The smallest trigger can bring it back. This time it was the sound of pages sticking together while I was browsing through an old book placed too near the window pane. That is the effect of damp air. I stopped for a duration that felt excessive, methodically dividing each page, and in that stillness, his name reappeared unprompted.
One finds a unique attribute in esteemed figures like the Sayadaw. One rarely encounters them in a direct sense. 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. My knowledge of Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw seems rooted in his silences. A lack of showmanship, a lack of haste, and a lack of justification. Such silences communicate more than a multitude of words.
I remember once asking someone about him. It wasn't a direct or official inquiry. Simply a passing remark, like a comment on the climate. My companion nodded, smiled gently, and noted “Ah, Sayadaw… always so steady.” There was no further explanation given. At the time, I felt slightly disappointed. Today, I consider that answer to have been entirely appropriate.
Currently, the sun is in its mid-afternoon position. The room is filled with a neutral, unornamented light. I have chosen to sit on the ground rather than the seat, without a specific motive. Perhaps my spine desired a different sort of challenge this morning. I am reflecting on the nature of steadiness and how seldom it is found. We prioritize the mention of wisdom, but steadiness is arguably more demanding. One can appreciate wisdom from a great distance. Steadiness, however, must be embodied in one's daily existence.
Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw navigated a lifetime of constant change 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 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 level of balance seems nearly impossible to maintain.
I find myself mentally revisiting a brief instant, although I am not certain the event occurred exactly as I recall. A bhikkhu slowly and methodically adjusting his traditional robes, as if there was no other place he needed to be. That might not even have been Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw. Memory tends to merge separate figures over time. Nonetheless, the impression remained. The feeling of being unburdened by the demands of society.
I often reflect on the sacrifices required to be a person of that nature. Not in a dramatic sense. Just the daily cost. The subtle sacrifices that appear unremarkable to others. Remaining silent when one could have spoken. Accepting that others may misunderstand you. Permitting individuals to superimpose their own needs upon your image. I cannot say if he ever pondered these things. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe that’s the point.
I notice dust on my fingers from the old volume. I clean my hands in an unthinking manner. Composing these thoughts seems somewhat redundant, in a positive sense. Not all reflections need to serve a read more specific purpose. On occasion, it is sufficient simply to recognize. that some lives leave a deep impression. without ever trying to explain themselves. Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw feels like that to me. A presence that is felt more deeply than it is understood, and perhaps it is meant to remain that way.