It is often a minor detail that sets it off. This particular time, the sound of sticky pages was the cause when I reached for a weathered book left beside the window for too long. Humidity does that. I paused longer than necessary, methodically dividing each page, and in that stillness, his name reappeared unprompted.
One finds a unique attribute in esteemed figures like the Sayadaw. They are not often visible in the conventional way. Perhaps their presence is only felt from a great distance, filtered through stories, recollections, half-remembered quotes which are difficult to attribute exactly. In the case of Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, I perceive him through his voids. A lack of showmanship, a lack of haste, and a lack of justification. These very voids speak more eloquently than any speech.
I remember seeking another's perspective on him once Not directly, not in a formal way. Merely an incidental inquiry, as if discussing the day's weather. My companion nodded, smiled gently, and noted “Ah, Sayadaw… very steady.” The conversation ended there, without any expansion. At first, I felt a little unsatisfied with the answer. Now I think that response was perfect.
Here, it is the middle of the afternoon. 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. Maybe my back wanted a different kind of complaint today. I am reflecting on the nature of steadiness and how seldom it is found. Wisdom is a frequent topic of discussion, yet steadiness seems more difficult to achieve. Wisdom allows for admiration from a remote vantage point. But steadiness must be practiced consistently in every moment.
Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw lived through so much change. Changes in politics and society, the gradual decay and rapid reconstruction which defines the historical arc of modern Burma. Nevertheless, discussions about him rarely focus on his views or stances. They focus on the consistency of his character. He served as a stationary reference point amidst a sea of change I am uncertain how such stability can be achieved without becoming dogmatic. That particular harmony feels incredibly rare
There’s a small moment I keep replaying, although I cannot be sure my memory of it is perfectly true. A monk taking great care to fix his robe in a slow manner, with the air of someone who had no other destination in mind. Perhaps that monk was not Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw at all. The mind often fuses different individuals in memory. But the feeling stuck. That feeling of being unhurried by the expectations of the world.
I frequently ponder the price of living such a life. I do not mean in a grand way, but in the small details of each day. The quiet sacrifices that don’t look like sacrifices from the outside. Choosing not to engage in certain conversations. Accepting that others may misunderstand you. Allowing people to see in you whatever they require 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 remove the dust without much thought. The act of writing this feels almost superfluous, and I say that with respect. Not everything needs to have a clear use. Sometimes it’s enough to acknowledge that specific lives leave a profound imprint. never having sought to explain their own nature. Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw is such a figure in my eyes. A presence that is felt more info more deeply than it is understood, and perhaps it is meant to remain that way.