As I reflect tonight on the example of Bhante Gavesi, and how he avoids any attempt to seem unique or prominent. It is ironic that meditators often approach a teacher of his stature loaded with academic frameworks and specific demands from book study —looking for an intricate chart or a profound theological system— yet he offers no such intellectual satisfaction. He has never shown any inclination toward being a teacher of abstract concepts. Instead, people seem to walk away with something much quieter. A sort of trust in their own direct experience, I guess.
His sense of unshakeable poise is almost challenging to witness if one is habituated to the constant acceleration of the world. I have observed that he makes no effort to gain anyone's admiration. He consistently returns to the most fundamental guidance: be aware of the present moment, exactly as it unfolds. In an environment where people crave conversations about meditative "phases" or looking for high spiritual moments to validate themselves, his approach feels... disarming. It’s not a promise of a dramatic transformation. It is just the idea that clarity can be achieved from actually paying attention, honestly and for a long time.
I reflect on those practitioners who have followed his guidance for a long time. They seldom mention experiencing instant enlightenments. Their growth is marked by a progressive and understated change. Months and years of disciplined labeling of phenomena.
Noting the phồng, xẹp, and the steps of walking. Not avoiding the pain when it shows up, while also not pursuing pleasant states when they occur. It requires a significant amount of khanti (patience). In time, I believe, the consciousness ceases its search for something additional and rests in the fundamental reality of anicca. It is not the type of progress that generates public interest, but it manifests in the serene conduct of the practitioners.
He’s so rooted in that Mahāsi tradition, centered on the tireless requirement for continuous mindfulness. He consistently points out that realization is not the result of accidental inspiration. It results from the actual effort of practice. Dedicating vast amounts of time to technical and accurate sati. He has personally embodied this journey. He abstained from pursuing status or creating a large-scale institution. He simply chose the path of retreat and total commitment to experiential truth. Frankly, that degree of resolve is a bit overwhelming to consider. It’s not about here credentials; it’s just that quiet confidence of someone who isn't confused anymore.
I am particularly struck by his advice to avoid clinging to "pleasant" meditative states. Specifically, the visual phenomena, the intense joy, or the deep samādhi. He instructs to simply note them and proceed, witnessing their cessation. It’s like he’s trying to keep us from falling into those subtle 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 persevere there until wisdom is allowed to blossom. He is not interested in being worshipped from afar. He is merely proposing that we verify the method for ourselves. Sit. Witness. Continue the effort. It is a silent path, where elaborate explanations are unnecessary compared to steady effort.