Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw resurfaced in my mind quite spontaneously this evening, but that is typically how these reflections emerge.

The smallest trigger can bring it back. This particular time, the sound of sticky pages was the cause when I tried to flip through an old book left beside the window for too long. Moisture has a way of doing that. I found myself hesitating for a long moment, pulling the pages apart one at a time, and somehow his name surfaced again, quietly, without asking.

One finds a unique attribute in esteemed figures like the Sayadaw. They are not often visible in the conventional way. Or perhaps they are perceived only from afar, conveyed via narratives, memories, and fragmented sayings which are difficult to attribute exactly. Regarding Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, my understanding comes primarily from what is missing. 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. Merely an incidental inquiry, as if discussing the day's weather. The individual inclined their head, gave a slight smile, and replied “Ah, Sayadaw… he possesses great steadiness.” That was all—no further commentary was provided. At first, I felt a little unsatisfied with the answer. Today, I consider that answer to have been entirely appropriate.

Here, it is the middle of the afternoon. The illumination is flat, lacking any golden or theatrical quality—it is simply light. I’m sitting on the floor instead of the chair for no real reason. 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. Wisdom is often praised, but steadiness feels like the more arduous path. Wisdom can be admired from afar. Steadiness has to be lived next to, day after day.

Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw navigated a lifetime of constant change Shifts in the political and social landscape, alongside the constant flux of rebuilding that characterizes the modern history of Burma. Despite this, when he is mentioned, it is not for his political or personal opinions They talk about consistency. 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 balance feels almost impossible.

There is a particular moment that keeps recurring in my mind, although I am not certain the event occurred exactly as I recall. A bhikkhu meticulously and slowly adjusting his attire, as though he get more info possessed all the time in the world. It is possible that the figure was not actually Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw. People are often blurred together in the landscape of memory. But the feeling stuck. That feeling of being unhurried by the expectations of the world.

I often reflect on the sacrifices required to be a person of that nature. Not in a theatrical way, but in the subtle daily price. Those silent concessions that are invisible to the external observer. Remaining silent when one could have spoken. Permitting errors in perception to remain. Allowing others to project whatever they need onto you. I don’t know if he thought about these things. It could be that he didn't, and that may be the very heart of it.

There’s dust on my hands now from the book. I wipe it away without thinking. Composing these thoughts seems somewhat redundant, in a positive sense. Not everything needs to have a clear use. Sometimes it’s enough to acknowledge that particular individuals leave a lasting mark. never having sought to explain their own nature. Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw feels very much like that to me. A presence felt more than understood, and maybe meant to stay that way.