mahasi or goenka or pa auk, my head keeps arguing while the cushion waits

It is just before 2 a.m., and there is a lingering heat in the room that even the open window cannot quite dispel. There is a distinct scent of damp night air, reminiscent of a rainstorm that has already occurred elsewhere. My lower back is tight and resistant. I keep moving, then stopping, then fidgeting once more, as if I still believe the "ideal" posture actually exists. It doesn’t. And even if it did exist, I suspect I would only find it for a second before it vanished again.

I find my thoughts constantly weighing one system against another, like a mental debate club that doesn't know when to quit. Mahasi. Goenka. Pa Auk. Noting. Breath. Samatha. Vipassana. It feels as though I am scrolling through a series of invisible browser tabs, clicking back and forth, desperate for one of them to provide enough certainty to silence the others. I find this method-shopping at 2 a.m. to be both irritating and deeply humbling. I pretend to be above the "search," but in reality, I am still comparing "products" in the middle of the night instead of doing the work.

Earlier this evening, I made an effort to stay with the simple sensation of breathing. It should have been straightforward. Then the mind started questioning the technique: "Is this Mahasi abdominal movement or Pa Auk breath at the nostrils?" Are you overlooking something vital? Is there a subtle torpor? Should you be labeling this thought? That voice doesn't just whisper; it interrogates. I found my teeth grinding together before I was even aware of the stress. Once I recognized the tension, the "teacher" in my head had already won.

I remember a Goenka retreat where the structure felt so incredibly contained. The lack of choice was a relief. There were no decisions to make and no questions to ask; I just had to follow the path. That felt secure. But then, months later and without that structure, the doubts returned as if they had been lurking in the background all along. I thought of the rigorous standards of Pa Auk, and suddenly my own restless sitting felt like "cutting corners." I felt like I was being lazy, even in the privacy of my own room.

Interestingly, when I manage to actually stay present, the need to "pick a side" evaporates. Not permanently, but briefly. There is a flash of time where the knee pain is just heat and pressure. Heat in the knee. Pressure in the seat. The whine of a mosquito near my ear. Then the ego returns, frantically trying to categorize the sensation into a specific Buddhist framework. It would be funny if it weren't so frustrating.

My phone buzzed earlier with a random notification. I didn't check it immediately, which felt like a minor achievement, and then I felt ridiculous for feeling proud. It is the same cycle. Ranking. Measuring. I think about the sheer volume of energy I lose to the fear of practicing incorrectly.

I notice my breathing has become shallow again. I don't try to deepen it. I've realized that the act of "trying to relax" is itself a form of agitation. I hear the fan cycle through its mechanical clicks. The website noise irritates me more than it should. I note the "irritation," then realize I am just performing the Mahasi method for an invisible audience. Then I give up on the technique entirely just to be defiant. Then I simply drift away into thought.

Mahasi versus Goenka versus Pa Auk feels less like a genuine inquiry and more like a way for my mind to stay busy. If it keeps comparing, it doesn't have to sit still with the discomfort of uncertainty. Or the realization that no technique will magically eliminate the boredom and the doubt.

My legs are tingling now. Pins and needles. I attempt to just observe the sensation. The desire to shift my weight is a throbbing physical demand. I start bargaining with myself. I tell myself I'll stay for five more breaths before I allow an adjustment. The negotiation fails before the third breath. So be it.

There is no final answer. I am not "awakened." I feel human. Confused. Slightly tired. Still showing up. The "Mahasi vs. Goenka" thoughts are still there, but they no longer have the power to derail the sit. I leave the question unanswered. It isn't necessary. It is enough to just witness this mental theater, knowing that I am still here, breathing through it all.