I have been trying to pinpoint when I first came across the name of Jatila Sayadaw, but my mind offers no clarity on the matter. It didn't happen through a single notable instance or a formal debut. It resembles the experience of noticing a tree on your property has matured significantly, though the actual progression of its growth was never consciously witnessed? It has just become a fixture. His name was just there, familiar in a way I never really questioned.
I am sitting at my desk in the early hours— not quite at the moment of sunrise, but in that grey, liminal space when the morning light remains undecided. The steady, repetitive sound of sweeping drifts in from the street. This rhythmic sound emphasizes my stillness as I remain half-asleep, musing on a monk who remains a stranger to my physical experience. Just disconnected shards of information. Vague impressions.
Many individuals use the adjective "revered" to characterize him. That is a word with significant weight, is it not? But when they say it about Jatila Sayadaw, it doesn’t sound loud or formal. It conveys a sense of... meticulous attention. Like people are a bit more measured in their speech when he is the topic. There is an underlying quality of restraint present. I am often thinking about that sense of restraint. It feels entirely disconnected from contemporary society. Everything else is about reaction, speed, being seen. Jatila Sayadaw appears to inhabit a fundamentally different cadence. A state where time is not viewed as something to be "hacked" or maximized. One simply dwells within it. Such a notion is attractive in theory, but I believe the application is considerably harder.
I have this image of him in my head, even though I may have fabricated it from pieces of past stories and memories. In this image, he is walking—simply moving along a monastery trail with downcast eyes and balanced steps. It does not appear to be an act. He isn't performing for others, even if there were onlookers nearby. Perhaps I am viewing it too romantically, yet that is the version that lingers.
It is notable that few people share stories concerning his individual character traits. There are no clever anecdotes or witty sayings that people pass around like souvenirs. Discussion always returns to his discipline and his seamless practice. It is as if his persona... moved aside to let the tradition be heard. I occasionally muse on that idea. Whether it is experienced as liberation to let the "ego" fade, or if it feels restrictive. I do not have the answer; I am not even certain if that is the correct inquiry.
The light is finally starting to change now. It’s getting brighter. I have reviewed these words and came close to erasing them. It feels a bit disorganized and perhaps a little futile. However, perhaps that is precisely the essence of it. Thinking of him brings to light how much mental and verbal noise I usually create. The frequency with which I attempt to fill the stillness with something "valuable." He is the embodiment of the opposite drive. He did not choose silence merely to be still; he simply required nothing additional.
I’m just going to leave it at that. This is not intended to here be a biographical account. It is just me noting how some names stay with you even without effort. They just linger. Unwavering.