It is often a minor detail that sets it off. The trigger today was the sound of paper sticking together while I was browsing through an old book kept on a shelf too close to the window. Humidity does that. I found myself hesitating for a long moment, carefully detaching the sheets individually, and in that stillness, his name reappeared unprompted.
One finds a unique attribute in esteemed figures like the Sayadaw. Their presence is seldom seen in a literal manner. If seen at all, it is typically from a remote perspective, filtered through stories, recollections, half-remembered quotes which lack a definitive source. My knowledge of Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw seems rooted in his silences. Without grandiosity, without speed, and without the need for clarification. Such silences communicate more than a multitude of words.
I once remember posing a question to someone regarding his character. Without directness or any sense of formality. Simply a passing remark, like a comment on the climate. The person gave a nod and a faint smile, then remarked “Ah, Sayadaw… always so steady.” There was no further explanation given. At first, I felt a little unsatisfied with the answer. In hindsight, I see that reply as being flawless.
The time is currently mid-afternoon in my location. The ambient light is unremarkable, devoid of any drama I’m sitting on the floor instead of the chair for no real reason. Maybe my back wanted a different kind of complaint today. I keep pondering the idea of being steady and the rarity of that quality. Wisdom is often praised, but steadiness feels like the more arduous path. Wisdom can be admired from afar. Steadiness, however, must be embodied in one's daily existence.
Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw navigated a lifetime of constant change Changes in politics and society, the gradual decay and rapid reconstruction which defines the historical arc of modern Burma. And yet, when people speak of him, they don’t talk about opinions or positions. 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. That particular harmony feels incredibly rare
A small scene continues to replay in my thoughts, even though I cannot verify if the memory matches the reality. A bhikkhu slowly and methodically adjusting his traditional robes, as if there was more info no other place he needed to be. That person may not have been Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw himself. Recollections have a way of blending people's identities. But the feeling stuck. 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 dramatic sense. Just the daily cost. The quiet sacrifices that don’t look like sacrifices from the outside. The dialogues that were never held. Letting misunderstandings stand. Allowing people to see in you whatever they require I cannot say if he ever pondered these things. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe that’s the point.
There is a layer of dust on my hands from the paper. I wipe it away without thinking. Writing this feels slightly unnecessary, and I mean that in a good way. Not everything has to be useful. At times, it is enough just to admit. that specific lives leave a profound imprint. never having sought to explain their own nature. Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw feels very much like that to me. An influence that is experienced rather than analyzed, as it should be.