Openness, Another Name for God

Openness is the least blasphemous name for God.

            Rainer Maria Rilke (14 Dec 1875-29 Dec 1926)

While watching a lecture the other day, the speaker flashed a written quote across the screen:

Openness. A name – or more than a name – for God, for the Divine, for the universal consciousness, for love, Spirit, the Self. For the life force. The names are endless.

Rilke in his studio (Courtesy Wikimedia Commons)

Rilke was an Austrian poet who held as a core belief that the divine can’t be defined, contained, or limited by the use of human concepts or language . And that to give names or forms to ‘God’ or the divine is blasphemous because it reduces a limitless, evolving, mystery to a small, rigid projection.

Of course openness is also a human concept, an attribute ascribed by a human mind to a space, person, thing and so on. And it’s also a word – that is, it’s a bit of human language with all the baggage that brings with it.

So, do we simply have just one more human concept and word to add to an ever-growig list of names and forms of ‘God’? Not to forget that God is in itself a human invented concept and word.

But I get Rilke’s point: he was trying to move on from the tendency for us to use limiting names and forms. In his view the application of names and forms to the divine only serves to build walls that hide or obscure the divine, allowing the development of many and very often conflicting doctrines and dogma that have often been the cause of division and strife between the peoples of the world.

He thought dogma and doctrines of all kinds were meaningless and irrelevant when it comes to knowing the divine.

The Open’, he described as a state of pure existence unbounded and unfiltered by memory, fear or any other mental constructs we humans use to divide reality.

In other words a ‘good experience ‘ or a ‘bad experience ‘ are mental concepts that we come up with to label our experiences based on our fears, our memories or on the speculations of our minds and input from our senses.

Of course, being human beings in a material body living in a material world, we really do need to name, describe, label and judge our relationship to and experience of the world. The problem arises because we finally decide that these subjective experiences are in fact absolute reality and thus blind ourselves to any other options.

Openness is both the path to the goal and the goal itself. The way forward is to keep asking the big Who am I? questions – without insisting on getting hard and fast answers we then proceed to cast in concrete.

Embrace our own subjective experience without allowing it to become our apparent reality that only serves to keep us separated and subject to even more suffering.

Transcend it all. You are all.

All that is.

A Writer’s Gotta Write

‘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.

Even a Leaf: Another Chapter

Namaste Friends

A little note to begin with

Last January I published a post inspired by a favourite verse from the Bhagavad Gita:

If anyone with love and devotion offers me a leaf, a flower, a fruit, or water, I will accept it.                                                        Bhagavad Gita 9:26

If you like you can read the post here, but I will be including the poem that made up that post in this one which shares the same topic,

Today’s post was in fact written during my more recent hospital stay as a record of a very nice encounter with my Bhagavad Gita and a nurse. I’ll only make changes to tidy it up a bit and to make it clearer for you, the reader.

A ministering angel, in the guise of a nurse happened to notice my beloved little Bhagavad Gita sitting on my bed-side cupboard as she went about her healing duties. Picking it up, pausing to gaze at the image of the Lord on the cover, she then exclaimed excitedly:

‘You love Krishna!’ She was already opening and closing my book at random, with a rapt expression on her face.

‘I do love Krishna,’ I replied, happy to connect with a fellow devotee.

‘O my God,’ she cried even more excitedly, ‘you even have leaf. She held up one of the small leaves I’d slipped between the pages. It was as if she was making of it an offering, just as I had when first putting it there, in remembrance of that verse I love.

I think there are at least half a dozen such leaves offered at various times over the years.

Gently, reverently, she put the leaf back in its pages, closed the book carefully, and replaced it in the exact same position on the bed-side table.

‘I am very glad you love Krishna,’ she smiled as she tuned to leave and headed to serve the next one in need of healing.

love and peace

Paul the Hermit

PS

The poem from last January’s post:

Everything & Everywhere

Namaste friends

In the High Holy Lands Where Magic Sometimes Happens

For the last while (long while really. Actually many years), I have dreamed a few times a month, sometimes more, that I am in, about to arrive in, or just about to leave Rishikesh in India.

Rishikesh is a small town straddling the Ganges River, and nestled in the foothills of the Himalayas. For millennia it has been considered a sacred place. Its history replete with stories of divine beings, ancient sages and saints, not to mention its status as a major pilgrimage destination for at least a thousand years and the town becoming ever more popular in recent years for pilgrims and ordinary pleasure seeking tourists from around the world.

This isn’t me but it could be

I last visited Rishikesh in 2016-17 (having previously spent time there in 2006) when my partner hermit and I stayed for several months. I associate that stay with the strengthening and deepening of my spiritual practice as well as the gaining of a kind of clarity in terms of my outlook on the world particularly on the spiritual path that had been calling to me – as it does still.

Putting aside health issues that hinder our mobility, I think it’s fair to say that my attachment to Rishikesh and my longing to return have more or less faded away almost completely over recent years.

Rishikesh has always been a busy, crowded place with the associated traffic, noise, pollution, and inflated prices. Rampant commercialism has long threatened the town’s ‘spiritual ‘ or ‘sacred’ vibe. These days it is the fourth most visited place in India for overseas travellers  so it’s likely to be more busy, choked with traffic, noisy, more commercial and material focused than ever, with the associated degradation of its appeal for some.

But, even if I were also  able to put all this aside, I think the core of the letting go of my longing for Rishikesh has more to do with the turning inward that has accompanied our eventual recognition of our calling to the hermit life with its quiet, secluded, contemplative lifestyle (or the aspiration for that life).

So, why the dreams? Why so often? Well, as I’ve mentioned, Rishikesh has played a significant role in my life. And despite the dropping away of those longings and attachment, I’m not saying going there again is totally out of the realm of possibility, but it no longer has that ‘I’m home’ kind of feeling. No longer has that magnetic attraction for me.

Now, here’s the missing information about these dreams I’ve neglected to mention thus far: Not one of the dreams has been set in the ‘real’ Rishikesh; never have they been ‘geographically correct’ for wont of better description.

Sometimes the dream town is nothing more than a small clump of houses sitting on a hill or in a field with a dirt track passing by.

Other times it is a sizeable town with temples, streets, cafes and shops masquerading as an Indian town. Sometimes it’s simply a story taking place inside a shop or restaurant that, in the dream, I know is in Rishikesh though not in the terrestrial town. There have been dreams in which the town is more like a city with highrise buildings, multi-lane roadways, and all the rest.

The most recent dream had me in a bus headed for another bus connection to Rishikesh. Worried about missing the connection, I was told that the Rishikesh bus wasn’t due ‘for weeks’.

Many and varied settings all standing in for the ‘real’ Rishikesh. But I don’t think I need Carl Jung to tell me the meaning of these dreams. All of them are my internal sacred or significant ‘Rishikesh’. It’s as if the actual geographic location in India called Rishikesh is the illusion and these dreams are the reality for me. All emanating from the cave in my heart

My inner or true Self, you might say, telling me that my being concerned with my specific geographical location is missing the point. A message for me that I am always in Rishikesh, that I am always in sacred space and with saints and sages, and that the Divine is everything and everywhere.

Om Tat Sat

Do Good, Be Good: A How to Guide

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).

Let Go, Just Let Go, Just Let Go Now

Sometimes, when the ears can hear and the eyes can see, there are many signs and wonders to be witnessed; there are communications to be recieved from some seemingly other source than inside our little physical, material selves.

Birds, they say, sing with the voice of God, their song being the song of the Universe, so that the rest of us may hear. Or if you like, a bird’s song opens up within us a kind of portal to the true or Higher Self so we may hear the words of the Divine within.

There is a particular bird that we have often heard, though never seen, who is close to our hermitage, though we also hear others with the same song from farther away.
The song seems simple, but it is profound.

Two sounds, 1,2. Two notes in slightly different keys. Like the hoot of an owl but not low and deep as I imagine an owl’s voice might be. But not especially high or shrill either. Flat? No I wouldn’t say so: each note is unique.

Some days ago my partner hermit was ‘just sitting in the hermitage garden, not focusing on anything in particular, when she heard the bird’s voice again.

And then without volition or any bidding on her part, the words Let Go seemed to superimpose themselves over the two notes of the bird’s call.

Naturally, she shared what she had heard with me, a message from or via the winged one. So, when next I heard the bird call, I automatically heard Let Go, Let Go. Now, it’s difficult to not hear the message in that short song.

But there’s more.

From time to time the bird’s call (or that of a more distant relative) becomes a three part call, 1,2,3, with the first note short, very short but seemingly with a particular stress of its own. Quickly this new variation morphed into the expanded message, Just let go. Sometimes Let go, sometimes Just let go.

But, wait, there is even more, hence this story I am sharing with you now.

Last night, in the dark and quiet of early morning wakefulness, I heard the bird once again, another new variation: again the same 1,2,3, but now with a fourth note added 1,2,3,4,. Now I heard Just let go now.

Let go of what? No need to ask: just let go of random, chaotic, and repetitive thoughts; release tension and worry, fear and anxiety. When? Now. You can’t let go in an hour, or tomorrow, or next Wednesday. There is only now.

This is the song of the cosmos that we have heard. As I can hear, now in the distance, the two tone variation: Let go, let go.

Let go Just let go Just let go now

A Pause (or two) for Reflection

Physiotherapy, formal exercises as well as the myriad of day-to-day activities required to maintain a physical body, is prescribed as the way forward for people like me who have experienced a stroke.

Quite right too. Exercises and activities to build and strengthen muscle to help recover mobility; to repair broken – and develop new – brain pathways to help recover dexterity and increase both micro and macro motor functioning.

But what of psychotherapy? Not the talking, talking and more talking kind that aims to uncover past traumas, root out the cause of current psychological and emotional issues in an attempt to ‘fix’ you. While talking can be hugely helpful, (I mean it. Talking to a trusted friend, relative or professional, provides not only emotional support, but can give you new perspectives and fresh insights into even the most intractable issues).

What I’m getting at here is more about therapy for the complete psyche: the emotions and the mind and including the spirit or soul.

It is about the rebuilding of confidence – the ‘I am able’ attitude – and it is about filling the void to evolve a meaningful life.

The refuge that each day I commit to take in the divine will of the universe is where this care of the psyche -the inner me, if you like – begins.

Pause for reflection #1: If I take refuge in the will of that which is on the face of it ‘a higher power’ than my own, then why the big efforts at ‘filling the void’. Sounds like I’m resisting that divine will, or somehow refusing to acknowledge the reality of my life as it is.

Of course the ‘making of effort’ and doing our bit is absolutely vital and necessary. So I pray, I meditate, I read, I sit quietly, I create what and when I can. And I make blog notes like this and they also count.

But it doesn’t feel enough. It’s like I’m trying too hard to get to some point I’ve actually acknowledged I’m already at: in the shelter of the will of the universe.

I don’t like to say it, but I’m bored, and I think it is the constant ‘trying’ that is the big obstacle to having a more rounded and holistic approach and attitude to living here and now with life as it actually is for me at this moment.

‘Trying’ suggests the going outside of the present. Making huge straining efforts to make things other than they are. Hardly living in the moment is it?

There are long periods when I find myself sitting with ‘nothing to do’ (I cant read, write, create and pray all the time as in 24/7 can I?)

Pause for reflection #2: Why not? You may very well be asking, as indeed I am asking myself right now. Perhaps these spaces and times are the will of the Divine specifically designed for me to learn to sit in silence and to simply be.
Maybe they offer spaces and times for me to be quiet; opportunities to simply be open to receive, lessons in presence.

Not only that, perhaps they are healing times when all the fragments of my psyche can settle back into their rightful place.

So, the problem is the solution, is what I seem to be saying here. The times I am describing here and which I often face and experience with dread, are precisely gifts of grace granted to me to help me heal, and teach me to sit in silence learning to listen.

Yes, keeping silent except when and how it is the divine will of the universe might be quite nice.

Cries of the Winged Ones

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

The Word is the Word

OM IS THE WORD
Om
In the beginning was the Word
Om
And the Word was with God
Om
And the Word was God
Om
And the Word is God
Om Om Om

Om
The object is the Word
Om
The subject is the Word
Om

Om
The observed is the Word
Om
The observer is th Word
Om

Om
The Word is the Word
Om
There is only the Word
Om
It is as it is – the Word
Om Om Om

Listen: It’s Already Silent

‘I must be back in the blog writing mode, I’m really hanging out for a new topic.’ I blurted out to my partner hermit just now.

Actually, it was desperate. What I actually said was ‘I’m really desperate‘ for a new topic. I quickly modified it to anxious then again to keen, in an attempt to keep the sound of attachment out of my voice. Finally, in these notes, it’s morphed into ‘hanging out’ which is obviously no better at all.

Her reply needs no disclaimer, no modification: ‘The answer comes from the silence,’ she said quietly.

I’ve actually had a relatively quiet – even silent – day: resting in recovery, laying on my bed, sometimes sleeping, sometimes simply following my breath.

Mind wandering, of course, that’s what minds do after all. But overall at least a semblance of silence seemed to be the order of the day.

Even then, after all that silence, quiet, rest and mostly a not overly busy mind, the best I can come up with is ‘I’m desperate’?

As in, I’m really hanging out; really anxious; really keen. As in, I”m not really listening – not at all silent. In fact, so full of desire, clinging and attachment for a new blog topic was I, that actually noticing one come out of the ‘silence’ would likely take a miracle.

All day – hours – I lie still. As I said, only sometimes sleeping, the rest of those several hours watching my breath, attempting just to be in silence and in the stillness.

So is it me? Am I missing something? An answer has come (here I am making notes for a new blog post), but what’s this ‘silence’ business from where answers apparently come all about?

Clearly, silence does not always seem to require an absolute, complete, and total absence of noise, voice, words, thoughts, if it is indeed the source of ‘answers’.

Maybe silence itself produced an apparent state of attachment to a new blog idea as a kind of ruse or trick to have my Self fool myself into seeing the foolishness of attachment as well as showing me how silence really works – in the real world.

Silence is not some sort of rarified mystical state that we have to enter through rigorous spiritual practices. It is actually a condition that emerges from everyday moments, ‘random’ thoughts, or comments made seemingly without thought or any apparent significance or meaning. Actually silence lives everywhere, is in everything and is all the time.

Listen and you’re there