It is often a minor detail that sets it off. This particular time, the sound of sticky pages was the cause as I attempted to leaf through an ancient volume that’s been sitting too close to the window. Such is the nature of humid conditions. I paused longer than necessary, separating the pages one by one, and his name drifted back to me, softly and without warning.
There is a peculiar quality to revered personalities such as his. One rarely encounters them in a direct sense. Or perhaps they are perceived only from afar, filtered through stories, recollections, half-remembered quotes that no one can quite place. When I think of Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, he is defined by his 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 a casual, non-formal tone. Simply a passing remark, like a comment on the climate. The individual inclined their head, gave a slight smile, and replied “Ah, Sayadaw… very steady.” That was the extent of it, with no further detail. At the time, I felt slightly disappointed. Now, I recognize the perfection in that brief response.
Currently, the sun is in its mid-afternoon position. The ambient light is unremarkable, devoid of any drama I’m sitting on the floor instead of the chair for no real reason. Perhaps my body sought a new form of discomfort today. I keep pondering the idea of being steady and the rarity of that quality. Wisdom is a frequent topic of discussion, yet steadiness seems more difficult to achieve. Wisdom is something we can respect from get more info the outside. Steadiness has to be lived next to, day after day.
The life of Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw spanned an era of great upheaval. Transitions in power and culture, the slow wearing away and the sudden rise which defines the historical arc of modern Burma. And still, when he is the subject of conversation, people don't dwell on his beliefs or stances. They focus on the consistency of his character. He served as a stationary reference point amidst a sea of change I am uncertain how such stability can be achieved without becoming dogmatic. That level of balance seems nearly impossible to maintain.
I frequently return to a specific, minor memory, even if I am uncertain if my recollection is entirely accurate. A bhikkhu meticulously and slowly adjusting his attire, as though he possessed all the time in the world. That might not even have been Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw. The mind often fuses different individuals in memory. But the underlying feeling stayed with me. 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 dramatic sense. Just the daily cost. Silent sacrifices that do not seem like losses to the casual eye. Remaining silent when one could have spoken. Allowing false impressions to persist without rebuttal. Permitting individuals to superimpose their own needs upon your image. 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. Composing these thoughts seems somewhat redundant, in a positive sense. Not everything has to be useful. Sometimes it’s enough to acknowledge that specific lives leave a profound imprint. without the need for self-justification. Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw feels very much like that to me. A presence felt more than understood, and maybe meant to stay that way.