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. The clock reads 2:03 a.m., and I am wide awake without cause—that specific state where the physical body is exhausted but the mind is busy calculating. The fan’s on low, clicking every few seconds like it’s reminding me time exists. My ankle is tight; I move it, then catch myself moving, then start a mental debate about whether that movement "counts" against my stillness.
The Map is Not the Territory
Bhante Sujiva drifts into my thoughts when I start mentally scanning myself for signs. Progress of insight. Vipassanā ñāṇas. Stages. Maps.
These concepts form an internal checklist that I feel an unearned obligation to fulfill. I claim to be beyond "stage-chasing," yet minutes later I am evaluating a sensation as a potential milestone.
Earlier in the sit there was this brief clarity. Very brief. Sensations sharp, fast, almost flickering. My mind immediately jumped in like, "oh, this could be that stage." Or at least close. Maybe adjacent. The internal play-by-play broke the flow, or perhaps I am simply overthinking the interruption. Reality becomes elusive the moment the internal dialogue begins.
The Pokémon Cards of the Dhamma
My chest feels tight now. Not anxiety exactly. More like anticipation that went nowhere. My breathing is irregular, with a brief inhalation followed by a protracted exhalation, but I refuse to manipulate it. I’m tired of adjusting things tonight. The mind keeps looping through phrases I’ve read, heard, underlined.
Knowledge of arising and passing.
Dissolution.
The Dukkha-ñāṇas: Fear, Misery, and the urge to escape.
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
Bhante Sujiva’s clarity is what gets me. The way he lays things out so cleanly. It’s helpful. And dangerous. It is beneficial as it provides a vocabulary for the wordless. It becomes a problem when every mental flicker is subjected to a "pass/fail" test. Is this insight or just restlessness? Is this boredom or equanimity-lite? I feel ridiculous thinking this way and also unable to stop.
My right knee aches again. Same spot as yesterday. I focus on it. Heat. Pressure. Throbbing. Then the thought pops up: pain stage? Dark night? I almost laugh. Out loud, but quietly. The body doesn’t care what stage it’s in. It just hurts. The laughter provides a temporary release, before the internal auditor starts questioning the "equanimity" of the laugh.
The Exhaustion of the Report Card
I remember his words about the danger of clinging to the stages and the importance of natural progression. It sounds perfectly logical in theory. Yet, in the solitude of the night, I instinctively begin to evaluate myself with a hidden yardstick. Old habits die hard. Especially the ones that feel spiritual.
There’s a hum in my ears. Always there if I listen. I listen. Then I think, "oh, noticing subtle sound, that’s a sign of sensitivity increasing." I am sick of my own internal grading system; I just want to be present without the "report card."
The fan continues its rhythm. My foot becomes numb, then begins to tingle. I remain still—or at least I intend to. Part of me is already planning when I’ll move. I notice that planning. I don’t label 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. The maps were meant to be helpful guides, not 2 a.m. interrogation tools, but I am using them for the latter anyway.
I don’t reach clarity tonight. I don’t place myself anywhere on the map. The sensations keep changing. The thoughts keep get more info checking. The body keeps sitting. Somewhere under all that, there’s still awareness happening, imperfect, tangled up with doubt and wanting and comparison. I remain present with this reality, not as a "milestone," but because it is the only truth I have, regardless of the map.