Something small triggers it. This particular time, the sound of sticky pages was the cause while I was browsing through an old book kept on a shelf too close to the window. It's a common result of humidity. I stopped for a duration that felt excessive, methodically dividing each page, and his name emerged once more, silent and uninvited.
Respected individuals of his stature often possess a strange aura. You don’t actually see them very much. One might see them, yet only from a detached viewpoint, conveyed via narratives, memories, and fragmented sayings which lack a definitive source. In the case of Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, I perceive him through his voids. Devoid of theatricality, devoid of pressure, and devoid of excuse. And those absences say more than most words ever could.
I remember seeking another's perspective on him once In a casual, non-formal tone. Merely an incidental inquiry, as if discussing the day's weather. 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 the moment, I felt somewhat underwhelmed. In hindsight, I see that reply as being flawless.
It is now mid-afternoon where I sit. The room is filled with a neutral, unornamented light. For no particular reason, I am seated on the floor instead of the furniture. Perhaps my body sought a new form of discomfort today. I find myself contemplating steadiness and its actual uniqueness. Wisdom is a frequent topic of discussion, yet steadiness seems more difficult to achieve. Wisdom is something we can respect from the outside. Steadiness must be lived in close proximity, throughout each day.
Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw lived through so much change. Changes in politics and society, click here the gradual decay and rapid reconstruction that has come to represent modern Burmese history. Despite this, when he is mentioned, it is not for his political or personal opinions They emphasize his remarkable consistency. He served as a stationary reference point amidst a sea of change It is hard to grasp how he avoided rigidity while staying so firm. Such a balance appears almost beyond human capability.
I find myself mentally revisiting a brief instant, although I am not certain the event occurred exactly as I recall. A monk taking great care to fix his robe in a slow manner, as if there was no other place he needed to be. That person may not have been Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw himself. Memory blurs people together. However, the emotion associated with it persisted. That impression of not being hurried by external pressures.
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 offerings that others might not even recognize as sacrifices. Choosing not to engage in certain conversations. Accepting that others may misunderstand you. Letting others project their own expectations onto your silence. Whether he reflected on these matters is unknown to me. Perhaps he did not, and perhaps that is exactly the essence.
There is a layer of dust on my hands from the paper. I brush it off absentmindedly. Writing this feels slightly unnecessary, and I mean that in a good way. Utility is not the only measure of value. Sometimes, the simple act of acknowledgement is enough. that particular individuals leave a lasting mark. without feeling the need to explain their own existence. 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.