Reflecting on Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw wasn't on my agenda this evening, yet that is often the nature of such things.

It is often a minor detail that sets it off. The trigger today was the sound of paper sticking together as I turned the pages of a long-neglected book left beside the window for too long. Such is the nature of humid conditions. My pause was more extended than required, separating the pages one by one, and his name simply manifested again, quiet and unbidden.

There is a peculiar quality to revered personalities such as his. They are not frequently seen in the public eye. Or maybe you see them, but only from a distance, transmitted through anecdotes, reminiscences, and partial quotations whose origins have become blurred over time. When I think of Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw, he is defined by his absences. The void of drama, the void of rush, and the void of commentary. In many ways, these absences are more descriptive than any language

I remember once asking someone about him. It wasn't a direct or official inquiry. Just a lighthearted question, much like an observation of the sky. My companion nodded, smiled gently, and noted “Ah, Sayadaw… always so steady.” The conversation ended there, without any expansion. At first, I felt a little unsatisfied with the answer. Looking back, I realize the answer was ideal.

It’s mid-afternoon where I am. The room is filled with a neutral, unornamented light. I’m sitting on the floor instead of the chair for no real reason. Perhaps my body sought a new form of discomfort today. I find myself contemplating steadiness and its actual uniqueness. We talk about wisdom a lot, but steadiness feels harder. Wisdom is something we can respect from the outside. But steadiness must be practiced consistently in every moment.

Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw witnessed immense transformations during his life. Transitions in power and website culture, the slow wearing away and the sudden rise that seems to define modern Burmese history. Despite this, when he is mentioned, it is not for his political or personal opinions They talk about consistency. He was like a fixed coordinate in a landscape of constant motion. It is difficult to understand how one can maintain that state without turning stiff. Achieving that equilibrium seems nearly unachievable.

There is a particular moment that keeps recurring in my mind, even though I cannot verify if the memory matches the reality. A bhikkhu meticulously and slowly adjusting his attire, as though he were in no hurry to go anywhere else. It might have been another individual, not Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw. The mind often fuses different individuals in 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. I do not mean in a grand way, but in the small details of each day. Silent sacrifices that do not seem like losses to the casual eye. Choosing not to engage in certain conversations. Letting misunderstandings stand. Letting others project their own expectations onto your silence. I cannot say if he ever pondered 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 remove the dust without much thought. Composing this reflection feels somewhat gratuitous, but in a good way. Utility is not the only measure of value. At times, it is enough just to admit. that certain existences leave a lasting trace. without the need for self-justification. Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw is such a figure in my eyes. An aura that is sensed rather than understood, and perhaps intended to remain so.