The clock reads 2:18 a.m., and a persistent, dull ache in my right knee is competing for my attention—not enough to force a shift, but plenty to destroy my calm. There is a strange hardness to the floor tonight that wasn't there before; it makes no sense, yet it feels like an absolute truth. The room is silent except for the distant sound of a motorbike that lingers on the edge of hearing. I am sweating slightly, despite the air not being particularly warm. My mind immediately categorizes this as a problem to be solved.
The Anatomy of Pain-Plus-Meaning
"Chanmyay pain" shows up in my mind, a pre-packaged label for the screaming in my knee. I didn’t ask for it; it simply arrives. What was once just sensation is now "pain-plus-interpretation."
Am I observing it correctly? Should I be noting it more clearly, or perhaps with less intensity? Am I feeding the pain by focusing on it so relentlessly? The raw pain is nothing compared to the complicated mental drama that has built up around it.
The "Chanmyay Doubt" Loop
I try to focus on the bare data: the warmth, the tightness, the rhythmic pulsing. Then, uncertainty arrives on silent feet, pretending to be a helpful technical question. Maybe I'm trying too hard, forcing a clarity that isn't there. Perhaps I'm being too passive, or I've missed a fundamental step in the instructions.
Maybe I misunderstood the instructions years ago and everything since then has been built on a slight misalignment that no one warned me about.
The fear of "wrong practice" is much sharper than any somatic sensation. I start to adjust my back, catch the movement, and then adjust again because I'm convinced I'm sitting crooked. The tension in my back increases, a physical rebellion against my lack of trust. A ball of tension sits behind my ribs, a somatic echo of my mental confusion.
Communal Endurance vs. Private Failure
On retreat, the discomfort seemed easier to bear because it was shared with others. Pain felt like a shared experience then. Now it feels personal, isolated. Like a solitary trial that I am proving to be unworthy of. “Chanmyay wrong practice” echoes in my head—not as a statement, but as a fear. I worry that I am just practicing my own neuroses instead of the Dhamma.
The Trap of "Proof" and False Relief
Earlier today I read something about wrong effort, and my mind seized it like proof. The internal critic felt vindicated: "Finally, proof that you are a failure at meditation." There is a weird sense of "aha!" mixed with a "no!" Relief because there is an explanation; panic because fixing it feels overwhelming. Sitting here now, I feel both at once. My jaw is clenched. I consciously soften my face, only for the tension to return almost immediately.
The Shifting Tide of Discomfort
The ache moves to a different spot, which is far more irritating than a steady sensation. I was looking for something stable to observe; I wanted a "fixed" object. Rather, it ebbs and flows, feeling like a dynamic enemy that is playing games with my focus. I attempt to meet it with equanimity, but I cannot. I notice the failure. Then I wonder if noticing the failure is progress or just more thinking.
The doubt isn't theatrical; click here it's a subtle background noise that never stops questioning my integrity. I don’t answer it, mostly because I don’t have an honest answer. My breath is shallow, but I don’t correct it. I know from experience that any attempt to force "rightness" will only create more knots to undo.
The sound of the clock continues, but I resist the urge to check the time. My limb is losing its feeling, replaced by the familiar static of a leg "falling asleep." I stay. Or I hesitate. Or I stay while planning to move. It’s all blurry. All the categories have collapsed into one big, messy, human experience.
I don’t resolve anything tonight. The pain doesn’t teach me a lesson. The doubt doesn’t disappear. I am just here, acknowledging that "not knowing" is also the path, even if I don't have a strategy for this mess. Continuing to breathe, continuing to hurt, continuing to exist. Which feels like the only honest thing happening right now.