Does it ever feel like you’re just... skimming the surface of spiritual traditions? Many of us have done this—transitioning rapidly from one digital meditation tool to the next, searching for an immediate flash of enlightenment, yet inevitably returning to the beginning with an incessant internal monologue. In an environment that constantly urges us to live at a faster pace and promote the newest "quick solution" for mental tranquility, it can be profoundly fatiguing. Our preoccupation with achieving a breakthrough often causes us to neglect the present moment.
That’s why the story of Sayadaw U Kundala hits a little differently. He did not prioritize becoming a well-known spiritual figure or seeking widespread popularity. He embodied true practice—a silent and stable influence who avoided the use of elaborate or pretentious terminology. If one desired a quick path to enlightenment, he was not the appropriate mentor. Deeply rooted in the Mahāsi Vipassanā tradition, his core teaching focused on the very thing we tend to escape: staying in place.
I love how simple his approach was, even if it sounds a bit daunting at first. He didn't want you to "beautify" your practice or to feign a state of bliss while experiencing intense physical discomfort. It was a matter of simply noting: rising, falling, walking, and sensations of ache. 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.
We are so habituated to the act of "doing" and achieving —incorporating new tools and exploring different rituals— that we lose sight of the strength found in pure simplicity. The fundamental premise of Sayadaw U Kundala’s teaching was: end the pursuit of self-perfection and prioritize actual presence. He would explain that wisdom grows at its own pace, similar to the ripening of fruit. It is impossible to accelerate the ripening of a peach through sheer will, isn't it? It demands its own necessary time, and the path of insight is no different. It calls for an unusual, striking mixture of persistent effort and profound humility.
In truth, this leads to the realization that authentic dedication does not involve a sudden or theatrical transformation of one's life. It is a much more minute and, in some ways, more demanding task. It means opting for integrity even when the practice feels tedious. It involves choosing to witness your own unorganized thoughts instead of scrolling through your phone for an escape.
Though Sayadaw U Kundala did not create a "brand" or a high-profile legacy, he left behind a much more significant gift: a lesson that the here unpretentious path is often the most effective route. Every breath, every movement, and every small obstacle is an invitation to deeper awareness. The path is not always aesthetic, and it is undoubtedly not a quick one, but man, there’s a real sense of freedom in finally deciding to just... stop running.
I am interested to know, does the notion of "slow-growing" wisdom align with your present experience, or are you feeling more of that modern itch for a breakthrough?