Bhante Nyanaramsi is synonymous with that part of the path where you no longer crave emotional highs. Or at least, you no longer believe in its value. I have encountered fragments of his teaching, specifically his focus on regularity, self-control, and allowing wisdom to mature naturally. It doesn’t feel flashy. It feels long. Decades-long. 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 website right track. Within minutes, I felt a sense of emptiness. I'm noticing this more often as I go deeper. The further I go on this path, the less I can stand the chatter that usually surrounds it. His teaching resonates with practitioners who have accepted that this is not a temporary interest, but a lifelong endeavor.
Intensity vs. Sustained Presence
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. 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 go away, they are just seen more clearly. Bhante Nyanaramsi does not appear to be a teacher who guarantees enlightenment according to a fixed timeline. Instead, he seems to know that the work is repetitive, often tedious, and frequently frustrating—yet fundamentally worth the effort.
The Reference Point of Consistency
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. There is a balance here that one only discovers after failing repeatedly for a long time. This sense of balance feels very much like the "unromantic" approach I associate with Bhante Nyanaramsi. Balanced. Unromantic. Stable.
Those committed to the path do not require excitement; they need a dependable framework. A structure that remains firm when inspiration fails and uncertainty arrives in the dark. That’s what resonates here. Not personality. Not charisma. A system that does not break down when faced with boredom or physical tiredness.
I haven't moved. I am still sitting, still dealing with a busy mind, and still choosing to stay. The night passes at a slow pace, my body finds its own comfort, and my mind continues its usual activity. My connection to Bhante Nyanaramsi isn't based on sentiment. He serves as a benchmark—a reminder that a long-term perspective is necessary, and to trust that the Dhamma reveals itself at its own speed, beyond my control. For the moment, that is sufficient to keep me seated—simply breathing, observing, and seeking nothing more.