Often, a trivial event serves as the catalyst. This particular time, the sound of sticky pages was the cause when I tried to flip through an old book resting in proximity to the window. It's a common result of humidity. I found myself hesitating for a long moment, pulling the pages apart one at a time, and somehow his name surfaced again, quietly, without asking.
There is a peculiar quality to revered personalities such as his. Their presence is seldom seen in a literal manner. Or maybe you see them, but only from a distance, perceived via the medium of lore, recollections, and broken quotes whose origins have become blurred over time. Regarding Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, my understanding comes primarily from what is missing. Devoid of theatricality, devoid of pressure, and devoid of excuse. In many ways, these absences are more descriptive than any language
I remember seeking another's perspective on him once In a casual, non-formal tone. Merely an incidental inquiry, as if discussing the day's weather. They nodded, offered a small smile, and uttered something along the lines of “Ah, the Sayadaw… he is very stable.” That was the extent of it, with no further detail. At the time, I felt slightly disappointed. In hindsight, I see that reply as being flawless.
Here, it is the middle of the afternoon. The ambient light is unremarkable, devoid of any drama 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 keep thinking about steadiness, about how rare it actually is. Wisdom is often praised, but steadiness feels like the more arduous path. Wisdom allows for admiration from a remote vantage point. Steadiness requires a presence that is maintained day in and day out.
Throughout his years, Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw endured vast shifts Transitions in power and culture, the slow wearing away and the sudden rise which defines the historical arc of modern Burma. Despite this, when he is mentioned, it is not for his political or personal opinions They emphasize his remarkable consistency. As if he were a permanent landmark that stayed still while the environment fluctuated. I’m not sure how someone manages that without becoming rigid. Achieving that equilibrium seems nearly unachievable.
I frequently return to a specific, minor memory, though I can’t even be sure it really happened the way I remember it. A bhikkhu meticulously and slowly adjusting his attire, with the air of someone who had no other destination in mind. It might have been another individual, not Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw. 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 often ask myself what the cost of that specific character might be. Not in a grand sense, but in the mundane daily sacrifices. The quiet sacrifices that don’t look like sacrifices from the outside. Forgoing interactions that might have taken place. Permitting errors in perception to remain. Accepting the projections of others without complaint. I cannot say if he ever pondered these things. It could be that he didn't, and that may be the very heart of it.
My hands have become dusty from handling the book. I brush the dust off in a distracted way Composing this reflection feels somewhat gratuitous, but in a good way. Not everything has to be useful. On occasion, it is sufficient simply to recognize. that particular individuals leave a lasting mark. without feeling the need to explain their own existence. Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw feels very much like that to me. A presence to be felt rather than comprehended, perhaps by click here design.