Often, a trivial event serves as the catalyst. In this instance, it was the noise of pages adhering to one another as I attempted to leaf through an ancient volume that’s been sitting too close to the window. That is the effect of damp air. I lingered for more time than was needed, ungluing each page with care, and his name drifted back to me, softly and without warning.
One finds a unique attribute in esteemed figures like the Sayadaw. Their presence is seldom seen in a literal manner. Perhaps their presence is only felt from a great distance, conveyed via narratives, memories, and fragmented sayings which are difficult to attribute exactly. When I think of Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, he is defined by his absences. The void of drama, the void of rush, and the void of commentary. In many ways, these absences are more descriptive than any language
I remember once asking someone about him. Not directly, not in a formal way. Just a casual question, as if I were asking about the weather. The person gave a nod and a faint smile, then remarked “Ah, the Sayadaw… he is very stable.” That was it. No elaboration. Initially, I experienced a touch of letdown. Now I think that response was perfect.
The time is currently mid-afternoon in my location. The room is filled with a neutral, unornamented light. I am positioned on the floor rather than in a chair, quite arbitrarily. Perhaps my spine desired a different sort of challenge this morning. I am reflecting on the nature of steadiness and how seldom it is found. While wisdom is often discussed, steadiness appears to be the greater challenge. Wisdom is something we can respect from the outside. But steadiness must be practiced consistently in every moment.
Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw navigated a lifetime of click here constant change Changes in politics and society, the gradual decay and rapid reconstruction that characterizes the modern history of Burma. 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 hard to grasp how he avoided rigidity while staying so firm. That level of balance seems nearly impossible to maintain.
There is a particular moment that keeps recurring in my mind, although I cannot be sure my memory of it is perfectly true. A monk adjusting his robe, slowly, carefully, as though he possessed all the time in the world. That person may not have been Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw himself. Recollections have a way of blending people's identities. However, the emotion associated with it persisted. The feeling of being unburdened by the demands of society.
I find myself questioning the personal toll of being such an individual. Not in a theatrical way, but in the subtle daily price. The subtle sacrifices that appear unremarkable to others. Remaining silent when one could have spoken. Allowing misconceptions to go uncorrected. Accepting the projections of others without complaint. I am unsure if he ever contemplated these issues. Maybe he was beyond such thoughts, which could be the entire point.
I notice dust on my fingers from the old volume. I wipe it away without thinking. The act of writing this feels almost superfluous, and I say that with respect. Not all reflections need to serve a specific purpose. On occasion, it is sufficient simply to recognize. that specific lives leave a profound imprint. never having sought to explain their own nature. Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw feels very much like that to me. An influence that is experienced rather than analyzed, as it should be.