We exist in an era dominated by the need for immediate feedback. Every action we take seems to involve a search for a "like" or a sign that we are moving in the right direction. Even on the cushion, we remain caught in the cycle of asking if our practice is correct or if we have reached a certain level of wisdom. We often expect our teachers to provide us with a "gold star" and the motivation needed to stay the course.
Veluriya Sayadaw, however, served as the perfect remedy for such a needy state of mind. He was a member of the Burmese Sangha who perfected the art of being a quiet counter-example. If your goal was to hear an ornate philosophical lecture, he would have surely disappointed you. He refrained from verbal analysis and inspirational talks, manifesting only his own presence. Yet, for the students with the persistence to stay by his side, his silence turned out to be a louder, more profound teacher than any lecture could ever be.
The Fear and Freedom of Self-Reliance
One can only speculate about the fear felt by practitioners upon reaching his residence. We’re so used to being "guided," but with Veluriya, the guidance was basically a mirror. When a teacher doesn't constantly check in on you or give you a "level up" talk, the ego is left with no place to take refuge. The restlessness, the repetitive complaints of boredom, and the deep-seated skepticism? They just sit there, staring back at you.
While this seems unpleasant, it was the central feature of his method. His goal was for people to abandon their reliance on the teacher and begin observing their own minds.
One can compare it to the second the support is taken away while learning to ride a bike; the terror is momentary, but the resulting balance is authentic and self-sustained.
The Seamless Awareness of Veluriya Sayadaw
As a significant teacher in the Mahāsi tradition, he placed immense value on the persistence of mindfulness.
For him, meditation wasn't a performance you did for an hour on a cushion. It consisted of:
• The quality of awareness while walking to fetch water.
• The way you ate your rice.
• The equanimity maintained when faced with a minor irritation.
He maintained an unswerving and unadorned way of living. He avoided all experimental methods or unnecessary additions to the path. He relied on the belief that constant awareness of the present, consistently applied, was sufficient for the truth to manifest on its own. He saw no reason to dress up the truth, as it was already manifest—we’re just usually too distracted by our own noise to see it.
No Escape: Finding Freedom within Discomfort
One of the things I find most refreshing about his style was how he handled difficulty. In the modern world, we utilize numerous "shortcuts" to alleviate stress or minimize physical discomfort. Veluriya, however, made no attempt to mitigate these experiences. If a student was suffering, bored, or restless, his primary advice was simply to... allow it to be.
By refusing to give you a "strategy" to escape the discomfort, he forced you to stay with it until you realized something huge: nothing is solid. The ache you perceived as a solid obstacle is, in reality, a flow of changing sensations. The boredom is nothing more than a transient state of mind. This is not intellectual knowledge; it is a realization born from sitting in the fire until it is no longer perceived as a more info threat.
Finding Clarity when the Commentary Stops
There are no books or hours of recorded teachings under his name. His legacy is much more subtle. It’s found in the steadiness of his students—individuals who realized that wisdom is not contingent upon one's emotional state It is the fruit of simply showing up.
Veluriya Sayadaw showed us that the Dhamma doesn't need a PR team. The truth does not require a continuous internal or external dialogue to be realized. Occasionally, the most effective act of a guide is to step aside and allow the quiet to instruct. It is a prompt that when we end our habit of interpreting every experience, we might finally begin to comprehend the raw nature of things.