Often, a trivial event serves as the catalyst. This time it was the sound of pages sticking together as I attempted to leaf through an ancient volume kept on a shelf too close to the window. Such is the nature of humid conditions. My pause was more extended than required, ungluing each page with care, 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, conveyed via narratives, memories, and fragmented sayings which lack a definitive source. When I think of Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, he is defined by his absences. The void of drama, the void of rush, and the void of commentary. Such silences communicate more than a multitude of words.
I recall an occasion when I inquired about him. It wasn't a direct or official inquiry. Only an offhand query, no different from asking about the rain. The person gave a nod and a faint smile, then remarked “Ah, the Sayadaw… he is very stable.” That was it. No elaboration. At first, I felt a little unsatisfied with the answer. Now I think that response was perfect.
Here, it is the middle of the afternoon. The light is dull, not golden, not dramatic. Just light. I have chosen to sit on the ground rather than the seat, without a specific motive. Maybe I am testing a new type of physical strain today. 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. It is easy to admire wisdom from a distance. Steadiness requires a presence that is maintained day in and day out.
Throughout his years, Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw endured vast shifts Political upheavals, societal transitions, and cycles of erosion and renewal which appears to be the hallmark of contemporary Myanmar's history. And still, when he is the subject of conversation, people don't dwell on his beliefs or stances. They focus on the consistency of his character. He served as a stationary reference point amidst a sea of change How one avoids rigidity while remaining so constant is a mystery to me. That balance feels almost impossible.
I frequently return to a specific, minor memory, although I am not certain the event occurred exactly as I recall. An image of a monk arranging his robes with great deliberation, 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 underlying feeling stayed with me. The feeling of being unburdened by the demands of society.
I find myself wondering, often, what it costs to be that kind of person. I do not mean in a grand way, but in the small details of each day. The quiet sacrifices that don’t look like sacrifices from the outside. Forgoing interactions that might have taken place. Accepting that others may misunderstand you. Accepting the projections of others without complaint. I am unsure if he ever contemplated these issues. 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 this reflection feels somewhat gratuitous, but in a good way. There is no requirement for every thought to be practical. At times, it is enough just to admit. that certain existences leave a lasting trace. never having sought to explain their more info own nature. Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw feels very much like that to me. A presence felt more than understood, and maybe meant to stay that way.