Often, a trivial event serves as the catalyst. This time it was the sound of pages sticking together while I was browsing through an old book left beside the window for too long. That is the effect of damp air. I paused longer than necessary, methodically dividing each page, and his name emerged once more, silent and uninvited.
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, perceived via the medium of lore, recollections, and broken quotes that remain hard to verify. With Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, I feel like I know him mostly through absences. The void of drama, the void of rush, and the void of commentary. Those missing elements convey a deeper truth than most rhetoric.
I remember seeking another's perspective on him once In a casual, non-formal tone. Just a casual question, as if I were asking about the weather. They nodded, offered a small smile, and uttered something along the lines of “Ah, Sayadaw… he possesses great steadiness.” That was it. No elaboration. At the moment, I felt somewhat underwhelmed. In hindsight, I see that reply as being flawless.
Currently, the sun is in its mid-afternoon position. The light is dull, not golden, not dramatic. Just light. For no particular reason, I am seated on the floor instead of the furniture. Perhaps my body sought a new form of discomfort today. I keep thinking about steadiness, about how rare it actually is. Wisdom is a frequent topic of discussion, yet steadiness seems more difficult to achieve. Wisdom allows for admiration from a remote vantage point. Steadiness has to be lived next to, day after day.
Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw lived through so much change. Political shifts, social shifts, the slow erosion and sudden rebuilding 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. Instead, they highlight his unwavering nature. He was like a fixed coordinate in a landscape of constant motion. It is hard to grasp how he avoided rigidity while staying so firm. That particular harmony feels incredibly rare
There is a particular moment website that keeps recurring in my mind, even though I cannot verify if the memory matches the reality. A bhikkhu slowly and methodically adjusting his traditional robes, as if he were entirely free from any sense of urgency. That might not even have been Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw. Memory tends to merge separate figures over time. Nonetheless, the impression remained. The sense of total freedom from the world's expectations.
I often reflect on the sacrifices required to be a person of that nature. Not in a dramatic sense. Just the daily cost. The quiet sacrifices that don’t look like sacrifices from the outside. Remaining silent when one could have spoken. Allowing misconceptions to go uncorrected. Accepting the projections of others without complaint. I cannot say if he ever pondered these things. Perhaps he did not, and perhaps that is exactly the essence.
I notice dust on my fingers from the old volume. I brush it off absentmindedly. Composing these thoughts seems somewhat redundant, in a positive sense. There is no requirement for every thought to be practical. Sometimes, the simple act of acknowledgement is enough. that certain lives leave an imprint without feeling the need to explain their own existence. Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw is such a figure in my eyes. An influence that is experienced rather than analyzed, as it should be.