By Day 6, something had changed.

Not dramatically. Not with fireworks or visions. But subtly—like a deep lake settling after a storm. I could feel it during meditation. My body still complained—my back still stiffened, my knees still throbbed—but I was no longer reacting to it as intensely. I had started watching it all as passing phenomena.

Today we formally transitioned from Anapana to Vipassana—the core technique. Goenka-ji introduced it during the morning instructions: scanning the body from head to toe, observing sensations as they arise, without reacting, without preference.

It sounded simple—just observe sensations, remain equanimous—but this was where the real work began.

As I scanned my body, I noticed sensations I had never paid attention to before. A tingling in the scalp. A pulsing warmth in the chest. A dull heaviness in the thighs. Each area had something going on—sometimes pleasant, sometimes painful, sometimes neutral. And yet, every single sensation changed. Constantly.

Goenka-ji’s phrase echoed in my mind: “Anicca… anicca… all is impermanent.”

That idea—impermanence—sank in deeper today. I wasn’t just hearing it anymore; I was beginning to experience it. That sharp pain in the leg? It arose, stayed, and faded. That subtle itch on my neck? It came, went. Even the random emotions that bubbled up—regret, longing, sadness—arose like clouds and passed like wind.

The challenge wasn’t just in observing, but in not reacting. My instincts still wanted to escape discomfort and cling to pleasant sensations. But with each scan, each moment of awareness, the grip loosened a bit more.

During the evening discourse, Goenka-ji said, “You are penetrating the truth at the experiential level. You are going to the root.” It struck me how different this path was from everything else I’d ever done. This wasn’t belief. It wasn’t theory. It was direct, raw observation of what is—inside me.

As night fell over Budhanilkantha, the sky was clear and full of stars. I stood outside for a few minutes after the last sitting, wrapped in a shawl, breathing in the cool silence. I felt a stillness that wasn’t just around me—but within.

The mind was still busy. The body still sore. But the awareness was growing.

I was beginning to see.