I find that Bhante Sujiva’s maps and the stages of insight follow me into my meditation, making me feel as though I am constantly auditing my progress rather than simply being present. 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 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." The vocabulary of the path—Vipassanā Ñāṇas, stages, and spiritual maps—fills my head.
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.
For a few seconds, the practice felt clear: sensations were sharp, fast-paced, and almost strobe-like. 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. 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. The mind keeps looping through phrases I’ve read, heard, underlined.
Knowledge of arising and passing.
The experience of Dissolution.
Fear, Misery, and the Desire for Deliverance.
I hate how familiar those labels feel. Like I’m collecting Pokémon cards instead of actually sitting.
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 find myself caught in the trap of evaluating: "Is this an insight more info stage or just a sore back?" I recognize the absurdity of this analytical habit, yet I cannot seem to quit.
My right knee aches again. Same spot as yesterday. I focus on it. Warmth, compression, and pulsing—immediately followed by the thought: "Is this a Dukkha stage? Is this the 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 recall Bhante Sujiva’s advice to avoid attachment to the maps and to allow the path to reveal itself. 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.
I focus on the subtle ringing in my ears and instantly think: "My concentration must be getting sharper." I find my own behavior tiresome; I crave a sit that isn't a performance or a test.
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.
Insight stages feel both comforting and oppressive. It is the comfort of a roadmap combined with the exhaustion of seeing the long road ahead. Bhante Sujiva didn’t put these maps together so people could torture themselves at 2 a.m., but here I am anyway, doing exactly that.
Resolution remains out of reach, and I refuse to categorize my position on the spiritual path. The somatic data fluctuates, the mind continues its audit, and the physical form remains on the cushion. Somewhere under all that, there’s still awareness happening, imperfect, tangled up with doubt and wanting and comparison. I am staying with this imperfect moment, because it is the only thing that is actually real, no matter what stage I'm supposed to be in.