Have you ever felt like you’re just... spiritual window shopping? I have certainly experienced that—switching constantly between different meditation platforms, searching for an immediate flash of enlightenment, but eventually finding your thoughts as chaotic as they were at the start. In an environment that constantly urges us to live at a faster pace and market the latest "short-term remedy" for spiritual calm, it becomes genuinely wearisome. We spend so much energy seeking a major shift that we fail to simply be present.
That’s why the story of Sayadaw U Kundala hits a little differently. He was not an instructor who sought out public fame or having a million followers. He was the real deal—a quiet, steady presence who saw no necessity in using complex or decorative language. For those seeking a brief path to peace, his guidance would not suffice. Being firmly established within the Mahāsi Vipassanā lineage, his entire approach centered on a concept we often avoid: remaining present.
I love how simple his approach was, even if it sounds a bit daunting at first. He did not want practitioners to try and "aestheticize" their internal state or to feign a state of bliss while experiencing intense physical discomfort. The focus remained purely on: phồng, xẹp, walking, and physical pain. It was a practice free from embellishment or psychological exit strategies. He instructed practitioners on how to endure unease by facing it directly. There’s something so incredibly brave about that, don't you think? His silence, in many respects, was more communicative than any oratorical performance.
The reality is that we are conditioned toward constant activity —introducing novel methods and experimenting with ceremonies— that we lose sight of the strength found in pure simplicity. The fundamental premise of Sayadaw U Kundala’s teaching was: stop trying to be "better" and start being more present. He used to say that wisdom matures slowly, kind of like fruit on a tree. It is impossible to accelerate the ripening of a peach through sheer will, isn't it? It follows its own organic timeline, just as meditation does. The path demands a unique and elegant combination of resilience and absolute modesty.
Honestly, it makes me realize that real commitment does not involve a sudden or theatrical transformation of one's life. It is something far more subtle and, consequently, far more difficult. It is the decision to maintain sincerity even in the face of boredom. It’s choosing to look at your own messy thoughts rather than seeking a distraction through a digital device.
While Sayadaw U Kundala may not have check here established a "brand" or a prominent public image, he provided something of far greater value: a testament that the silent road is usually the one that reaches the destination. Each breath, each stride, and each small annoyance acts as a portal for realization. The path is not always aesthetic, and it is undoubtedly not a quick one, yet there is true spiritual freedom in the choice to finally... end the constant striving.
I am interested to know, does the notion of "slow-growing" wisdom align with your present experience, or do you still experience that contemporary urge for a sudden shift?