I’ve been sitting here tonight thinking about Bhante Gavesi, and his total lack of interest in appearing exceptional. It is interesting to observe that seekers typically come to him loaded with academic frameworks and specific demands from book study —wanting a map, or some grand philosophical system to follow— but he just doesn't give it to them. He’s never seemed interested in being a teacher of theories. Instead, people seem to walk away with something much quieter. It is a sense of confidence in their personal, immediate perception.
There is a level of steadiness in his presence that borders on being confrontational if your mind is tuned to the perpetual hurry of the era. I perceive that he is entirely devoid of the need to seek approval. He just keeps coming back to the most basic instructions: maintain awareness of phenomena in the immediate present. In a world where everyone wants to talk about "stages" of meditation or pursuing mystical experiences for the sake of recognition, his approach feels... disarming. He does not market his path as a promise of theatrical evolution. He simply suggests that lucidity is the result from actually paying attention, honestly and for a long time.
I reflect on those practitioners who have followed his guidance for a long time. There is little talk among them of dramatic or rapid shifts. It is characterized by a slow and steady transformation. Long days of just noting things.
Rising, falling. Walking. Refraining from shunning physical discomfort when it arises, while also not pursuing pleasant states when they occur. It requires a significant amount of khanti (patience). Eventually, I suppose, the mind just stops looking for something "extra" and resides in the reality of things—the truth of anicca. It’s not the kind of progress that makes a lot of noise, yet it is evident in the quiet poise of those who have practiced.
He’s so rooted in that Mahāsi tradition, with its unwavering focus on the persistence of sati. He persistently teaches that paññā is not a product of spontaneous flashes. It is born from the discipline of the path. Commitment to years of exacting and sustained awareness. His own life is a testament to this effort. He didn't go out looking for recognition or trying to build some massive institution. He merely followed the modest road—intensive retreats and a close adherence to actual practice. Frankly, that degree of resolve is a bit overwhelming to consider. It is not a matter of titles, but the serene assurance of an individual who has found clarity.
I am particularly struck by his advice to avoid clinging to "pleasant" meditative states. You know, the visions, the rapture, the deep calm. His advice is to acknowledge them and continue, seeing their impermanent nature. It’s like he’s trying to keep us from falling into those subtle traps where we treat the path as if it were just another worldly success.
This is quite a demanding proposition, wouldn't you say? To ask myself if I am truly prepared to return to the fundamentals and persevere there until wisdom is allowed to blossom. He’s not asking anyone to admire him from a distance. He is merely proposing that we more info verify the method for ourselves. Sit down. Watch. Maintain the practice. The entire process is hushed, requiring no grand theories—only the quality of persistence.