Right at the end of our last post, I mentioned – in an almost off-handed manner – that the hermitage has moved. Better to say the hermits were lead by the ever not so subtle universe to leave our refuge of a year for the safety and seclusion of another abode a few hundred metres away.
Why? Why did the hermits have to move? Well here’s the thing, the owner of that space that had graced us with its protection for that year decided to revive his on and off again campaign to sell the property. And with great success too: very soon there was a buyer very keen to move in ASAP
So, the search was on for a new abode to house the hermits. Cutting a long story short, and leaving out a multiplicity of praises, gratitude, and details, here we are.
Now you know why we moved into a new hermitage. Or do you? You have a few of the facts about how the process of us moving actually manifested in the material world, but as to proper answers to the why questions? You’ll agree that it’s all a bit vague, mundane, and that I haven’t given any answers to why at all.
That’s because I don’t know either; no idea at all.
It’s true, there were some unusual obstacles and pressures – but aren’t there always for everyone as they negotiate and try to manage their lives in the world?
And I could add that the timing could have been better – see above rhetorical question for my response to this one.
No. Like so much (actually everything really) that happens in the on-going, non-stop re creation of the physical world (constant flux, change,seeming chaos, conflicts, setbacks, advances, ups and downs) as it flows along in its own way at its own pace, I have to admit, its a mystery to be unravelled. Or not: there are some who would dare to label this constant re creation, God’s will.
So, we can ask why here? Why now? What’s the lesson to be learned from the move to the new hermitage.
Or we could just tell ourselves that that’s just the way the Cosmos does things. By any standards it’s been a no hitches, no hassles, change of address. But let’s not get distracted by dualities: It is what it is, as I like to say.
And there’s no good or bad, but thinking makes it so.
If my life was ruled by ‘clock’ time (which generally speaking it is in spite of my many protests and despite my continuing meditation and other practices designed to assist in developing a sense of being fully present thereby enabling one to truly live in the here and now), I would be telling you now that there’s been a long gap between posts and that this has occurred because two and A half months ago I had a stroke and I didn’t leave the hospital untill less than a fortnight ago.
But there’s been no ‘gap’, the posts will carry on flowing along (or not) of their own accord; and while it is true that my brain and heart colluded in an action that has for now resulted in some damage to other bits of my body, the simple reality is that life has gone on doing what life does, and I AM still here, with perhaps a little more of a clue to the ‘how to live in the here and now’ as well as the whole ‘I AM THAT I AM and not the body’ mysteries.
Obviously, I’m not into swapping ‘You think your hospital stay was bad? Well let me tell you … .’ stories. Now I think about it, there are quite a few of the good, uplifting, kindness and compassion, decency and respect variety a couple of which I might write about if they decide they want to be shared.
But for now (when else is there?) I am here (where else is there?) trying to flow in the life I share with my partner hermit in our new (for us) hermitage just over the other side of the village Main Road.
Sharing our prayers this morning, the hermits each reciting a prayer to the other so each can pray, and talking about the oneness of life (prompted by one of the shared prayers), the dependence of one species upon another.
As we reflected on that idea – of interdependence – it occured to me that perhaps, there might be a problem in how we as humans, interpret its meaning. We can maybe call it a kind of paradox, but we’ll get to that in a bit.
Our dependence – as humans beings – on so many other species is actually a well known, and I hope increasingly accepted, reality. For food, for shelter, for water, air to breathe. Everything.
In any case, an aspect of this interdendcence idea that struck me as perhaps missing, that I’ve not really heard before (I haven’t researched this; just winging it thought and contemplation wise) is this; If, say, bees disappeared, or all trees were cut down, would humans survive? Definitely not.
On the other hand, let’s say that in an instant or even over time, all humans on Earth disappeared. What would happen to all the other living beings? All the bugs, the fishes, the animals of all kinds, trees, grasses – all the living beings?
It seems to me that all those other species, all those beings of all kinds, would not only survive, they would most likely thrive.
Actually, now I think about it, I remember during the COVID lockdowns, people in various places around the world were amazed at the return of birds to usually busy polluted cities, and how the air seemed fresher in some places when in ‘normal times’ it was getting hard to breathe. And beaches and rivers looked a bit cleaner than usual.
Fewer people commuting; fewer planes flying; less goods being transported on congested roads; less waste going into rivers and the oceans. Seems life on Earth was doing better when we (humans) were out of the picture, even for a short while.
Which is to say, humans may not be necessary for the survival of planet Earth and the other life that lives here. Putting it very simply: We go, they thrive; They go, we go too.
But, my thought train races along its newly discovered track here, what if I’m wrong? What if I’m looking at the whole issue on just a superficial level? What if all I am seeing is the gross material level of the whole question? What if I’m missing the real point of it all?
Well it seems to me that on that purely physical, surface level, my theory (borrowed as it may be perhaps) might be right, the irony true: we go, they thrive; they go, we all go; they stay, we all get to stay.
But who are ‘they‘? Who are ‘we‘? For me it’s clear that we are not all simply and only our physical bodies and our minds living here in the material world; that’s all temporary and comes and goes. No, there has to be more to it than that.
Which is what I end up coming back to so very often: there is only one. No separation; no you and me; them or us. Just one. Without a second. Only Consciousness.
I think the best thing to do, just to be on the safe side is to look after each other – regardless of the particular body we happen to be inhabiting at the moment.
I dreamed I was drawing an OM symbol. Nothing else, no memory of a dream setting or situation, no other dream characters; only the view – as from my own eyes – of my hand making that sacred mark.
It is quiet during morning prayers today. At one point, after completing one prayer, I turned the page, and began praying the prayer there. Attentively and prayerfully, which is a really nice thing for me to notice because oftentimes I can be a lip level prayer sayer.
As I prayed, I was drawn to the part of that page labelled ‘blank space’. It was at that moment the memory of that dream began to arise.
Instinctively, without thought, I reached for my pen – this pen I now use to make these notes – and inscribed (as that dream memory seemed to demand) the sacred OM in that formerly blank space.
This all transpired as the memory unfolded; really only a matter of a just a few seconds of clock time. But, of course, what meaning is there to ‘clock time’?
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God. And the Word was God. And the Word is God. No beginning. No end.
Om Om Om
PS Thank you John for allowing me to use your words. I know I have paraphrased and modified them a little with my own words, but somehow I don’t think you’d mind.
Recently I came across the story of Abba Arsenius – one of the early Christian desert fathers. I’d originally written about him a year ago in what became a short series of posts.
Coming across him and his story again prompted me to revisit those posts – the first of which you can read here – and I reread them again, though as if for the first time. Anyway, here’s a short recap before we move on.
Arsenius was a high ranking official for the Roman Empire, working for many years as a tutor to the sons of the Emperor.
Over time he grew tired of the glamour lifestyle, the politics, corruption and court intrigues, and looked for a way to free himself from the whole material trap he was in.
So he prayed, ceaselessly, the story goes. He prayed for salvation, for freedom.
And, in time the answer, according to the story came in just a few words:
Flee, be silent, and pray always.
And he did. Flee I mean. He headed for the Egyptian deserts which is where he found that silence, and the space, peace, and calm to fulfil his desire to be praying constantly. And, with some comings and goings, ups and downs, he stayed for the rest of his life.
Now, while Arsenius and his story are fascinating (in fact now I’ve rediscovered him, I’m going to look around for a biography or something so I can learn more), what I want to think about here is something I wrote in the first of those previous posts, and how it ties in with our decision (almost a year ago now) to stay in this one place for the present.
For these Hermit Pilgrims ‘fleeing from the world’ has meant a nomadic lifestyle, few possessions and material needs, a hermit life where our engagement or entanglement with the world is kept to a minimum, and in which we feel less of a pressure to conform, to ‘be shaped’ by the world around us.
The notion of staying in this one place – as fully now and in the present as we can be – is actually paradoxically a fleeing of its own kind. The world of Samsara, the material world ‘out there’ continues to become less and less appealing to these Hermit Pilgrims.
Alongside this growing detachment to the world (as well as the loss of desire to move about in the world geographically speaking), is the deepening realisation that the real and true pilgrimage is within, through and to our own mind and heart.
Complimenting all this, is the growing contentment we are experiencing in this actual place, this hermitage of ours that we are creating on a daily basis. More and more it feels to be the exact place in which that inner pilgrimage is to continue.
Does this mean we have given up on that ‘nomadic lifestyle’? No, not at all. Or, more accurately, we are not niether giving up or not giving up. The present is all there is and we don’t – can’t – know anything beyond that. As the saying goes, What can we say about tomorrow?
This is my second attempt to start this post. In the first try I just couldn’t see or feel my voice, myself. Right away, as I began making notes, I launched into and quickly became bogged down, in a wordy, overly complex rational discussion.
It seemed more suited to some kind of academic essay (not that I am remotely qualified to write such essays) than a note from the heart of a hermit contemplating from deep within his cell.
So, here I am beginning again. This time I hope I’ll find a little more of me in what I write, perhaps discern something a little more authentically heartfelt.
This post emerged from my desire to share with you a little about a small item that helps me as I chant my mantra. My mind seems to switch into strong wandering mode when I try to settle into Japa or chanting mantra mode.
So, I have a small card, made from a cereal box and measuring about 15×7.5 centimetres, decorated with lovely colour pencil designs, with the mantra written in pen. Oh, it’s covered in plastic for protection and longevity, and was given to me as a gift.
Having it in hand or close by when chanting allows me to focus on the words if my mind wanders. I read them slowly, mindfully and I find it puts my chanting back on track – until the next wandering thoughts announce their presence!
Actually we have a couple of similar cards scattered around the Hermitage. One lives on the window ledge above the kitchen sink, and always acts as a timely reminder to make even the washing of dishes an opportunity for prayer.
The View from the Kitchen Sink
Having my card acts as more than a prompter to me to remember and focus; it acts as a kind of tool for contemplation: when looking at the mantra written there, I often sense the meaning of the words, the importance and place of them. I don’t call this mind wandering, this is contemplation and I welcome it.
While on this level, my card can be viewed as a mere ‘prompt’, there are some who would – and do – say that the card, and the very words written on it, are in fact, much more than being simply physical stuff.
They would say that the card, and especially the words are literally, factually, and in truth the Divine (in this case in the form of Krishna). Just as some traditions maintain that ordinary bread is transformed through ritual, into the actual body and blood of their God who was once made human.
Not mine. I’ve had this as a file for ages, and love it. I think it was originally the size of a visiting card
For much of my life I dismissed such notions as mere fantasy, the products of literal interpretations accepted as dogma through blind faith. I’ve even in the past used the word nonsense to describe and dismiss such superstitions.
Nowadays though (and here comes the but, the however, the on the other hand) I’ve come to a slightly different view of the idea. Is my little card literally a piece of cereal box, decorated with nice coloured pencil work, with words written on it? Obviously it is. Of course it is a material thing existing in a material world.
Is the statue of a deity or saint in a church or temple a lump of stone, wood, metal, or other physical material? Again, it’s obviously a material thing with a material existence . Just as communion bread and wine are baked in a bakery, and brewed in a winery.
So, is my card, along with these other examples, merely a stand in, a symbol, a represention of the Divine?
No, I don’t think so.
Over recent times, my instinct, my heart, senses that, in truth, there is only God, only the Divine, only the Absolute Reality, what we can call existence, or being, itself. It seems to me that this Absolute Reality is everything, is everywhere; there can be nothing else.
One without a second, I’ve heard it described. It’s why, I think, we can look at a flower, a tree, the ocean, a person, or some other material object and be able to in awe remark ‘this is divine’. Or how when we hear birds singing in a nearby tree (or on a neighbour’s roof as I can now as I type this) we may have a sense that we have actually had an encounter with the Divine.
Lately I’ve become bored, uninterested, even irritated, with dogma (my own or that of others) and my constant striving for rational and logical answers. My heart tells me – it feels – that the Divine is all there is.
You, me, all that is visible, and all that is invisible, is all there is, one unity. No, not even a unity: that implies the union of one thing with another.
One without a second. Yes, that says it all for me. Those four words, now I think about it, really do encapsulate all there is.
Including my own heartfelt aspiration to fully realise this Truth in the heart and soul of Self.
Every blogger will tell you that, for every one idea that leads to an actual published post, there are very many others that have fallen away: an idea that won’t or can’t be developed much; ideas that just don’t resonate; some ideas simply do ‘not fit’ with the overall theme of the blog. All kinds of reasons for an idea to not make it into a post.
Such has been the case with me recently – twice it happened, in a row. I abandoned them both while still notes in this notebook, At the time(s) I felt that these two potential posts just weren’t working and weren’t going to.
Then, yesterday, it happened again, this one making it to the typed stage. This time I realised that it was something other than an unworkable idea – after all, this was the third time in a very short period. There was definitely more to it. So, I went back and reread those two previous rejected posts, to try to find the links, if I could.
Smug, fake – as in as phoney as – ego driven, arrogant and self opinionated (note the small s please). Not to forget they all shouted to me of a reach for a sense of self importance.
Rereading the three it felt as if one could sum it all up by stating: ‘This writer has an ego as big as a house and it’s out of control.’
To tell you the truth, it has shocked me, this run of ego boosting rubbish I’ve been writing lately. The weird thing is, in all three cases, I think the actual themes or ideas have potential; just the tone and style disturbs me.
I know enough about my own mind and how I respond to conditions and circumstances (not to mention moods, emotions and the rest) in my life to know – and I knew it right away from my rereading – that such ego driven, arrogant, self (don’t forget the small s here as well) important stuff comes as a symptom, a sign.
It’s a symptom – an expression – of a low opinion of myself, a problem with self-esteem, a sense that I’m not good enough. Trying to boost myself up, that’s what it’s all about. In other words I was – have been – blinded by my ego/mind.
Admittedly my ego and my mind were only trying to make me feel better, and, especially with ego in the mix, I led myself astray. Their intentions were good (to cheer up the only ‘me’ they know), but the ego was is not my way.
However, this post isn’t about analysing me or whatever. It is an apology. An apology to my community, both the visible and the not so visible (that includes you dear reader).
I ask forgiveness of Self – this time with the big S
It’s often advised by spiritual teachers and leaders, by Gurus, and other religious people, that a vital factor in the success of any spiritual endeavour or quest, is that the seeker or devotee is able to share the association of other, fellow devotees.
It is important, they say, that the seeker keep company with fellow travellers on the same or similar paths.
So, how does that work for a hermit? How does the seeker committed to living a secluded life, separated physically from others, find this association with those like himself pursuing a spirituality oriented life, a life of devotion, prayer, contemplation, and service?
Well, this hermit can’t speak for hermits generally; he can only tell you how it is from his personal perspective. So, how do I manage to obtain association with fellow travellers on my path to the Divine?
Firstly, I am blessed to share my hermitage and my life with my partner hermit, as I have done for virtually the whole of my adult life.
And my partner is very much a fellow traveller on the path of commitment to the hermit life, to a life of prayer, devotion, service, and contemplation.
This makes me think of something purportedly said by the Lord Jesus:
For where two or three are gathered in my name, there I am in the midst of them
Matt 18:20
In other words, when the two hermits are gathered in the name of the Divine, which is really all the time, then there is the Divine.
Of course, everything, all beings, all things, are the Divine. And, as if in confirmation of just that idea, something interesting happened. Out of curiosity, without any deeper thinking than that, I looked up Chapter 18 Verse 20 in my Bhagavad Gita. It was just for fun, but I ended up getting a nice surprise:
The knowledge by which the undivided supreme being is seen in all entities, though it is divided into numerous forms, is situated in the mode of goodness.
Bhagavad Gita 18:20
Supreme being, universal consciousness, the Christ, God, the Divine. Many names, one essence.
Even so, at times we feel alone, sometimes lonely.And isolated from others on the path of the Divine. So, what do I do to have this association with other devotees, with fellow travellers?
I make enquiries into the lives – both historical and contemporary – of others who have followed or are following a genuinely spiritual path and life. I watch online videos, I read books, as well as I subscribe to a few online newsletters which I discover by investigating websites I’m led to in some way. All these provide so much opportunity for association, for connection, and for learning.
Such explorations, are at the very least, informative: I can see – or read – for myself the evidence that I am not alone and never have been, in my commitment to the Divine and a spiritual life.
They are inspiring and encouraging: I’m not alone! I can do it! And often I get ideas, clues, on how I might deepen my practice, improve my service, love more.
I love the hermit life
In a sense such stories – in visual or in word form – ‘keep me company’. As I said a couple of times already (sorry!) I’m not alone. And I can smile, perhaps nod my head in agreement (or shake it in disagreement) with a comment or observation from one of my fellow devotees on the screen, or on the page. I guess in a way, it gives me a sense of belonging or connection.
Some might say that encountering people or experience via a video or book, is vicarious at best. But I wonder about that actually: Remember my fondness for the Ripple Effect? For my strong feeling for sending out good vibrations?
And, what did Jesus say about when two or three gather? He never mentioned that it was necessary for those two or three to be sharing the same physical space.
Life’s lonely; we all know that, and to encounter like-minded, or like-hearted people sharing a similar path to mine, is more than a prayer answered. It’s a life affirming, love affirming, blessing.
One of the things I like about one of our local coffee shops is that they play a nice wide selection of music. Mostly popular songs from pretty much every decade back to the ’60s. I think they have one of those looping playlists you hear sometimes in shops and cafés.
It must be quite a long list because you don’t necessarily hear the same songs repeated at every visit. Which is a nice thing too.
Anyway, yesterday the chorus of a song I heard played got stuck in my head. The song, You’re the Voice, was a hit around the world in 1986 when it was released by Australian singer John Farnham.
It’s essentially a protest song reminding us that we all have a voice, and encouraging us to use our voices to stand up against corruption and war. One of the co-writers Chris Thompson missed out on going to an anti-nuclear protest because he slept late. He felt so badly about sleeping in that he wrote the lyrics reminding us about taking personal responsibility and making our voices heard.
Okay, back to the chorus getting stuck in my head.
You’re the voice, try and understand it Make a noise and make it clear Oh woah. We’re not gonna sit in silence We’re not gonna live in fear Oh woah
You see? It’s very catchy, and an excellent piece of advice too. And, for a hermit monk, it’s actually advice I could and do aspire to live by. Just not quite in the sense the song intends perhaps.
This morning, when my partner hermit suggested we just sit in silence for a while, I spontaneously started singing the chorus, though a slightly modified version:
We’re just gonna sit in silence We’re not gonna live with fear.
Then, as I sat in said silence, I got to thinking about the words of the chorus. Nobody wants to live in fear, yet it is an aspect of the human condition and something so many people live with constantly all over the world. All through human history as well.
The message of the song reminds us all that we have a voice which we can use to help create a state of affairs in which we don’t have to live in quite so much fear, fear that’s coming at us from so many sources.
For me, this is a vital, fundamental, and absolutely essential principle. Without those who do stand up, those who do use their voices to try to right wrongs, then, well I can’t think of what that might mean.
Yet, for me, I’ve chosen silence. Not only chosen I must admit: temperament, my own nature, health, all are factors that have made silence the best course for me to take. Silence as in seclusion from the world, minimizing outside imput, and reducing as much as possible the attachment to the world and its things and fears.
And this way of living ironically allows me to use my voice in my own ways to address the Truth as I see it; to help effect change and contribute to the healing so sorely needed.
Being ‘out there’ and engaged with worldly things and activities and interacting with people constantly causes me so much anxiety that it threatens my health and ability to act in the world.
There is also the personal choice aspect, common to so many who live a contemplative life. Silence – when I can actually achieve such a state – gives me the energy and clarity to write; it gives me the mental, emotional and spiritual ‘space’ and energy to pray, to contemplate, and to foster the ‘good vibrations’ I feel are also necessary to turn the world towards peace, healing, and truth, as well as to assist in maintaining the wellbeing of all life.
The world, and all of life, needs both those who can’t or won’t be silent (I’m definitely not suggesting the world needs more noise). We all need people who can and do raise their voices against war, poverty, corruption, and all the ills that plague us.
And it needs those who are able to ‘just sit in silence’. The work to be done is the same; the outcomes perused are the same; and in essence the means themselves aren’t all that different either. Silence as mentioned can include the use of our voices in ‘quiet’ ways, in ways that don’t have to relate so directly the affairs of the world.
It really is a symbiosis: Those of us living secluded and contemplative lives with our prayers, our witness, our creative endeavours, support those active and vocal ones out there trying to heal the world.
And at the same time those out there in the world support the secluded and contemplative ones. Their efforts and hard work, and simply knowing they are there, are encouraging and nurturing for the secluded and contemplative ones.
We are One after all. Yet our voices are all unique, each and every one. That’s what I understand to be true.