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 genuinely remains, the anchor that returns me to the seat when my body begs for sleep, is this quiet sense of commitment that doesn’t ask for applause. That is the space he occupies in my thoughts.
The Loop of Physicality and Judgment
It’s around 2:10 a.m. The air’s a little sticky. My shirt clings to my back in that annoying way. I move just a bit, only to instantly criticize myself for the movement, then realize I am judging. It’s the same repetitive cycle. My mind isn't being theatrical tonight, just resistant. It feels as if it's saying, "I know this routine; is there anything new?" 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 no longer believe in its value. I am familiar with parts of his methodology—the stress on persistence, monastic restraint, and the refusal to force a breakthrough. His path lacks any "glamour"; it feels vast, spanning many years of quiet effort. The kind of thing you don’t brag about because there’s nothing to brag about. You just keep going.
Earlier today, I caught myself scrolling through stuff about meditation, half-looking for inspiration, half-looking for validation that I’m doing it right. 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 speaks to those who have moved past the "experimentation" stage and realize that this is a permanent commitment.
Watching the here Waves of Discomfort
My knees feel warm, and a dull ache ebbs and flows like the tide. My breathing is constant but not deep. 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’s hard. Way harder than doing something extreme for a short burst.
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. Bhante Nyanaramsi doesn’t seem like someone who promises transcendence on a schedule. More like someone who understands that the work is repetitive, sometimes dull, sometimes frustrating, and still worth doing without complaint.
Balanced, Unromantic, and Stable
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. 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. Balanced. Unromantic. Stable.
Authentic yogis don't look for "hype"; they look for something that holds weight. A practice that survives when the desire to continue vanishes and doubt takes its place. That is what is truly valuable—not a charismatic leader or a big personality. 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 passes at a slow pace, my body finds its own comfort, and my mind continues its usual activity. Bhante Nyanaramsi isn’t a figure I cling to emotionally. 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. And for now, that’s enough to stay put, breathing, watching, not asking for anything extra.