It wasn't my intention to dwell on Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw again tonight, yet that is often the nature of such things.

Often, a trivial event serves as the catalyst. This particular time, the sound of sticky pages was the cause when I reached for a weathered book resting in proximity to the window. That is the effect of damp air. I lingered for more time than was needed, methodically dividing each page, and his name simply manifested again, quiet and unbidden.

One finds a unique attribute in esteemed figures like the Sayadaw. One rarely encounters them in a direct sense. Or perhaps they are perceived only from afar, conveyed via narratives, memories, and fragmented sayings that no one can quite place. When I think of Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, he is defined by his absences. A lack of showmanship, a lack of haste, and a lack of justification. And those absences say more than most words ever could.

I remember once asking someone about him. Not directly, not in a formal way. Just a casual question, as if I were asking about the weather. The person gave a nod and a faint smile, then remarked “Ah, Sayadaw… very steady.” There was no further explanation given. At first, I felt a little unsatisfied with the answer. Now I think that response was perfect.

It’s mid-afternoon where I am. The light is dull, not golden, not dramatic. Just 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 pondering the idea of being steady and the rarity of that quality. Wisdom is often praised, but steadiness feels like the more arduous path. It is easy to admire wisdom from a distance. Steadiness has to be lived next to, day after day.

Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw navigated a lifetime of constant change Political upheavals, societal transitions, and cycles of erosion and renewal that characterizes the modern history of check here Burma. And still, when he is the subject of conversation, people don't dwell on his beliefs or stances. They emphasize his remarkable consistency. It was as though he remained a stable anchor while the world shifted around him. It is hard to grasp how he avoided rigidity while staying so firm. That particular harmony feels incredibly rare

There’s a small moment I keep replaying, although I am not certain the event occurred exactly as I recall. A monk adjusting his robe, slowly, carefully, with the air of someone who had no other destination in mind. 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. The feeling of being unburdened by the demands of society.

I find myself wondering, often, what it costs to be that kind of person. Not in a dramatic fashion, but in the simple cost of daily existence. Those silent concessions that are invisible to the external observer. Forgoing interactions that might have taken place. Letting misunderstandings stand. Letting others project their own expectations onto your silence. Whether he reflected on these matters is unknown to me. Maybe he was beyond such thoughts, which could be the entire point.

I notice dust on my fingers from the old volume. I brush it off absentmindedly. Writing these words feels a bit unnecessary, and I mean that kindly. Utility is not the only measure of value. Sometimes, the simple act of acknowledgement is enough. that some lives leave a deep impression. never having sought to explain their own nature. To me, Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw embodies that quality. A presence to be felt rather than comprehended, perhaps by design.