It is often a minor detail that sets it off. The trigger today was the sound of paper sticking together as I attempted to leaf through an ancient volume that’s been sitting 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 drifted back to me, softly and without warning.
There is something enigmatic about figures of such respect. Their presence is seldom seen in a literal manner. If seen at all, it is typically from a remote perspective, conveyed via narratives, memories, and fragmented sayings that remain hard to verify. 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. Such silences communicate more than a multitude of words.
I remember once asking someone about him. In an indirect and informal manner. Simply a passing remark, like a comment on the climate. The person gave a nod and a faint smile, then remarked “Ah, the Sayadaw… he is very stable.” The conversation ended there, without any expansion. At first, I felt a little unsatisfied with the answer. Looking back, I realize the answer was ideal.
It is now mid-afternoon where I sit. 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. Perhaps my body sought a new form of discomfort today. My thoughts return to the concept of stability and its scarcity. We talk about wisdom a lot, but steadiness feels harder. It is easy to admire wisdom from a distance. Steadiness has to be lived next to, day after day.
Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw witnessed immense transformations during his life. Political upheavals, societal transitions, and cycles of erosion and renewal that characterizes the modern history of 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 How one avoids rigidity while remaining so constant is a mystery to me. Such a balance appears almost beyond human capability.
I find myself mentally revisiting a brief instant, even though I cannot verify if the memory matches the reality. A monk adjusting his robe, slowly, carefully, with the air of someone who had no other click here destination in mind. That person may not have been Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw himself. Memory tends to merge separate figures over time. Nonetheless, the impression remained. That sense of not being rushed by the world’s expectations.
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 subtle sacrifices that appear unremarkable to others. Choosing not to engage in certain conversations. Letting misunderstandings stand. Allowing people to see in you whatever they require I do not know if such thoughts ever entered his mind. It could be that he didn't, and that may be the very heart of it.
My hands have become dusty from handling the book. I wipe it away without thinking. Writing these words feels a bit unnecessary, and I mean that kindly. Not everything needs to have a clear use. At times, it is enough just to admit. that specific lives leave a profound imprint. without ever trying to explain themselves. Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw feels very much like that to me. A presence that is felt more deeply than it is understood, and perhaps it is meant to remain that way.