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. The reason Bhante Nyanaramsi is on my mind this evening is that I have lost the energy to pretend I am looking for immediate breakthroughs. 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 Reality of the 2 A.M. Sit
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. 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 Uncluttered Mind of the Serious Yogi
To me, Bhante Nyanaramsi is synonymous with that part of the path where you no longer crave emotional highs. Or at least you stop trusting it. I’ve read bits of his approach, the emphasis on consistency, restraint, not rushing insight. 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.
A few hours ago, I found myself browsing meditation content, searching for a spark of inspiration or proof that my technique is correct. 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.
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 make no effort to deepen it, as force seems entirely useless at this stage. Serious practice isn’t about intensity all the time. It’s about showing up without negotiating every detail. In reality, that is much more challenging than being "intense" for a brief period.
Long-term practice also brings with it a level of transparency that can be quite difficult to face. You start seeing patterns that don’t magically disappear. Same defilements, same habits, just exposed more clearly. He does not strike me as someone who markets a scheduled route here to transcendence. 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
My jaw is clenched again; I soften it, and my internal critic immediately provides a play-by-play. Naturally. I choose neither to follow the thought nor to fight for its silence. I am finding a middle way that only reveals itself after years of trial and error. That equilibrium seems perfectly consistent with the way I perceive Bhante Nyanaramsi’s guidance. Steady. Unadorned. Constant.
Serious practitioners don’t need hype. They need something reliable. 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 remain present—still on the cushion, still prone to distraction, yet still dedicated. Time passes slowly; my body settles into the posture while my mind continues its internal chatter. 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, and to accept that progress happens in its own time, regardless of my personal desires. For the moment, that is sufficient to keep me seated—simply breathing, observing, and seeking nothing more.