the insight stages bhante sujiva talks about keep whispering during my sits when i just want to attendbhante sujiva, insight stages, and the quiet habit of measuring my sits instead of being there

Bhante Sujiva and these insight stages keep haunting my sits like I’m secretly checking progress instead of paying attention. It is just past 2 a.m., and I am caught in that restless wakefulness where the body craves sleep but the consciousness is preoccupied with an internal census. The fan’s on low, clicking every few seconds like it’s reminding me time exists. I notice a stiffness in my left ankle and adjust it reflexively, only to immediately analyze the movement and its impact on my practice. This is the loop I am in tonight.

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.

I feel burdened by a spiritual "to-do list" of stages that I never actually signed up for. I tell myself I’m not chasing stages. Then five minutes later I’m like, "okay but that felt like something, right?"

Earlier in the sit there was this brief clarity. Very brief. Sensations sharp, fast, almost flickering. 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. Once the mind starts telling a story about the sit, the actual experience vanishes.

The Pokémon Cards of the Dhamma
There is a tightness in my heart, a physical echo of an anticipation that failed to deliver. I am aware of my uneven breath, yet I have no desire to "fix" it tonight. I am exhausted by the constant need for correction. My consciousness is stuck on a loop of memorized and highlighted spiritual phrases.

Knowledge of arising and passing.

The experience of Dissolution.

The Dukkha-ñāṇas: Fear, Misery, and the urge to escape.

I resent how accessible these labels are; it feels more like amassing "spiritual assets" than actually practicing.

The Dangerous Precision of Bhante Sujiva
The crystalline clarity of Bhante Sujiva’s teaching is both a blessing and a burden. It helps by providing a map for the terrain of the mind. Dangerous because now every twitch, every mental shift gets evaluated. I am constantly asking: "Is this genuine wisdom or mere agitation? Is this true balance or just a lack of interest?" I am aware of how ridiculous this "spiritual accounting" is, but the habit persists.

My knee is throbbing again, right where it was last night. I observe the heat and pressure. 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. For a brief moment, that humor creates space, until the mind returns to scrutinize the laughter itself.

The Exhaustion of the Report Card
I remember reading Bhante Sujiva saying something about not clinging to stages, about practice unfolding naturally. I nod internally when I read that. Makes sense. Then I come here, alone, late at night, and immediately start measuring myself against an invisible ruler. 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 am sick of my own internal grading system; I just want to be present without the "report card."

Another click of the fan. The "static" of pins and needles fills my foot. I choose to stay. I see the mind already plotting the "exit strategy" from the pain, but I don't apply a technical note to it. I'm done with the "noting" for now; check here the words feel too heavy in this silence.

Insight stages feel both comforting and oppressive. Like knowing there’s a path but also knowing exactly how far you might still have to walk. I doubt Bhante Sujiva intended for these teachings to become a source of late-night self-criticism, yet that is my reality.

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. Beneath the noise, a flawed awareness persists, messy and interwoven with uncertainty and desire. I remain present with this reality, not as a "milestone," but because it is the only truth I have, regardless of the map.