I’ve been sitting here tonight thinking about Bhante Gavesi, and his total lack of interest in appearing exceptional. It’s funny, because people usually show up to see someone like him carrying various concepts and preconceived notions derived from literature —looking for an intricate chart or a profound theological system— yet he offers no such intellectual satisfaction. He’s never seemed interested in being a teacher of theories. 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 you’re used to the rush of everything else. I perceive that he is entirely devoid of the need to seek approval. He just keeps coming back to the most basic instructions: know what is happening, as it is happening. In a world where everyone wants to talk about "stages" of meditation or some kind of peak experience to post about, his way of teaching proves to be... startlingly simple. It is not presented as a vow of radical, instant metamorphosis. It is merely the proposal that mental focus might arise through the act of genuine and prolonged mindfulness.
I consider the students who have remained in his circle for many years. They do not typically describe their progress in terms of sudden flashes of insight. It is characterized by a slow and steady transformation. Prolonged durations spent in the simple act of noting.
Noting the phồng, xẹp, and the steps of walking. Not avoiding the pain when it shows up, and not chasing the pleasure when it finally does. It’s a click here lot of patient endurance. Eventually, I suppose, the mind just stops looking for something "extra" and anchors itself in the raw nature of existence—impermanence. Such growth does not announce itself with fanfare, yet it is evident in the quiet poise of those who have practiced.
His practice is deeply anchored in the Mahāsi school, with its unwavering focus on the persistence of sati. He persistently teaches that paññā is not a product of spontaneous flashes. It results from the actual effort of practice. Hours, days, years of just being precise with awareness. He has lived this truth himself. He showed no interest in seeking fame or constructing a vast hierarchy. He simply chose the path of retreat and total commitment to experiential truth. To be truthful, I find that level of dedication somewhat intimidating. 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. You know, the visions, the rapture, the deep calm. He instructs to simply note them and proceed, witnessing their cessation. It seems he wants to stop us from falling into the subtle pitfalls where mindfulness is reduced to a mere personal trophy.
This is quite a demanding proposition, wouldn't you say? To wonder if I’m actually willing to go back to the basics and just stay there long enough for anything to grow. He is not interested in being worshipped from afar. He is just calling us to investigate the truth personally. Sit. Witness. Continue the effort. It is a silent path, where elaborate explanations are unnecessary compared to steady effort.