Reflecting on Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw wasn't on my agenda this evening, but that is typically how these reflections emerge.

It is often a minor detail that sets it off. The trigger today was the sound of paper sticking together when I tried to flip through an old book left beside the window for too long. Humidity does that. My pause was more extended than required, 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 frequently seen in the public eye. Or perhaps they are perceived only from afar, filtered through stories, recollections, half-remembered quotes which lack a definitive source. My knowledge of Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw seems rooted in his silences. Without grandiosity, without speed, and without the need for clarification. In many ways, these absences are more descriptive than any language

I remember seeking another's perspective on him once Without directness or any sense of formality. 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, Sayadaw… he possesses great steadiness.” That was all—no further commentary was provided. Initially, I experienced a touch of letdown. In hindsight, I see that reply as being flawless.

The time is currently mid-afternoon in my location. The day is filled with a muted, unexceptional light. I find myself sitting on the floor today, for no identifiable cause. Perhaps my spine desired a different sort of challenge this morning. I keep pondering the idea of being steady and the rarity of that quality. While wisdom is often discussed, steadiness appears to be the greater challenge. It is easy to admire wisdom from a distance. Steadiness has to be lived next to, day after day.

Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw witnessed immense transformations during his life. Shifts in the political and social landscape, alongside the constant flux of rebuilding which defines the historical arc of modern Burma. Nevertheless, discussions about him rarely click here focus on his views or stances. They emphasize his remarkable consistency. As if he were a permanent landmark that stayed still while the environment fluctuated. It is difficult to understand how one can maintain that state without turning stiff. Such a balance appears almost beyond human capability.

There’s a small moment I keep replaying, although I cannot be sure my memory of it is perfectly true. An image of a monk arranging his robes with great deliberation, with the air of someone who had no other destination in mind. Perhaps that monk was not Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw at all. People are often blurred together in the landscape of memory. But the sense of the moment remained strong. That sense of not being rushed by the world’s expectations.

I frequently ponder the price of living such a life. Not in a theatrical way, but in the subtle daily price. Silent sacrifices that do not seem like losses to the casual eye. Choosing not to engage in certain conversations. 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 perhaps that is exactly the essence.

My hands have become dusty from handling the book. I brush the dust off in a distracted way 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 particular individuals leave a lasting mark. without ever attempting to provide an explanation. Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw is such a figure in my eyes. A presence to be felt rather than comprehended, perhaps by design.