haunted by bhante sujiva and insight stages, i notice myself tracking progress instead of sensationsi sit down with bhante sujiva’s insight stages in my head and end up watching progress instead of mind

I find that Bhante Sujiva’s maps and the stages of insight follow me into my meditation, making me feel as though I am constantly auditing my progress rather than simply being present. It’s 2:03 a.m. and I’m awake for no good reason. The kind of awake where the body’s tired but the mind’s doing inventory. The fan hums on its lowest setting, its repetitive click marking the time in the silence. My left ankle feels stiff. I rotate it without thinking. Then I realize I moved. Then I wonder if that mattered. That’s how tonight’s going.

The Map is Not the Territory
I think of Bhante Sujiva whenever I find myself scanning my experience for symptoms of a specific stage. The vocabulary of the path—Vipassanā Ñāṇas, stages, and spiritual maps—fills my head.

These concepts form an internal checklist that I feel an unearned obligation to fulfill. I pretend to be disinterested in the maps, but I quickly find myself wondering if a specific feeling was a sign of "something deeper."

Earlier in the sit there was this brief clarity. Very brief. Sensations sharp, fast, almost flickering. Instantly, the mind intervened, trying to categorize the experience as a specific insight stage or something near it. The internal play-by-play broke the flow, or perhaps I am simply overthinking the interruption. Everything feels slippery once the mind starts narrating.

The Pokémon Cards of the Dhamma
My chest feels tight now. Not anxiety exactly. More like anticipation that went nowhere. I notice my breathing is uneven. Short inhale, longer exhale. I don’t adjust it. I have lost the will to micro-manage my experience this evening. My consciousness is stuck on a loop of memorized and highlighted spiritual phrases.

The stage of Arising and Passing.

The experience of Dissolution.

The "Dark Night" stages of Fear and Misery.

I hate how familiar those labels feel. Like I’m collecting Pokémon cards instead of actually sitting.

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. It is perilous because it subjects every minor sensation to an internal audit. I am constantly asking: "Is this genuine wisdom or mere agitation? Is this true balance or just a lack of interest?" I feel ridiculous thinking this way and also unable to stop.

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. The laughter provides a temporary release, before the internal auditor starts questioning the "equanimity" of the laugh.

The Exhaustion of the Report Card
I remember his words about the danger of clinging to the stages and the importance of natural progression. I nod internally when I read that. Makes sense. Yet, in the solitude of the night, I instinctively begin to evaluate myself with a hidden yardstick. It's hard to drop the habit of achievement when you've rebranded it as "spiritual growth."

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."

The fan clicks again. My foot tingles. Pins and needles creep up slowly. I stay. Or I think I stay. Part of me is already planning when I’ll move. I notice that planning. I don’t label it. I'm done with the "noting" for now; the words feel too heavy in this silence.

The maps of insight are simultaneously a relief and a burden. It is the comfort of a roadmap combined with the exhaustion of seeing the long road ahead. The maps were meant to be helpful guides, not 2 a.m. interrogation tools, but I am using them for the latter anyway.

No grand insight arrives, and I decline to "pin" myself to a specific stage on the map. The sensations keep changing. The thoughts keep checking. The body keeps sitting. Somewhere under all that, there’s still awareness happening, imperfect, tangled up with doubt and wanting and comparison. I remain present with this reality, not as a "milestone," but because it is the only truth I have, regardless of more info the map.