A tiny spark is usually enough to ignite the memory. This time it was the sound of pages sticking together as I turned the pages of a long-neglected book resting in proximity to the window. That is the effect of damp air. I found myself hesitating for a long moment, carefully detaching the sheets individually, and his name simply manifested again, quiet and unbidden.
Respected individuals of his stature often possess a strange aura. Their presence is seldom seen in a literal manner. Perhaps their presence is only felt from a great distance, filtered through stories, recollections, half-remembered quotes which lack a definitive source. Regarding Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, my understanding comes primarily from what is missing. Devoid of theatricality, devoid of pressure, and devoid of excuse. Such silences communicate more than a multitude of words.
I once remember posing a question to someone regarding his character. It wasn't a direct or official inquiry. 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 all—no further commentary was provided. At the time, I felt slightly disappointed. Now I think that response was perfect.
The time is currently mid-afternoon in my location. The room is filled with a neutral, unornamented light. I am positioned on the floor rather than in a chair, quite arbitrarily. Maybe I am testing a new type of physical strain today. I keep pondering the idea of being steady and the rarity of that quality. We prioritize the mention of wisdom, but steadiness is arguably more demanding. Wisdom is something we can respect from the outside. 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 has come to represent modern Burmese history. Despite this, when he is mentioned, it is not for his political or personal opinions Instead, they highlight his unwavering nature. He was like a fixed coordinate in a landscape of constant motion. I am uncertain how such stability can be achieved without becoming dogmatic. Achieving that equilibrium seems nearly unachievable.
I frequently return to a specific, minor memory, although I cannot be sure my memory of it is perfectly true. A monk taking great care to fix his robe in a slow manner, as if he click here were entirely free from any sense of urgency. That person may not have been Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw himself. Recollections have a way of blending people's identities. But the feeling stuck. That impression of not being hurried by external pressures.
I find myself questioning the personal toll of being such an individual. Not in a grand sense, but in the mundane daily sacrifices. 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. Accepting the projections of others without complaint. Whether he reflected on these matters is unknown to me. 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 clean my hands in an unthinking manner. Writing this feels slightly unnecessary, and I mean that in a good way. Not all reflections need to serve a specific purpose. On occasion, it is sufficient simply to recognize. that particular individuals leave a lasting mark. without ever attempting to provide an explanation. Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw is such a figure in my eyes. A presence felt more than understood, and maybe meant to stay that way.