As I reflect tonight on the example of Bhante Gavesi, and his remarkable refusal to present himself as anything extraordinary. It’s funny, because people usually show up to see someone like him with all these theories and expectations they’ve gathered from books —desiring a structured plan or an elaborate intellectual methodology— but he simply refrains from fulfilling those desires. He appears entirely unconcerned with becoming a mere instructor of doctrines. Rather, his students often depart with a much more subtle realization. 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 for those accustomed to the frantic pace of modern life. I've noticed he doesn't try to impress anyone. He unfailingly redirects focus to the core instructions: know what is happening, as it is happening. In an environment where people crave conversations about meditative "phases" or seeking extraordinary states to share with others, his perspective is quite... liberating in its directness. He offers no guarantee of a spectacular or sudden change. It is just the idea that clarity can be achieved through the act of genuine and prolonged mindfulness.
I contemplate the journey of those who have trained under him for a decade. They don't really talk about sudden breakthroughs. It’s more of a gradual shift. Months and years of disciplined labeling of phenomena.
Rising, falling. Walking. Accepting somatic pain without attempting to escape it, while also not pursuing pleasant states when they occur. It requires a significant amount of khanti (patience). Gradually, the internal dialogue stops seeking extraordinary outcomes and settles into the way things actually are—the impermanence of it all. It’s not the kind of progress that makes a lot of noise, nonetheless, it is reflected in the steady presence of the yogis.
He is firmly established within the Mahāsi lineage, that relentless emphasis on more info continuity. He consistently points out that realization is not the result of accidental inspiration. It is the fruit of dedicated labor. Commitment to years of exacting and sustained awareness. He has personally embodied this journey. 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. I find that kind of commitment a bit daunting, to be honest. It is not a matter of titles, but the serene assurance of an individual who has found clarity.
One thing that sticks with me is how he warns people about getting attached to the "good" experiences. Namely, the mental images, the pīti (rapture), or the profound tranquility. He instructs to simply note them and proceed, witnessing their cessation. He is clearly working to prevent us from becoming ensnared in those fine traps where mindfulness is reduced to a mere personal trophy.
It’s a bit of a challenge, isn’t it? To ask myself if I am truly prepared to return to the fundamentals and just stay there long enough for anything to grow. He is not interested in being worshipped from afar. He simply invites us to put the technique to the test. Take a seat. Observe. Persevere. It is a silent path, where elaborate explanations are unnecessary compared to steady effort.