Something small triggers it. This time it was the sound of pages sticking together when I tried to flip through an old book resting in proximity to the window. Humidity does that. I found myself hesitating for a long moment, carefully detaching the sheets individually, and his name simply manifested again, quiet and unbidden.
Respected individuals of his stature often possess a strange aura. Their presence is seldom seen in a literal manner. Or maybe you see them, but only from a distance, perceived via the medium of lore, recollections, and broken quotes which are difficult to attribute exactly. In the case of Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, I perceive him through his voids. The absence of spectacle. The absence of urgency. The absence of explanation. 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. Merely an incidental inquiry, as if discussing the day's weather. They nodded, offered a small smile, and uttered something along the lines of “Ah, the Sayadaw… he is very stable.” That was the extent of it, with no further detail. At the moment, I felt somewhat underwhelmed. Now, I recognize the perfection in that brief response.
Currently, the sun is in its mid-afternoon position. The room is filled with a neutral, unornamented light. I find myself sitting on the floor today, for no identifiable cause. It could be that my back was looking for a different sensation this afternoon. I find myself contemplating steadiness and its actual uniqueness. Wisdom is a frequent topic of discussion, yet steadiness seems more difficult to achieve. 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 Changes in politics and society, the gradual decay and rapid reconstruction which appears to be the hallmark of contemporary Myanmar's history. Despite this, when he is mentioned, it is not for his political or personal opinions They focus on the consistency of his character. As if he was a reference point that didn’t move while everything else did. I am uncertain how such stability can be achieved without becoming dogmatic. That particular harmony feels tharmanay kyaw incredibly rare
There is a particular moment that keeps recurring in my mind, although I cannot be sure my memory of it is perfectly true. A monk taking great care to fix his robe in a slow manner, as if he were entirely free from any sense of urgency. It might have been another individual, not Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw. Recollections have a way of blending people's identities. However, the emotion associated with it persisted. That feeling of being unhurried by the expectations of the world.
I find myself questioning the personal toll of being such an individual. Not in a dramatic fashion, but in the simple cost of daily existence. The quiet sacrifices that don’t look like sacrifices from the outside. The dialogues that were never held. Allowing false impressions to persist without rebuttal. Permitting individuals to superimpose their own needs upon your image. I do not know if such thoughts ever entered his mind. It could be that he didn't, and that may be the very heart of it.
I notice dust on my fingers from the old volume. I remove the dust without much thought. The act of writing this feels almost superfluous, and I say that with respect. There is no requirement for every thought to be practical. On occasion, it is sufficient simply to recognize. that some lives leave a deep impression. without the need for self-justification. Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw is such a figure in my eyes. An influence that is experienced rather than analyzed, as it should be.