The figure of Bhante Sujiva and the technical stages of Vipassanā often loom over my practice, turning a moment of awareness into a secret search for achievement. It is just past 2 a.m., and I am caught in that restless wakefulness where the body craves sleep but the consciousness is preoccupied with an internal census. The fan hums on its lowest setting, its repetitive click marking the time in the silence. My left ankle feels stiff. I rotate it without thinking. Then I realize I moved. Then I wonder if that mattered. That’s how tonight’s going.
The Map is Not the Territory
The image of Bhante Sujiva surfaces the moment I begin searching for physical or mental indicators of "progress." Progress of insight. Vipassanā ñāṇas. Stages. Maps.
All those words line up in my head like a checklist I never officially agreed to but somehow feel responsible for completing. I tell myself I’m not chasing stages. Then five minutes later I’m like, "okay but that felt like something, right?"
I experienced a momentary window of clarity—extremely short-lived—where sensations felt distinct, rapid, and vibrating. Instantly, the mind intervened, trying to categorize the experience as a specific insight stage or something near it. The narrative destroyed the presence immediately—or perhaps the narrative is the drama I'm creating. Reality becomes elusive the moment the internal dialogue begins.
The Pokémon Cards of the Dhamma
I feel a constriction in my chest—not quite anxiety, but a sense of unfulfilled expectation. I notice my breathing is uneven. Short inhale, longer exhale. I don’t adjust it. I have lost the will to micro-manage my experience this evening. I find myself repeating technical terms I've studied and underlined in books.
The stage of Arising and Passing.
Dissolution.
The "Dark Night" stages of Fear and Misery.
These labels feel like a collection of items rather than a lived reality—like I'm gathering cards rather than just being here.
The Dangerous Precision of Bhante Sujiva
I am struck by Bhante Sujiva’s precise explanations; they are simultaneously a guide and a trap. Helpful because it gives language to experience. It becomes a problem when every mental flicker is subjected to a "pass/fail" test. I am constantly asking: "Is this genuine wisdom or mere agitation? Is this true balance or just a lack of interest?" I am aware of how ridiculous this "spiritual accounting" is, but the habit persists.
The pain in my right knee has returned in the exact same location. I direct my attention there. I note the somatic data, but then the mind asks: "Is this the 'Fear' stage? Is this 'Misery'?" I find a moment of humor in the fact that the body doesn't read the maps; it just feels the ache. For a brief moment, that humor creates space, until the mind returns to scrutinize the laughter itself.
The Exhaustion of the Report Card
I remember his click here words about the danger of clinging to the stages and the importance of natural progression. I agree with the concept intellectually. But here I am, in the dark, using an invisible ruler to see "how far" I've gone. Old habits die hard. Especially the ones that feel spiritual.
I focus on the subtle ringing in my ears and instantly think: "My concentration must be getting sharper." I am sick of my own internal grading system; I just want to be present without the "report card."
The fan clicks again. My foot tingles. Pins and needles creep up slowly. I stay. Or I think I stay. I see the mind already plotting the "exit strategy" from the pain, but I don't apply a technical note to it. I am refusing to use technical notes this evening; they feel like an unnecessary weight.
The Vipassanā Ñāṇas offer both a sense of direction and a sense of pressure. It is like having a map that tells you exactly how much further you have to travel. I doubt Bhante Sujiva intended for these teachings to become a source of late-night self-criticism, yet that is my reality.
I don’t reach clarity tonight. I don’t place myself anywhere on the map. The sensations keep changing. The thoughts keep checking. The body keeps sitting. Deep down, there is just simple awareness, however messy and full of comparison it might be. I stay with that, not because it feels advanced, but because it’s what’s actually here, right now, no matter what stage I wish it was.