mahasi vs goenka vs pa auk keeps looping in my head, like i’m choosing a team instead of just sitting

It is just before 2 a.m., and there is a lingering heat in the room that even the open window cannot quite dispel. The air carries that humid, midnight smell, like the ghost of a rain that fell in another neighborhood. I feel a sharp tension in my lumbar region. I am caught in a cycle of adjusting and re-adjusting, still under the misguided impression that I can find a spot that doesn't hurt. The perfect posture remains elusive. Or if it does exist, I have never managed to inhabit it for more than a few fleeting moments.

My mind is stuck in an endless loop of sectarian comparisons, acting like a courtroom that never goes into recess. 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. It is frustrating and, frankly, a little embarrassing. I tell myself that I have moved past this kind of "spiritual consumerism," and yet here I am, mentally ranking lineages instead of actually practicing.

Earlier tonight, I attempted to simply observe the breath. Simple. Or at least it was supposed to be. Then my mind intervened with an interrogation: are you watching it Mahasi-style or more like traditional anapanasati? Are you overlooking something vital? Is there a subtle torpor? Should you be labeling this thought? That voice doesn't just whisper; it interrogates. My jaw clenched without me even realizing it. Once I recognized the tension, the "teacher" in my head had already won.

I recall the feeling of safety on a Goenka retreat, where the schedule was absolute. The routine was my anchor. No choices. No questions. Just follow the instructions. That felt secure. And then I recall sitting alone months later, without the retreat's support, and suddenly all the doubts arrived like they had been waiting in the shadows. I thought of the rigorous standards of Pa Auk, and suddenly my own restless sitting felt like "cutting corners." Like I was cheating, even though there was no one there to watch.

Interestingly, when I manage to actually stay present, the need to "pick a side" evaporates. It is a temporary but powerful silence. There is a moment where sensation is just sensation. Warmth in the joint. The weight of the body on the cushion. The high-pitched sound of a bug nearby. 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.

A notification light flashed on my phone a while ago. I didn't check it immediately, which felt like a minor achievement, and then I felt ridiculous for feeling proud. The same egoic loop. Always comparing. Always grading. I speculate on the amount of effort I waste on the anxiety of "getting it right."

I become aware of a constriction in my breath. I don't try to deepen it. I know from experience that trying to manufacture peace only creates more stress. I hear the fan cycle through its mechanical clicks. The noise irritates me more than it should. I apply a label to the feeling, then catch myself doing it out of a sense of obligation. Then I stop labeling out of spite. Then I lose my focus completely.

Comparing these lineages is just another way for my mind to avoid the silence. As read more long as it's "method-shopping," it doesn't have to face the raw reality of the moment. Or the fact that no matter the system, I still have to sit with myself, night after night.

My legs are tingling now. Pins and needles. I try to meet it with equanimity. The desire to shift my weight is a throbbing physical demand. I enter into an internal treaty. I tell myself I'll stay for five more breaths before I allow an adjustment. The negotiation fails before the third breath. It doesn't matter.

I don't feel resolved. I am not "awakened." I feel profoundly ordinary. 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 make no effort to find a winner. I don’t need to. For now, it is enough to notice that this is simply what the mind does when the world gets quiet.