It is often a minor detail that sets it off. This particular time, the sound of sticky pages was the cause when I tried to flip through an old book that’s been sitting too close to the window. Moisture has a way of doing that. I found myself hesitating for a long moment, ungluing each page with care, and his name simply manifested again, quiet and unbidden.
Respected individuals of his stature often possess a strange aura. One rarely encounters them in a direct sense. Or maybe you see them, but only from a distance, filtered through stories, recollections, half-remembered 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. In many ways, these absences are more descriptive than any language
I once remember posing a question to someone regarding his character. In a casual, non-formal tone. Just a lighthearted question, much like an observation of the sky. The individual inclined their head, gave a slight smile, and replied “Ah, the Sayadaw… he is very stable.” The conversation ended there, without any expansion. At first, I felt a little unsatisfied with the answer. Today, I consider that answer to have been entirely appropriate.
It’s mid-afternoon where I am. The light is dull, not golden, not dramatic. Just light. 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 a frequent topic of discussion, yet steadiness seems more difficult to achieve. 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. Shifts in the political and social landscape, alongside the constant flux of rebuilding which appears to be the hallmark of contemporary Myanmar's history. Nevertheless, discussions about him rarely focus on his views or stances. They speak primarily of his 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. That balance feels almost impossible.
I frequently return to a specific, minor memory, even though I cannot verify if the memory matches the reality. A monk adjusting his robe, slowly, carefully, as though he possessed all the time in the world. 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. The sense of total freedom from the world's expectations.
I often ask myself what the cost of that specific character might be. Not in a grand sense, but in the mundane daily sacrifices. Those silent concessions that are invisible to the external observer. Choosing not to engage in certain conversations. Permitting errors in perception to remain. Accepting the projections of others without complaint. I am unsure if he ever contemplated these issues. Perhaps he was free of such concerns, and maybe that's the key.
My hands have become dusty from handling the book. I clean my hands in an unthinking manner. Writing these words feels a bit unnecessary, and I mean that kindly. Not everything needs to have a clear use. Sometimes it’s enough to acknowledge that certain lives leave an imprint without click here ever trying to explain themselves. Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw is such a figure in my eyes. A presence felt more than understood, and maybe meant to stay that way.