It is often a minor detail that sets it off. In this instance, it was the noise of pages adhering to one another when I tried to flip through an old book left beside the window for too long. It's a common result of humidity. I stopped for a duration that felt excessive, ungluing each page with care, and in that stillness, his name reappeared unprompted.
There is a peculiar quality to revered personalities such as his. You don’t actually see them very much. Perhaps their presence is only felt from a great distance, conveyed via narratives, memories, and fragmented sayings which are difficult to attribute exactly. With Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, I feel like I know him mostly through absences. The absence of spectacle. The absence of urgency. The absence of explanation. In many ways, these absences are more descriptive than any language
I recall an occasion when I inquired about him. In an indirect and informal manner. Merely an incidental inquiry, as if discussing the day's weather. The individual inclined their head, gave a slight smile, and replied “Ah, the Sayadaw… he is very stable.” That was it. No elaboration. At the moment, I felt somewhat underwhelmed. Looking back, I realize the answer was ideal.
It is now mid-afternoon where I sit. The ambient light is unremarkable, devoid of any drama I am positioned on the floor rather than in a chair, quite arbitrarily. Perhaps my spine desired a different sort of challenge this morning. 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, however, must be embodied in one's daily existence.
Throughout his years, Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw endured vast shifts 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 They speak primarily of his consistency. As if he was a reference point that didn’t move while everything else did. How one avoids rigidity while remaining so constant is a mystery to me. That level of balance seems nearly impossible to maintain.
There is a particular moment that keeps recurring in my mind, even though I cannot verify if the memory matches the reality. A bhikkhu meticulously and slowly adjusting his attire, as though he were in no hurry to go anywhere else. That might not even have been Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw. Memory blurs people together. But the sense of the moment remained strong. The sense of total freedom from the world's expectations.
I find myself questioning the personal toll of being such an individual. I do not mean in a grand way, but in the small details of each day. The quiet offerings that others might not even recognize as sacrifices. Choosing not to engage in certain conversations. Allowing misconceptions to go uncorrected. Allowing others to project whatever they need onto you. I am unsure if he ever contemplated these issues. Perhaps he was free of such concerns, and maybe that's the key.
There is a layer of dust on more info 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. Not everything has to be useful. Sometimes, the simple act of acknowledgement is enough. that certain lives leave an imprint without ever attempting to provide an explanation. Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw feels like that to me. An influence that is experienced rather than analyzed, as it should be.