Category Archives: art

A Writer’s Gotta Write

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‘A writer’s gotta write.’

So says a character in a movie I watched a couple of nights ago. So, here I am, writing. Not that I’ve been writing much lately. Actually, I’ve written nothing for months! Certainly not in the literal sense of putting pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard).

Of course writing isn’t only about that literal activity anyway is it? A writer must wait for the lightning bolt (or soft whisper) of inspiration to come; for ideas to be found for subjects to write about. There’s always going to be some thinking to done, facts to be found, and a heap of other activities to go under the vague heading: What do writers do?

I’ve never liked ‘making excuses’ for not writing. For not putting pen to paper, for having a mind bereft of ideas, for being totally empty of inspiration. Of course there are always reasons for doing or not doing something. Reasons or excuses? A fine line depending on your perception.

But. So what if inspiration is nowhere to be found? What of it if there’s an idea drought? No bursts of pen on paper or fingers on keyboard? What’s a writer (or at least this writer) to do to get the river of words flowing again?

Be. Cultivate stillness. Practise being quiet, as in don’t talk so much and keep a quiet mind. Listen. Of course if you’re not quiet on the inside and the outside, then it makes it hard to listen, to hear the idea when it arrives, to be aware of inspiration when it strikes.

It isn’t a passive silence of waiting. Being quiet is actually quite difficult; silence is an art to be developed; it takes effort and discipline Be patien: it also takes time.

For a blogger (me) committed to sharing snippets of the life being lived, and already aspiring to a life of quiet contemplation and solitude, this all seems to make a lot of sense.

I guess the lesson – for me – is to learn that writing is like everything else in my life: it comes or doesn’t come when and how it does (or doesn’t). It’s not be chased after or fretted over when things don’t turn out in quite the way I’d  planned or wished for.

See what’s happened? A ‘random’ line from a ‘random’ movie quietly entered my mind, sticking there to then bring forth a flood of words to share with you. Important words for me, interesting word for you to read I hope.

Again I’ll say: a life lesson for me. No need to wait or chase, no need to fret and worry. Just be, and the life to be lived, the ideas to be had, the words to be written (and spoken), the action to take, all of it, will be there exactly when and how it is meant to be.

Let go and let God.

Do Good, Be Good: A How to Guide

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Lately it’s been a bit hard to remember I’m actually a hermit. A lengthy hospital stay, doctors’ visits, sessions with physio and other therapists, moving to a new hermitage. There seems to be no end to the people and activities pulling me back out there into the world.

Sometimes I would like to just stop, do nothing and simply be.

But even a hermit isn’t exempt from performing actions  in the world. Of course the point of living in seclusion as a hermit is to minimise contact and interaction with the world of people and things of the world; to renouncing objects and pleasures of the senses and ridding oneself of desires for these material experiences.

Even so, no matter the degree to which one renounces action, it is simply not possible to cease all activity in this world.

Recently I came across a kind of list of the three types of categories or activities one must never renounce regardless  of the level of withdrawal from the world.

In fact, looking at it from another perspective, this little list could be described as a guide on the types of activities to undertake for not only hermits but all of us wanting to live a life of ‘being good and doing  good’. And as a means to make every single thing we do serve the Truth.

Actually, that brings us to the top most (for me at least) of the three categories of activity that are never to be renounced, which is the embracing of actions that contribute to my quest to understand my true nature, to fully realise the divinity within myself that is in fact the divinity that pervades and permeates all there is.

My intention is that all my activities are informed by loving devotion  to this divinity and a deep yearning to be of service to that divinity. Don’t relate to Divinity? That’s okay: substitute God, the Universe, Love, Beauty, Truth …

Which now leads me to the next category: I aspire to consider the welfare of all other living beings as I perform any action in this world. Being mindful at all times to ensure my actions, including my speech and thought, causes as little harm as possible; how can I be good?

Of course the other side of this mindfulness is to continually be asking myself, what can I actually do to contribute in a positive way to the welfare of all living beings; how can I do good?

The final of the three equal, mutually dependant, and intimately interconnected  categories of activities require once again a continual mindfulness to my own welfare, on all levels.

Sounds obvious: we all want be happy, to enjoy life and be healthy. But, speaking only for myself here, there are any number of activities I have engaged in (some I still do) in order to get some pleasure, to be happy, whatever, that might work for a while, but as with all worldly things, it never lasts. As the saying goes, that which at first tastes like nectar can end up being poison.

Like the relationship I share with Youtube. With no television in the Hermitage Youtube is the go to space for things to watch; an unlimited source for study, inspiration, and sometimes simply for entertainment.

But last night, and by no means for the first time, I realized I was spending far more time ‘looking’ (AKA scrolling) for something of interest to watch then actually watching anything.

Now, watching videos for study, inspiration, and even entertainment, may contribute to my welfare, but scrolling certainly does not. Time consuming, mind deadening, it leads to irritability, depression and exposure to content I want nothing to do with. Time for (another) break.

A life worth striving towards.

Do good, be good?

Keep doing it and it will become normal

(eventually).

Cries of the Winged Ones

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CRIES OF THE WINGED ONES

Just let go
cries the winged messenger
perched in the fence-corner tree.
Let go. Just surrender.
Surrender to what?
The river of life,
its flow, its vibe

Lord here I am,
I cry in reply.
Two beings, one Self.

The winged messenger cries

because she longs for us to listen

A Prayer to Share: for the Divine Mother

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Namaste and Welcome

Today I would like to share with you a prayer (it’s a poem too, but …) I’ve written in praise of the Divine Mother. It’s actually the second prayer I’ve written to and for her. I shared that first one, called simply, A Prayer to the Divine Mother on the blog previously and you can find it here.

That post will also give you some background to my reverence for the Divine Mother – what she means to me; where my initial devotion comes from; my heart sense that this universal creative energy drives and sustains all creation; and finally how Divine Mother may be worshipped in many and varied (and even no) forms.

The prayer I share with you today – Jai Shree Maa –  emerged as I knelt chanting those exact word at the alter of a holy place dedicated to the Divine Mother as revered by many in her form as Our Lady of the Rosary.

It is a temple in that name I sometimes go pilgrimming to for quietness, meditation, and devotion.

Please accept my prayer. Thank you

JAI SHREE MAA

In this temple to the Divine Mother
upon my knees and praying.
Jai Shree Maa

I chant with sacred love in my heart,
sacred words upon my lips.
Jai Shree Maa

Divine Mother, with these words,
Jai Shree Maa
I invoke your holy presence;
I speak from my heart to yours.

With love and wishes for peace

Paul the Hermit

I Want to Sing Praises: A Poetic Offering

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Occasionally, on this blog, I have had the good fortune to be able to share with you a poem I have written.

I say occasionally because, at best, I am an occasional poet – or rather than take on that label, it’s better to say that sometimes words in some kind of poetic form emerge.

From time to time said poetic emergences could be called devotional. Devotional in the sense that my words seek to express praise, recognition, gratitude or similar sentiments, ideas, thoughts, and so on, directed towards those things I regard as sacred.

That might be ‘God’ in the direct sense that we all would understand right away, or it might be the divine as manifested through objects, people, or other beings in the material or non-material world.

Actually, come to think of it now as I make these notes, I realise that according to that not so short definition, most if not all my poetry has been devotional for quite some time now. Yes. I think that’s right.

Anyway, to get this post moving along a bit. A few days ago, I mentioned to my community, ‘I’ like to write devotional poetry.’

‘You do already,’ was the unanimous response. To which I replied, ‘I suppose so, but I want to sing praises.’

Hare Krishna Hare Krishna Krishna Hare Hare
Hare Rama Hare Rama Rama Rama Hare Hare

And that, my friends, became the title of a poetic effort from me expressing just that exact prayer.

Now I share with you those words that were given me as I ‘just sat’ in our temple.

                                 I WANT TO SING PRAISES

Devotional poetry.
That’s what I want to compose.
Actually, is there a calling to such composition?
Yes, for I do hear the call; it resonates deeply.
But, my ego-mind, it’s not listening.
Anyway, composing poetry devotional
is of the heart;
It leaves the mind behind.
Looks like one more ‘make the mind your friend’
moment.
Praise be all that is.

Even a Leaf: A Poetic Offering

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Namaste and greetings my friends

Today, a poem for your reading and contemplative pleasure. The title of the poem comes references a verse from the Bhagavad Gita in which Lord Krishna talks about what are acceptable offerings: He tells Arjuna that God, or the Divine will accept even a leaf as an offering of devotion.

So, when I returned to the Hermitage one day recently to find two leaves on the ground at the front gate, I recalled that verse and decided to make of those leaves, just such an offering.

Allow me now to share that offering with you.

Peace and love

Paul the Hermit

DAYS OF AMSTERDAM CHANTING: A POEM FROM A CHANT SHARED

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Reading the other day about the deeper meanings of the word Amen, a memory surfaced.

A memory from the summer of 1971. I was seventeen years old; young yes. I was hitchhiking around Europe, and as for this memory in particular, I was sitting day by day in the Dam Square in Amsterdam.

The memory of which we are speaking involves chanting. One day (or it could have been more), chanting, along with dozens, perhaps hundreds of hippies, freaks, travellers from all over the world, assorted tourists and locals.
Chanting Amen. Just like Sidney Poitier sings in Lilies of the Field. Minus all the verses; we chanted the chorus only. Amen. To help get the vibe, just go here.

Anyway, it was a nice memory, a memory of a day (and more) of music in a time of exploration, on the road and trying to be free.

More that that though: experiencing the memory gave me the feeling that that day, in the Square, had included at least a moment of devotion.

Sure, it was likely just one more tune among many sung during those times, but as I think about it now, I sense a distinct vibe of devotion and praise. I recall a sense of a kind of rejoicing in the word itself – Amen.

Anyway, here is the resulting poem. Do look up the chant; and do please join in, add your voice – your own distinct vibration – to the gathered voices.

Amen

DAYS OF AMSTERDAM CHANTING

Once upon a time
I hitchhiked to Holland.
Another mad attempted escape,
trying to leave the madness behind.
Amen.

Crashing in the park in the night,
beneath a bridge – when it rained,
behind the bushes – when it didn’t.
Amen.

Squatting in the Square in the day.
Sometimes singing days.
Dozens of hippies, freaks,
travellers, and even a few tourists and locals.
Amen.

Many memories of those days remain. Like this one:
I was 17, you see, in those days, squatting in the Square –    Dam Square.
Music in all directions. Truly surround sound.
Guitars, bongos, reedy things like flutes and whistles,
even a trumpet I can recall.
Amen.

Then, a chant erupts, and soon engulfs the gathered.
Amen … Amen … Amen, Amen, Amen.

And, now, I’ve joined the chanting,
maracas shaking held high, as if in exalted devotion,
as I sway to vibration overwhelming.
Amen.

This entrancing word, this creative vibration,
how long did it linger, permeating
the very air I was breathing?
Amen.

Memory informs: it was hours.
That is to say, it was eternal – or was it a mere moment? Same.
Of course, Amen – Om – the vibration of creation
was never born, is never changing, always existent.
Amen.

Always creating. Always dissolving.
Then again creating.
Making manifest that which was unmanifest.
Amen.

Or, is it a sound and light show?
Amen, the word, the vibration, the sound
shining a light on what is there already?
And what is there already,
is all there is.
Amen Amen Amen

On a Pilgrim’s Way

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Today I went on a pilgrimage.Not that I don’t undertake all kinds of little pilgrimages all the time. And even more, it’s not as if my whole life – just like yours and everyone else’s – isn’t one ongoing and continuing pilgrimage.

All true; but this one, today, was embarked upon in what might be called, a classic manner: on foot, to a place of sacred significance, and in a spirit of contemplation of the nature of the journey as well on that which is being pilgrimed too. (I am positive there is no such word!)

In this case, today’s pilgrimage, that place was a church about two and a half kilometres from the  hermitage. It’s a place I have visited several time, but today was the first time I set out as a pilgrim and walked in the way and spirit of the pilgrim.

Our Lady of the Rosary is a Catholic church dedicated to the Mother of Jesus in her role as patron of the Holy Rosary, a Catholic way of prayer that has evolved over time and is a key part of the lives of many Catholic people.

Just to the right, just inside the door there is a plain brick wall in which there is a small niche. The niche holds an almost life-size statue of Mary. She stands, hands folded over her chest on which sits the Dove of Peace.

You can see from the photo that the church itself is a lovely, quiet, serene place full of good vibes and nice peaceful energies. The object, however, of my pilgrimage was not the church in itself, but stood just inside the side door accessed through an equally peaceful, fountain centred garden.

I have come to offer her – this form or manifestation of the Divine Mother – the prayer I wrote to her which I hope you saw when I posted it on this blog recently.

I had decided that my pilgrimage vow would be fulfilled once I had knelt at her feet and offered her the words of my heart in prayer.

My reverence for the Divine Mother is well known, and especially in her form as Mary the Mother of Jesus. Or Our Lady as we called her as good little Catholic children way back in the long ago. And I know I have said often that the entirety of the material and non-material cosmos is a manifestation of the Divine.

So, why then a special trip on foot, that I’m labeling a pilgrimage to a specific site, so I can kneel at the feet of a statue that I know perfectly well is made of stone or plaster and is simply a symbol of one aspect of the Divine?

Actually, the question has answered itself. The pilgrimage and my associated actions worded in that question tell us the why.

It is about acknowledging at a heart level and in my own way, that that symbol, that form, is actually representing a particular aspect of the Divine that I revere.

Besides, I’m not the first person who’s knelt at that spot, at Mary’s feet. I don’t know the age of the church, nor do I know the history of that particular statue, but I think we can say for certain that many hundreds, if not thousands of other people have been there where I was and spoken words from their hearts.

Being honest and true now, what I can say is that, as I said to my partner hermit: ‘I feel like i’ve been on a pilgrimage’.

And I do. I’ve walked – praying and chanting – to a sacred place where I have prayed at the feet of the Divine in the form of a likeness of Mary. I feel blessed that I actually got to offer the prayer I wrote to the Divine Mother.

Somehow I feel a link was established. A heart (mine) opened ever so slightly. I acknowledged the Divine, and I sense that I might just be – ever so slightly again! – topped up with a bit of the Grace that is in reality our true state.

Mary in the Garden (enhanced by a fellow Hermit Pilgrim. 
Thank you)

So, this is the story of my pilgrimage. I was absolutely exhausted when I arrived back at the hermitage. Most likely that was due to the heat, the traffic, and the noise encountered on the way I trod.

But, now I’ve shared this little tale with you, I’m not tired. Anyway, the Way is not always easy, and we are all very well aware of that aren’t we?

Namaste friends. The Divine in me salutes the Divine in you.

It’s a walk to take,

a pilgrimage to make.

Sometime soon.

Said by me long ago, I don’t know when or where. It was one of those ‘You’re a poet and don’t know it’ moments.

Peace!

A Little Ode to Vincent: A Poem & more

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Way back long ago in late 2014 I wrote a poem. Which as a stand alone statement is hardly cause for excitement on any level I can think of.

Except to say that in that poem I expressed much of what I felt (and still feel all these years later, perhaps more so) about Vincent Van Gogh. I called it A Little Ode to Vincent, because it was a kind of love song, a celebration of Vincent and an affirmation of my reverence for that great one.

Anyway, I was reading some old poems last night and I came across A Little Ode to Vincent. I checked to see if I’d shared it with you on this blog at some point, but to my surprise I found that I hadn’t. Which is very nice for me, because I get to share it with you now.


There it is then. Thank you for allowing me to share it with you. There isn’t a word I’d change if I were writing it now.

While looking through my blog checking for this poem, I came across two posts from 2022 which mention Vincent. Well, one is about a book I’d read on his spirituality and his quest to lead a compassionate life. Have a look at the beginning of that post and what I wrote about that book:

I still remember the book and its impact on me vividly. Please read the post Van Gogh Mystic & Saint, and if at all possible read the book. In fact I’m going to try to track it down and read it again, or at least do some Googling on the topic.

The other post I wrote at around the same time isn’t about Vincent directly, but it does open with a quote from him, and he’s referred to throughout the post. Here’e the opening section:

Again, please take the time to read it. It’s called The Pilgrims’ Way, and I think it makes a very nice sibling post for that first one I’ve linked to.

I hope you found the little Ode of mine satisfying. I have always had great reverence for Vincent, and after reading the book about his spirituality, I was even more deeply attracted to the man, the artist, and the mystic saint that was Vincent Van Gogh.

There’s nothing more genuinely artistic than to love people.

Vincent Van Gogh

The Alchemy of Rain: A Poem & a Picture (or two)

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THE ALCHEMY OF RAIN


Surya’s life-giving energies shine upon
scattered and drifting, yet converging, patches dotting the clear blue sky.
Silver linings, so they say,
granted to those scattered grey clouds.

Those clouds, those grey scattered and converging clouds,
bless.
Bless the domain of Varuna,
God of the skies
with the potential for change.
All forms change.

Clouds, silver-lined or no,
are Varuna,
for he is also God of the skies.
And now, with clouds’ convergence,
the expectancy ends:
the change begins.

The Sun, still present, yet his light blotted out
by those very clouds – joins Varuna
In the form of the cloud. Alchemy.

From the convergence of energy and matter
water droplets emerge;
Varuna has remanifested,
and falls to wet Earth below.

To cleanse the dust from all things
living and non-living.
From the feathers of the winged-ones;
From the fur of the four-legged;
To quench the thirst of the Tree People.
And to moisten the throats of us, the Two Legged.

Thank you my friends.

May your day be blessed by both Surya and Varuna, in the correct measure and balance that is for the benifit of all beings.