A tiny spark is usually enough to ignite the memory. The trigger today was the sound of paper sticking together when I reached for a weathered book left beside the window for too long. Such is the nature of humid conditions. I lingered for more time than was needed, pulling the pages apart one at a time, and his name simply manifested again, quiet and unbidden.
There is something enigmatic about figures of such respect. They are not frequently seen in the public eye. Or perhaps they are perceived only from afar, transmitted through anecdotes, reminiscences, and partial quotations which are difficult to attribute exactly. With Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, I feel like I know him mostly through absences. Without grandiosity, without speed, and without the need for clarification. These very voids speak more eloquently than any speech.
I remember once asking someone about him. Without directness or any sense of formality. Just a lighthearted question, much like an observation of the sky. My companion nodded, smiled gently, and noted “Ah, Sayadaw… he possesses great steadiness.” That was the extent of it, with no further detail. Initially, I experienced a touch of letdown. In hindsight, I see that reply as being flawless.
It is now mid-afternoon where I sit. The room is filled with a neutral, unornamented light. I’m sitting on the floor instead of the chair for no real reason. Perhaps my spine desired a different sort of challenge this morning. I find myself contemplating steadiness and its actual uniqueness. Wisdom is a frequent topic of discussion, yet steadiness seems more difficult to achieve. One can appreciate wisdom from a great distance. Steadiness, however, must be embodied in one's daily existence.
Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw lived through so much change. Political upheavals, societal transitions, and cycles of erosion and renewal that has come to represent modern Burmese history. And still, when he is the subject of conversation, people don't dwell on his beliefs or stances. They emphasize his remarkable consistency. He served as a stationary reference point amidst a sea of change It is difficult to understand how one can maintain that state without turning stiff. That balance feels almost impossible.
There’s a small moment I keep replaying, although I am not certain the event occurred exactly as I recall. A bhikkhu slowly and methodically adjusting his traditional robes, as though he possessed all the time in the world. That person may not have been Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw himself. Memory tends to merge separate figures over time. But the underlying feeling stayed with me. That feeling of being unhurried by the expectations of the world.
I find myself questioning the personal toll of being such an individual. 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. Forgoing check here interactions that might have taken place. Permitting errors in perception to remain. 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.
I notice dust on my fingers from the old volume. I brush it off absentmindedly. Writing these words feels a bit unnecessary, and I mean that kindly. Not everything has to be useful. Sometimes it’s enough to acknowledge that some lives leave a deep impression. without feeling the need to explain their own existence. Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw feels like that to me. A presence that is felt more deeply than it is understood, and perhaps it is meant to remain that way.