It is often a minor detail that sets it off. Tonight, it was the subtle sound of pages clinging together when I tried to flip through an old book kept on a shelf too close to the window. It's a common result of humidity. I lingered for more time than was needed, methodically dividing each page, and his name simply manifested again, quiet and unbidden.
There is a peculiar quality to revered personalities such as his. One rarely encounters them in a direct sense. Or maybe you see them, but only from a distance, filtered through stories, recollections, half-remembered quotes that no one can quite place. In the case of Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, I perceive him through his voids. Devoid of theatricality, devoid of pressure, and devoid of excuse. Such silences communicate more than a multitude of words.
I recall asking a person about him on one occasion. It wasn't a direct or official inquiry. Just a casual question, as if I were asking about the weather. They nodded, offered a small smile, and uttered something along the lines of “Ah, Sayadaw… very steady.” The conversation ended there, without any expansion. In that instance, I felt a minor sense of disappointment. Now I think that response was perfect.
Currently, the sun is in its mid-afternoon position. The ambient light is unremarkable, devoid of any drama 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 find myself contemplating steadiness and its actual uniqueness. While wisdom is often discussed, steadiness appears to be the greater challenge. It is easy to admire wisdom from a distance. 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 which defines the historical arc of website modern Burma. Yet, when individuals recall his life, they don't emphasize his perspectives or allegiances Instead, they highlight his unwavering nature. As if he was a reference point that didn’t move while everything else did. I am uncertain how such stability can be achieved without becoming dogmatic. Achieving that equilibrium seems nearly unachievable.
I frequently return to a specific, minor memory, even if I am uncertain if my recollection is entirely accurate. A monk adjusting his robe, slowly, carefully, with the air of someone who had no other destination in mind. It might have been another individual, not Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw. Memory blurs people together. Nonetheless, the impression remained. That sense of not being rushed by the world’s expectations.
I find myself wondering, often, what it costs to be that kind of person. 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. The dialogues that were never held. Permitting errors in perception to remain. Allowing people to see in you whatever they require I don’t know if he thought about these things. Maybe he was beyond such thoughts, which could be the entire point.
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 everything has to be useful. On occasion, it is sufficient simply to recognize. that specific lives leave a profound imprint. without the need for self-justification. To me, Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw embodies that quality. A presence felt more than understood, and maybe meant to stay that way.