Often, a trivial event serves as the catalyst. In this instance, it was the noise of pages adhering to one another when I reached for a weathered book placed too near the window pane. Humidity does that. I paused longer than necessary, separating the pages one by one, and somehow his name surfaced again, quietly, without asking.
There is a peculiar quality to revered personalities such as his. One rarely encounters them in a direct sense. Or perhaps they are perceived only from afar, transmitted through anecdotes, reminiscences, and partial quotations which are difficult to attribute exactly. With Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, I feel like I know him mostly through absences. Without grandiosity, without speed, and without the need for clarification. Those missing elements convey a deeper truth than most rhetoric.
I once remember posing a question to someone regarding his character. It wasn't a direct or official inquiry. Just a casual question, as if I were asking about the weather. The individual inclined their head, gave a slight smile, and replied “Ah, Sayadaw… remarkably consistent.” There was no further explanation given. Initially, I experienced a touch of letdown. Now I think that response was perfect.
It is now mid-afternoon where I sit. The day is filled with a muted, unexceptional light. I’m sitting on the floor instead of the chair for no real reason. It could be that my back was looking for a different sensation this afternoon. I keep thinking about steadiness, about how rare it actually is. Wisdom is a frequent topic of discussion, yet steadiness seems more difficult to achieve. Wisdom can be admired from afar. Steadiness has to be lived next to, day after day.
Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw navigated a lifetime of constant change Political upheavals, societal transitions, and cycles of erosion and renewal that has come to represent modern Burmese history. Yet, when individuals recall his life, they don't emphasize his perspectives or allegiances They focus on the consistency of his character. As if he were a permanent landmark that stayed still while the environment fluctuated. It is hard to grasp how he avoided rigidity while staying so firm. Such a balance appears almost beyond human capability.
There’s a small moment I keep replaying, though I can’t even be sure it really happened the way I remember it. A bhikkhu slowly and methodically adjusting his traditional robes, as though he possessed all the time in the world. It is possible that the figure was not actually Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw. Memory blurs people together. But the sense of the moment remained strong. 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, check here but in the subtle daily price. The quiet offerings that others might not even recognize as sacrifices. Forgoing interactions that might have taken place. Accepting that others may misunderstand you. Allowing people to see in you whatever they require I don’t know if he thought about these things. It could be that he didn't, and that may be the very heart of it.
There is a layer of dust on my hands from the paper. I brush the dust off in a distracted way Writing these words feels a bit unnecessary, and I mean that kindly. Utility is not the only measure of value. On occasion, it is sufficient simply to recognize. that certain existences leave a lasting trace. without ever trying to explain themselves. Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw is such a figure in my eyes. A presence to be felt rather than comprehended, perhaps by design.