Something small triggers it. Tonight, it was the subtle sound of pages clinging together while I was browsing through an old book kept on a shelf too close to the window. Moisture has a way of doing that. My pause was more extended than required, methodically dividing each page, and his name drifted back to me, softly and without warning.
One finds a unique attribute in esteemed figures like the Sayadaw. One rarely encounters them in a direct sense. Or perhaps they are perceived only from afar, filtered through stories, recollections, half-remembered quotes that no one can quite place. When I think of Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, he is defined by his absences. Devoid of theatricality, devoid of pressure, and devoid of excuse. Those missing elements convey a deeper truth than most rhetoric.
I once remember posing a question to someone regarding his character. In an indirect and informal manner. Simply a passing remark, like a comment on the climate. They nodded, offered a small smile, and uttered something along the lines of “Ah, Sayadaw… very steady.” That was the extent of it, with no further detail. At the moment, I felt somewhat underwhelmed. Now I think that response was perfect.
Currently, the sun is in its mid-afternoon position. The room is filled with a neutral, unornamented light. I find myself sitting on the floor today, for no identifiable cause. Perhaps my spine desired a different sort of challenge this morning. 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 must be lived in close proximity, throughout each day.
Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw witnessed immense transformations during his life. Political shifts, social shifts, the slow erosion and sudden rebuilding that has come to represent modern Burmese history. Nevertheless, discussions about him rarely focus on his views or stances. They talk about 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. Achieving that equilibrium seems nearly unachievable.
There is a particular moment that keeps recurring in my mind, although I am not certain the event occurred exactly as I recall. A monk taking great care to fix his robe in a slow manner, website as if there was no other place he needed to be. It is possible that the figure was not actually Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw. The mind often fuses different individuals in memory. But the sense of the moment remained strong. That impression of not being hurried by external pressures.
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 offerings that others might not even recognize as sacrifices. The dialogues that were never held. Letting misunderstandings stand. Allowing people to see in you whatever they require I cannot say if he ever pondered 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 clean my hands in an unthinking manner. Writing this feels slightly unnecessary, and I mean that 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 the need for self-justification. Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw feels very much like that to me. An aura that is sensed rather than understood, and perhaps intended to remain so.