It is often a minor detail that sets it off. In this instance, it was the noise of pages adhering to one another as I attempted to leaf through an ancient volume that’s been sitting too close to the window. Such is the nature of humid conditions. I paused longer than necessary, separating the pages one by one, and his name simply manifested again, quiet and unbidden.
There is a peculiar quality to revered personalities such as his. You don’t actually see them very much. One might see them, yet only from a detached viewpoint, filtered through stories, recollections, half-remembered quotes whose origins have become blurred over time. With Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, I feel like I know him mostly through absences. Without grandiosity, without speed, and without the need for clarification. And those absences say more than most words ever could.
I once remember posing a question to someone regarding his character. It wasn't a direct or official inquiry. Only an offhand query, no different from asking about the rain. They nodded, offered a small smile, and uttered something along the lines of “Ah, Sayadaw… he possesses great steadiness.” That was the extent of it, with no further detail. At the time, I felt slightly disappointed. Now, I recognize the perfection in that brief response.
Currently, the sun is in its mid-afternoon position. The room is filled with a neutral, unornamented light. I have chosen to sit on the ground rather than the seat, without a specific motive. It could be that my back was looking for a different sensation this afternoon. My thoughts return to the concept of stability and its scarcity. We prioritize the mention of wisdom, but steadiness is arguably more demanding. Wisdom can be admired from afar. Steadiness, however, must be embodied in one's daily existence.
Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw navigated a lifetime of constant change Political upheavals, societal transitions, and cycles of erosion and renewal that has come to represent modern Burmese history. Nevertheless, discussions about him rarely focus on his views or stances. They speak primarily of his consistency. As if he was a reference point that didn’t move while everything else did. It is hard to grasp how he avoided rigidity while staying so firm. That particular harmony feels incredibly rare
There’s a small moment I keep replaying, even though I cannot verify if the memory matches the reality. An image of a monk arranging his robes with great deliberation, as though he possessed all the time in the world. That might not even have been Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw. The mind often fuses different individuals in memory. Nonetheless, the impression remained. That impression of not being hurried by external pressures.
I find myself wondering, often, what it costs to be get more info that kind of person. Not in a grand sense, but in the mundane daily sacrifices. The quiet sacrifices that don’t look like sacrifices from the outside. Missing conversations you could have had. Allowing misconceptions to go uncorrected. Allowing others to project whatever they need onto you. Whether he reflected on these matters is unknown to me. Perhaps he did not, and perhaps that is exactly the essence.
I notice dust on my fingers from the old volume. I wipe it away without thinking. Writing these words feels a bit unnecessary, and I mean that kindly. Not all reflections need to serve a specific purpose. Sometimes, the simple act of acknowledgement is enough. that some lives leave a deep impression. without feeling the need to explain their own existence. Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw feels very much like that to me. A presence to be felt rather than comprehended, perhaps by design.