It is often a minor detail that sets it off. The trigger today was the sound of paper sticking together as I attempted to leaf through an ancient volume placed too near the window pane. Humidity does that. I lingered for more time than was needed, carefully detaching the sheets individually, and somehow his name surfaced again, quietly, without asking.
One finds a unique attribute in esteemed figures like the Sayadaw. You don’t actually see them very much. Perhaps their presence is only felt from a great distance, filtered through stories, recollections, half-remembered quotes which are difficult to attribute exactly. When I think of Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, he is defined by his absences. Without grandiosity, without speed, and without the need for clarification. And those absences say more than most words ever could.
I recall an occasion when I inquired about him. Without directness or any sense of formality. Just a casual question, as if I were asking about the weather. The individual inclined their head, gave a slight smile, and replied “Ah, the Sayadaw… he is very stable.” The conversation ended there, without any expansion. Initially, I experienced a touch of letdown. In hindsight, I see that reply as being flawless.
It’s mid-afternoon where I am. The day is filled with a muted, unexceptional light. I am positioned on the floor rather than in a chair, quite arbitrarily. Maybe I am testing a new type of physical strain today. I am reflecting on the nature of steadiness and how seldom it is found. Wisdom is often praised, but steadiness feels like the more arduous path. Wisdom can be admired from afar. Steadiness requires a presence that is maintained day in and day out.
Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw witnessed immense transformations during his life. Changes in politics and society, the gradual decay and rapid reconstruction that seems to define modern Burmese history. Despite this, when he is mentioned, it is not for his political or personal opinions Instead, they highlight his unwavering nature. He served as a stationary reference point amidst a sea of change How one avoids rigidity while remaining so constant is a mystery to me. That level of balance seems nearly impossible to maintain.
I frequently return to a specific, minor memory, even if I am uncertain if my recollection is entirely accurate. An image of a monk arranging his robes with great deliberation, with the air of someone who website had no other destination in mind. It is possible that the figure was not actually Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw. Recollections have a way of blending people's identities. Nonetheless, the impression remained. That feeling of being unhurried by the expectations of the world.
I find myself questioning the personal toll of being such an individual. Not in a theatrical way, but in the subtle daily price. Silent sacrifices that do not seem like losses to the casual eye. Remaining silent when one could have spoken. Letting misunderstandings stand. Permitting individuals to superimpose their own needs upon your image. I cannot say if he ever pondered these things. Maybe he was beyond such thoughts, which could be the entire point.
There’s dust on my hands now from the book. I brush it off absentmindedly. The act of writing this feels almost superfluous, and I say that with respect. Not all reflections need to serve a specific purpose. Occasionally, it is adequate to merely acknowledge. that some lives leave a deep impression. never having sought to explain their own nature. I perceive Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw in exactly that way. An aura that is sensed rather than understood, and perhaps intended to remain so.