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 placed too near the window pane. That is the effect of damp air. My pause was more extended than required, pulling the pages apart one at a time, and in that stillness, his name reappeared unprompted.
There’s something strange about respected figures like him. Their presence is seldom seen in a literal manner. If seen at all, it is typically from a remote perspective, transmitted through anecdotes, reminiscences, and partial quotations whose origins have become blurred over time. In the case of Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, I perceive him through his voids. Without grandiosity, without speed, and without the need for clarification. In many ways, these absences are more descriptive than any language
I remember once asking someone about him. It wasn't a direct or official inquiry. Simply a passing remark, like a comment on the climate. My companion nodded, smiled gently, and noted “Ah, Sayadaw… he possesses great steadiness.” 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.
Currently, the sun is in its mid-afternoon position. The light is dull, not golden, not dramatic. Just light. For no particular reason, I am seated on the floor instead of the furniture. Maybe I am testing a new type of physical strain today. My thoughts return to the concept of stability and its scarcity. Wisdom is often praised, but steadiness feels like the more arduous path. Wisdom can be admired from afar. Steadiness requires a presence that is maintained day in and day out.
Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw witnessed immense here transformations during his life. Political upheavals, societal transitions, and cycles of erosion and renewal which appears to be the hallmark of contemporary Myanmar's history. Nevertheless, discussions about him rarely focus on his views or stances. They talk about 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. Achieving that equilibrium seems nearly unachievable.
A small scene continues to replay in my thoughts, even though I cannot verify if the memory matches the reality. A monk taking great care to fix his robe in a slow manner, with the air of someone who had no other destination in mind. That person may not have been Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw himself. The mind often fuses different individuals in memory. 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. Not in a grand sense, but in the mundane daily sacrifices. Those silent concessions that are invisible to the external observer. Remaining silent when one could have spoken. Permitting errors in perception to remain. Allowing others to project whatever they need onto you. I do not know if such thoughts ever entered his mind. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe that’s the point.
My hands are now covered in dust from the old book. I wipe it away without thinking. Composing this reflection feels somewhat gratuitous, but in a good way. Utility is not the only measure of value. Occasionally, it is adequate to merely acknowledge. that certain existences leave a lasting trace. without ever trying to explain themselves. I perceive Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw in exactly that way. An influence that is experienced rather than analyzed, as it should be.