I find myself thinking of Beelin Sayadaw on nights when the effort to stay disciplined feels solitary, dull, and entirely disconnected from the romanticized versions of spirituality found online. I don’t know why Beelin Sayadaw comes to mind tonight. Maybe because everything feels stripped down. No inspiration. No sweetness. Just this dry, steady

Lately, I have been reflecting deeply on the concept of pillars. I'm not talking about the grand, symbolic pillars you might see on the front of a gallery, but rather the ones buried deep within a structure that remain unnoticed until you realize they are the sole reason the roof hasn't collapsed. That is the image that persists when I think of Mya