A tiny spark is usually enough to ignite the memory. In this instance, it was the noise of pages adhering to one another when I tried to flip through an old book placed too near the window pane. Humidity does that. I found myself hesitating for a long moment, separating the pages one by one, and in that stillness, his name reappeared unprompted.
There is something enigmatic about figures of such respect. They are not frequently seen in the public eye. Perhaps their presence is only felt from a great distance, transmitted through anecdotes, reminiscences, and partial quotations that remain hard to verify. My knowledge of Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw seems rooted in his silences. Without grandiosity, without speed, and without the need for clarification. Such silences communicate more than a multitude of words.
I recall asking a person about him on one occasion. In a casual, non-formal tone. Simply a passing remark, like a comment on the climate. They nodded, offered a small smile, and uttered something along the lines of “Ah, Sayadaw… very steady.” That was it. No elaboration. Initially, I experienced a touch of letdown. Looking back, I realize the answer was ideal.
Here, it is the middle of the afternoon. The room is filled with a neutral, unornamented light. For no particular reason, I am seated on the floor instead of the furniture. Perhaps my body sought a new form of discomfort today. I keep thinking about steadiness, about how rare it actually is. We talk about wisdom a lot, but steadiness feels harder. Wisdom is something we can respect from the outside. Steadiness requires a presence that is maintained day in and day out.
Throughout his years, Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw endured vast shifts Transitions in power and culture, the slow wearing away and the sudden rise that characterizes the modern history of Burma. And yet, when people speak of him, they don’t talk about opinions or positions. Instead, they highlight his unwavering nature. He served as a stationary reference point amidst a sea of change It is difficult to understand how one can maintain that state without turning stiff. That level of balance seems nearly impossible to maintain.
There is a particular moment that keeps recurring in my mind, although I cannot be sure my memory of it is perfectly true. A bhikkhu meticulously and slowly adjusting his attire, as if there was no other place he needed to be. It might have been another individual, not Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw. People are often blurred together in the landscape of memory. But the sense of the moment remained strong. That impression of not being hurried by external pressures.
I often ask myself what the cost of that specific character might be. Not in a dramatic fashion, but in the simple cost of daily existence. The quiet offerings that others might not even recognize as sacrifices. Missing conversations you could have had. Allowing false impressions to persist without rebuttal. Allowing people to see in you whatever they require I do not know if such thoughts ever entered his mind. Perhaps he did not, and click here perhaps that is exactly the essence.
I notice dust on my fingers from the old volume. I clean my hands in an unthinking manner. Composing this reflection feels somewhat gratuitous, but in a good way. Utility is not the only measure of value. Sometimes, the simple act of acknowledgement is enough. that certain existences leave a lasting trace. without ever attempting to provide an explanation. To me, Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw embodies that quality. An influence that is experienced rather than analyzed, as it should be.