It is often a minor detail that sets it off. In this instance, it was the noise of pages adhering to one another when I reached for a weathered book that’s been sitting too close to the window. Moisture has a way of doing that. I paused longer than necessary, pulling the pages apart one at a time, and his name emerged once more, silent and uninvited.
One finds a unique attribute in esteemed figures like the Sayadaw. They are not frequently seen in the public eye. Perhaps their presence is only felt from a great distance, viewed through a lens of stories, memories, and vague citations that no one can quite place. 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. Such silences communicate more than a multitude of words.
I recall asking a person about him on one occasion. In a casual, non-formal tone. Simply a passing remark, like a comment on the climate. My companion nodded, smiled gently, and noted “Ah, Sayadaw… very steady.” That was it. No elaboration. At the moment, I felt somewhat underwhelmed. 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. My thoughts return to the concept of stability and its scarcity. We talk about wisdom a lot, but steadiness feels harder. Wisdom allows for admiration from a remote vantage point. Steadiness has to be lived next to, day after day.
Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw witnessed immense transformations during his life. Shifts in the political and social landscape, alongside the constant flux of rebuilding that characterizes the modern history of Burma. Despite this, when he is mentioned, it is not for his political or personal opinions They focus more info on the consistency of his character. As if he were a permanent landmark that stayed still while the environment fluctuated. It is hard to grasp how he avoided rigidity while staying so firm. That particular harmony feels incredibly rare
There is a particular moment that keeps recurring in my mind, even though I cannot verify if the memory matches the reality. An image of a monk arranging his robes with great deliberation, with the air of someone who had no other destination in mind. It might have been another individual, not Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw. Memory tends to merge separate figures over time. However, the emotion associated with it persisted. That feeling of being unhurried by the expectations of the world.
I find myself wondering, often, what it costs to be that kind of person. Not in a theatrical way, but in the subtle daily price. Silent sacrifices that do not seem like losses to the casual eye. Choosing not to engage in certain conversations. Permitting errors in perception to remain. Permitting individuals to superimpose their own needs upon your image. I don’t know if he thought about these things. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe that’s the point.
I notice dust on my fingers from the old volume. I remove the dust without much thought. Composing these thoughts seems somewhat redundant, in a positive sense. There is no requirement for every thought to be practical. On occasion, it is sufficient simply to recognize. that particular individuals leave a lasting mark. without feeling the need to explain their own existence. To me, Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw embodies that quality. An influence that is experienced rather than analyzed, as it should be.