Bhante Nyanaramsi makes sense to me on nights when shortcuts sound tempting but long-term practice feels like the only honest option left. 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. Truthfully, I don't—or perhaps I only do in moments of weakness that feel hollow, like a fleeting sugar rush that ends in a crash. What truly endures, the force that draws me back to meditation despite my desire to simply rest, 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 Reality of the 2 A.M. Sit
The time is roughly 2:10 a.m., and the air is heavy and humid. I can feel my shirt sticking to my skin uncomfortably. I adjust my posture, immediately feel a surge of self-criticism, and then note that criticism. It’s the familiar mental loop. There is no drama in my mind, only a dull stubbornness—a voice that says, "We've seen this all before, why continue?" Frankly, this is where superficial motivation disappears. There is no pep talk capable of bridging this gap.
Bhante Nyanaramsi and the Decades-Long Path
Bhante Nyanaramsi represents a stage of development where the need for "spiritual excitement" begins to fade. Or at least, you no longer believe in its value. I’ve read bits of his approach, the emphasis on consistency, restraint, not rushing insight. His path lacks any "glamour"; it feels vast, spanning many years of quiet effort. 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 more serious the practice gets, the less noise I can tolerate around it. Bhante Nyanaramsi speaks to those who have moved past the "experimentation" stage and realize that this is a permanent commitment.
Watching the Waves of Discomfort
My knees are warm now. The ache comes and goes like waves. The breath is steady but shallow. I don’t force it deeper. Forcing feels counterproductive at this point. Serious practice isn’t about intensity all the time. It’s about showing up without negotiating every detail. 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. One begins to perceive mental patterns that refuse to vanish—the same old defilements and habits, now seen with painful clarity. Bhante Nyanaramsi doesn’t seem like someone who promises transcendence on a schedule. 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
I notice my jaw has tightened once more; I release the tension, and my mind instantly begins to narrate the event. Of course it does. I don’t chase it. I here 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. Equanimous. Realistic. Solid.
Serious practitioners don’t need hype. They need something reliable. Something that holds when motivation drops out and doubt creeps in quietly. That is what is truly valuable—not a charismatic leader or a big personality. Just a framework that doesn’t collapse under boredom or fatigue.
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 acts as a steady reference point, confirming that it is acceptable to view the path as a lifelong journey, 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.