Something small triggers it. This particular time, the sound of sticky pages was the cause as I turned the pages of a long-neglected book resting in proximity to the window. Such is the nature of humid conditions. I found myself hesitating for a long moment, methodically dividing each page, and in that stillness, his name reappeared unprompted.
There is something enigmatic about figures of such respect. One rarely encounters them in a direct sense. If seen at all, it is typically from a remote perspective, conveyed via narratives, memories, and fragmented sayings which are difficult to attribute exactly. With Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, I feel like I know him mostly through absences. Devoid of theatricality, devoid of pressure, and devoid of excuse. Those missing elements convey a deeper truth than most rhetoric.
I recall asking a person about him on one occasion. It wasn't a direct or official inquiry. Simply a passing remark, like a comment on the climate. The person gave a nod and a faint smile, then remarked “Ah, Sayadaw… very steady.” That was all—no further commentary was provided. At the moment, I felt somewhat underwhelmed. Now, I recognize the perfection in that brief response.
Here, it is the middle of the afternoon. The ambient light is unremarkable, devoid of any drama For no particular reason, I am seated on the floor instead of the furniture. It could be that my back was looking for a different sensation this afternoon. I keep pondering the idea of being steady and the rarity of that quality. Wisdom is often praised, but steadiness feels like the more arduous path. Wisdom allows for admiration from a remote vantage point. Steadiness, however, must be embodied in one's daily existence.
Throughout his years, Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw endured vast shifts Changes in politics and society, the gradual decay and rapid reconstruction that seems to define modern Burmese history. And yet, when people speak of him, more info they don’t talk about opinions or positions. They speak primarily of his consistency. He served as a stationary reference point amidst a sea of change I am uncertain how such stability can be achieved without becoming dogmatic. That particular harmony feels incredibly rare
A small scene continues to replay in my thoughts, 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 person may not have been Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw himself. The mind often fuses different individuals in memory. But the feeling stuck. The sense of total freedom from the world's expectations.
I frequently ponder the price of living such a life. Not in a dramatic sense. Just the daily cost. The quiet sacrifices that don’t look like sacrifices from the outside. 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. Perhaps he was free of such concerns, and maybe that's the key.
I notice dust on my fingers from the old volume. I remove the dust without much thought. Composing this reflection feels somewhat gratuitous, but in a good way. Not all reflections need to serve a specific purpose. Sometimes, the simple act of acknowledgement is enough. that particular individuals leave a lasting mark. without the need for self-justification. To me, Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw embodies that quality. A presence that is felt more deeply than it is understood, and perhaps it is meant to remain that way.