A tiny spark is usually enough to ignite the memory. In this instance, it was the noise of pages adhering to one another as I turned the pages of a long-neglected book placed too near the window pane. Such is the nature of humid conditions. I stopped for a duration that felt excessive, methodically dividing each page, and his name drifted back to me, softly and without warning.
There’s something strange about respected figures like him. They are not frequently seen in the public eye. Or perhaps they are perceived only from afar, filtered through stories, recollections, half-remembered quotes whose origins have become blurred over time. Regarding Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, my understanding comes primarily from what is missing. The absence of spectacle. The absence of urgency. The absence of explanation. In many ways, these absences are more descriptive than any language
I recall an occasion when I inquired about him. It wasn't a direct or official inquiry. Just a casual question, as if I were asking about the weather. The person gave a nod and a faint smile, then remarked “Ah, Sayadaw… very steady.” That was the extent of it, with no further detail. At first, I felt a little unsatisfied with the answer. 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. Perhaps my spine desired a different sort of challenge this morning. I keep pondering the idea of being steady and the rarity of that quality. While wisdom is often discussed, steadiness appears to be the greater challenge. Wisdom allows for admiration from a remote vantage point. Steadiness must be lived in close proximity, throughout each day.
Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw witnessed immense transformations during his life. Transitions in power and culture, the slow wearing away and the sudden rise that seems to define modern Burmese history. And still, when he is the subject of conversation, people don't dwell on his beliefs or stances. They talk about consistency. He served as a stationary reference point amidst a sea of change How click here one avoids rigidity while remaining so constant is a mystery to me. That level of balance seems nearly impossible to maintain.
There’s a small moment I keep replaying, even though I cannot verify if the memory matches the reality. A bhikkhu meticulously and slowly adjusting his attire, with the air of someone who had no other destination in mind. That might not even have been Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw. The mind often fuses different individuals in memory. However, the emotion associated with it persisted. That sense of not being rushed by the world’s expectations.
I often ask myself what the cost of that specific character might be. I do not mean in a grand way, but in the small details of each day. Silent sacrifices that do not seem like losses to the casual eye. Choosing not to engage in certain conversations. Allowing misconceptions to go uncorrected. Allowing people to see in you whatever they require I cannot say if he ever pondered these things. Perhaps he did not, and perhaps that is exactly the essence.
There’s dust on my hands now from the book. I wipe it away without thinking. Writing this feels slightly unnecessary, and I mean that in a good way. Utility is not the only measure of value. Sometimes it’s enough to acknowledge that particular individuals leave a lasting mark. without the need for self-justification. I perceive Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw in exactly that way. A presence to be felt rather than comprehended, perhaps by design.