A tiny spark is usually enough to ignite the memory. This time it was the sound of pages sticking together as I turned the pages of a long-neglected book left beside the window for too long. It's a common result of humidity. My pause was more extended than required, carefully detaching the sheets individually, and somehow his name surfaced again, quietly, without asking.
Respected individuals of his stature often possess a strange aura. They are not frequently seen in the public eye. One might see them, yet only from a detached viewpoint, perceived via the medium of lore, recollections, and broken quotes that remain hard to verify. With Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, I feel like I know him mostly through absences. Devoid of theatricality, devoid of pressure, and devoid of excuse. In many ways, these absences are more descriptive than any language
I once remember posing a question to someone regarding his character. In an indirect and informal manner. 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.” There was no further explanation given. At the time, I felt slightly disappointed. 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. I have chosen to sit on the ground rather than the seat, without a specific motive. more info It could be that my back was looking for a different sensation this afternoon. I am reflecting on the nature of steadiness and how seldom it is found. We talk about wisdom a lot, but steadiness feels harder. Wisdom can be admired from afar. But steadiness must be practiced consistently in every moment.
Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw navigated a lifetime of constant change Changes in politics and society, the gradual decay and rapid reconstruction that characterizes the modern history of Burma. Nevertheless, discussions about him rarely focus on his views or stances. They speak primarily of his consistency. He served as a stationary reference point amidst a sea of change How one avoids rigidity while remaining so constant is a mystery to me. Achieving that equilibrium seems nearly unachievable.
I frequently return to a specific, minor memory, even if I am uncertain if my recollection is entirely accurate. A monk taking great care to fix his robe in a slow manner, as if there was no other place he needed to be. It might have been another individual, not Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw. Memory blurs people together. However, the emotion associated with it persisted. The feeling of being unburdened by the demands of society.
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. Those silent concessions that are invisible to the external observer. The dialogues that were never held. Permitting errors in perception to remain. Letting others project their own expectations onto your silence. I don’t know if he thought about these things. Perhaps he was free of such concerns, and maybe that's the key.
My hands have become dusty from handling the book. I brush the dust off in a distracted way Composing these thoughts seems somewhat redundant, in a positive sense. Utility is not the only measure of value. Occasionally, it is adequate to merely acknowledge. that particular individuals leave a lasting mark. without ever trying to explain themselves. Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw feels like that to me. A presence to be felt rather than comprehended, perhaps by design.