It is often a minor detail that sets it off. The trigger today was the sound of paper sticking together when I tried to flip through an old book kept on a shelf too close to the window. Humidity does that. I found myself hesitating for a long moment, pulling the pages apart one at a time, and somehow his name surfaced again, quietly, without asking.
One finds a unique attribute in esteemed figures like the Sayadaw. One rarely encounters them in a direct sense. Or maybe you see them, but only from a distance, viewed through a lens of stories, memories, and vague citations which lack a definitive source. With Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, I feel like I know him mostly through absences. Devoid of theatricality, devoid of pressure, and devoid of excuse. And those absences say more than most words ever could.
I remember seeking another's perspective on him once In an indirect and informal manner. Simply a passing remark, like a comment on the climate. My companion nodded, smiled gently, and noted “Ah, Sayadaw… very steady.” That was the extent of it, with no further detail. Initially, I experienced a touch of letdown. Today, I consider that answer to have been entirely appropriate.
It’s mid-afternoon where I am. The light is dull, not golden, not dramatic. Just light. For no particular reason, I am seated on the floor instead of the furniture. It could be that my back was looking for a different sensation this afternoon. I am reflecting on the nature of steadiness and how seldom it is found. We prioritize the mention of wisdom, but steadiness is arguably more demanding. Wisdom allows for admiration from a remote vantage point. Steadiness requires a presence that is maintained day in and day out.
Throughout his years, Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw endured vast shifts Changes in politics and society, the gradual decay and rapid reconstruction which defines the historical arc of modern Burma. And yet, when people speak of him, they don’t talk about opinions or positions. They talk about consistency. He was like a fixed coordinate in a landscape of constant motion. I am uncertain how such stability can be achieved without becoming dogmatic. here That particular harmony feels incredibly rare
I frequently return to a specific, minor memory, although I cannot be sure my memory of it is perfectly true. A bhikkhu slowly and methodically adjusting his traditional robes, with the air of someone who had no other destination in mind. Perhaps that monk was not Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw at all. Memory blurs people together. But the underlying feeling stayed with me. The sense of total freedom from the world's expectations.
I often ask myself what the cost of that specific character might be. Not in a dramatic sense. Just the daily cost. The quiet offerings that others might not even recognize as sacrifices. Choosing not to engage in certain conversations. Accepting that others may misunderstand you. Permitting individuals to superimpose their own needs upon your image. I am unsure if he ever contemplated these issues. It could be that he didn't, and that may be the very heart of it.
There is a layer of dust on my hands from the paper. I wipe it away without thinking. Composing these thoughts seems somewhat redundant, in a positive sense. Not everything has to be useful. Sometimes it’s enough to acknowledge that specific lives leave a profound imprint. without ever trying to explain themselves. I perceive Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw in exactly that way. A presence to be felt rather than comprehended, perhaps by design.