The smallest trigger can bring it back. The trigger today was the sound of paper sticking together when I reached for a weathered book placed too near the window pane. That is the effect of damp air. I found myself hesitating for a long moment, separating the pages one by one, and in that stillness, his name reappeared unprompted.
Respected individuals of his stature often possess a strange aura. You don’t actually see them very much. Or maybe you see them, but only from a distance, conveyed via narratives, memories, and fragmented sayings which are difficult to attribute exactly. My knowledge of Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw seems rooted in his silences. The void of drama, the void of rush, and the void of commentary. Those missing elements convey a deeper truth than most rhetoric.
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. The person nodded, smiled a little, and said something like, “Ah, Sayadaw… he possesses great steadiness.” The conversation ended there, without any expansion. At the moment, I felt somewhat underwhelmed. Now I think that response was perfect.
Here, it is the middle of the afternoon. The room is filled with a neutral, unornamented light. I am positioned on the floor rather than in a chair, quite arbitrarily. Perhaps my body sought a new form of discomfort today. I find myself contemplating steadiness and its actual uniqueness. We talk about wisdom a lot, but steadiness feels harder. One can appreciate wisdom from a great distance. Steadiness must be lived in close proximity, throughout each day.
Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw navigated a lifetime of constant change Shifts in the political and social landscape, alongside the constant flux of rebuilding 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. 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. That particular harmony feels incredibly rare
I find myself mentally revisiting a brief instant, although I am not certain the event occurred exactly as I recall. An image of a monk arranging his robes with great deliberation, as though he were in no hurry to go anywhere else. Perhaps that monk was not Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw at all. The tharmanay kyaw 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 often reflect on the sacrifices required to be a person of that nature. Not in a grand sense, but in the mundane daily sacrifices. Silent sacrifices that do not seem like losses to the casual eye. Forgoing interactions that might have taken place. Permitting errors in perception to remain. Allowing others to project whatever they need onto you. Whether he reflected on these matters is unknown to me. Maybe he was beyond such thoughts, which could be the entire point.
My hands are now covered in dust from the old book. I clean my hands in an unthinking manner. Writing these words feels a bit unnecessary, and I mean that kindly. Not all reflections need to serve a specific purpose. Sometimes, the simple act of acknowledgement is enough. that particular individuals leave a lasting mark. without ever trying to explain themselves. Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw feels like that to me. An aura that is sensed rather than understood, and perhaps intended to remain so.