A tiny spark is usually enough to ignite the memory. The trigger today was the sound of paper sticking together while I was browsing through an old book left beside the window for too long. That is the effect of damp air. I paused longer than necessary, ungluing each page with care, and somehow his name surfaced again, quietly, without asking.
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, viewed through a lens of stories, memories, and vague citations that remain hard to verify. 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. In an indirect and informal manner. Only an offhand query, no different from asking about the rain. They nodded, offered a small smile, and uttered something along the lines of “Ah, the Sayadaw… he is very stable.” That was it. No elaboration. Initially, I experienced a touch of letdown. Now I think that response was perfect.
The time is currently mid-afternoon in my location. The light is dull, not golden, not dramatic. Just light. For no particular reason, I am seated on the floor instead of the furniture. Perhaps my spine desired a different sort of challenge this morning. I am reflecting on the nature of steadiness and how seldom it is found. Wisdom is a frequent topic of discussion, yet steadiness seems more difficult to achieve. One can appreciate wisdom from a great distance. Steadiness has to be lived next to, day after day.
Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw witnessed immense transformations during his life. Changes in politics and society, the gradual decay and rapid reconstruction that characterizes the modern history of Burma. Yet, when individuals recall his life, they don't emphasize his perspectives or allegiances They talk about consistency. He was like a fixed coordinate in a landscape of constant motion. I’m not sure how someone manages that without becoming rigid. Achieving that equilibrium seems nearly unachievable.
There is a particular moment that keeps recurring in my mind, even if I am uncertain if my recollection is entirely accurate. A bhikkhu meticulously and slowly adjusting his attire, as if he were entirely free from any sense of urgency. Perhaps that monk was not Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw at all. People are often blurred together in the landscape of memory. Nonetheless, the impression remained. That feeling of being unhurried by the expectations of the world.
I find myself wondering, often, what it costs to be that kind of person. Not in a dramatic fashion, but in the simple cost of daily existence. Silent sacrifices that do not seem like losses to the casual eye. Choosing not to engage in certain conversations. Allowing false impressions to persist without rebuttal. Allowing click here others to project whatever they need onto you. I cannot say if he ever pondered these things. Perhaps he was free of such concerns, and maybe that's the key.
There is a layer of dust on my hands from the paper. I remove the dust without much thought. The act of writing this feels almost superfluous, and I say that with respect. Utility is not the only measure of value. Sometimes it’s enough to acknowledge that certain existences leave a lasting trace. without the need for self-justification. To me, Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw embodies that quality. An influence that is experienced rather than analyzed, as it should be.