A tiny spark is usually enough to ignite the memory. This time it was the sound of pages sticking together as I turned the pages of a long-neglected book kept on a shelf too close to the window. That is the effect of damp air. My pause was more extended than required, separating the pages one by one, and his name simply manifested again, quiet and unbidden.
Respected individuals of his stature often possess a strange aura. They are not frequently seen in the public eye. If seen at all, it is typically from a remote perspective, perceived via the medium of lore, recollections, and broken quotes which lack a definitive source. Regarding Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, my understanding comes primarily from what is missing. A lack of showmanship, a lack of haste, and a lack of justification. Those missing elements convey a deeper truth than most rhetoric.
I recall asking a person about him on one occasion. Without directness or any sense of formality. 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… he possesses great steadiness.” That was the extent of it, with no further detail. At first, I felt a little unsatisfied with the answer. Now I think that response was perfect.
The time is currently mid-afternoon in my location. The day is filled with a muted, unexceptional 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. We prioritize the mention of wisdom, but steadiness is arguably more demanding. It is easy to admire wisdom from a distance. Steadiness requires a presence that is maintained day in and day out.
Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw lived through so much change. Transitions in power and culture, the slow wearing away and the sudden rise that characterizes the modern history of Burma. Despite this, when he is mentioned, it is not for his political or personal opinions They speak primarily of his consistency. As if he were a permanent landmark that stayed still while the environment fluctuated. I am uncertain how such stability can be achieved without becoming dogmatic. Such a balance appears almost beyond human capability.
A small scene continues to replay in my thoughts, even if I am uncertain if my recollection is entirely accurate. A monk adjusting his robe, slowly, carefully, as if he were entirely free from any sense of urgency. Perhaps that monk was not Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw at all. Memory tends to merge separate figures over time. However, the emotion associated with it persisted. That impression of not being hurried by external pressures.
I often ask myself what the cost of that specific character might be. Not in a grand sense, but in the mundane daily website sacrifices. The subtle sacrifices that appear unremarkable to others. Remaining silent when one could have spoken. Letting misunderstandings stand. Allowing people to see in you whatever they require Whether he reflected on these matters is unknown to me. Perhaps he did not, and perhaps that is exactly the essence.
My hands are now covered in dust from the old book. I remove the dust without much thought. Writing this feels slightly unnecessary, and I mean that in a good way. Utility is not the only measure of value. Occasionally, it is adequate to merely acknowledge. that specific lives leave a profound imprint. without ever trying to explain themselves. Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw feels like that to me. A presence felt more than understood, and maybe meant to stay that way.