Category Archives: monk in the world

Tripping On the Sidewalk

Posted on by
Reply

Walking home, returning to the sanctuary of the hermitage, I fell over. Or to be exact, I tripped.

It’s not the first time I’ve tripped in my life, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. Mind you, I’m not supposed to be making speculations about the future; after all, I may never fall over (or trip) again.

Let me share with you how I came to find myself lying on the ground, fully conscious thankfully, with only a few grazes on arms and knees, and a sore spot on the side of my head.

Walking along the sidewalk quite freely, earbuds feeding my ears and my heart my favourite mantra to Ganesha – known as the remover of obstacles and the God of wisdom. (more on the earbud issue later)

At one point I noticed, a few metres ahead, what appeared to be the back of a largish sign board leaning against the base of an electricity pole growing out of the pavement.

Not the actual sidewalk

Without any thought whatsoever, as I came up to that pole, I turned my head to the left to see what the sign read. Next thing I know, is I have the sense of falling. Later I remembered that at the exact moment I turned my head, my foot caught the broken and uneven edge of a slab of the pavement.

I was blessed by two passersby who stopped and helped me back to my feet, and stayed with me as I regained some semblance  of my bearings. Thank you to those two good and kind ones.

Now, I don’t like falling over (well, when you think about it, who does?), but in this case I can say through this fall, I have learned a couple of good lessons.

Presence – or lack thereof. Here I am, the hermit monk who is supposedly constantly practising being present, in the moment, here and now; yet I tripped over what I later discovered was a really obvious, clear obstacle on my path.

We all get distracted, you might be thinking. And, yes, it’s true. We can be paying close attention, fully focused, riveted to and in the moment, and, suddenly distraction barges in – in the form of a thought, an external noise, visual imput, and even a broken pavement. You name it, and mind will use any excuse it can to manifest a distraction.

Another lessen – intimately related to presence –  is pausing, or not! As I noticed that sign coming up, I could have chosen to pause to look at it once I reached it.

Then, rather than being a distraction, looking at that sign would have simply been another moment in the ongoing flow of the present. In other words, there’d have been no tripping.

The actual earbuds in question

Now, to the earbud issue. To be honest, my earbuds have more or less replaced my regular over the ears headphones. Because I was never comfortable going out and about with those clunky things on my head and earbuds have allowed me to listen to music pretty much whenever and wherever  I go. Even to me wearing them, they are barely noticeable. It’s possible that’s the problem right there: unnoticeable.

More than 30 years ago now, I spent every Tuesday evening for a year attending classes at a school of philosophy . To this day I still follow some of the practices I learned there. And, passed to me were so many good lessons, so much good knowledge drawn from many of the world’s spiritual and intellectual traditions. So many of these lessons have stuck with me.

Presence, or rather the benefits and rewards of realizing  the present is all there is, was I would say, one of the cornerstones of those teachings.

One illustration about presence concerned driving, and although at the time I haddn’t learned to drive, it resonated with me. Our teacher told us that, when she was driving, she never listened to music or anything else. She told us that she simply put her full attention on the task at hand: driving.

She described how it often happened that when driving she’d reach her destination with little or no memory of the actual act of driving or any landmarks or events on the trip itself. She said it was if she was somehow unconscious, yet still able to drive ‘on autopilot’ was how she put it.

And of course it’s not a phenomenon limited to driving: how much of our routine daily activity runs on autopilot?

Anyway, back to the other day and me grooving to Ganesh in my ears and tripping in a moment of inattention.

I don’t recall being distracted by the mantra in my head, or moving on autopilot. But, thinking back, I was in one of the busiest sections of the little town that hosts our hermitage. I’d been to the supermarket, the parking lot of which is as busy – and crazy –  as one you would find in any big city.

Just another sidewalk tripper

So, I realise now, I had already kind of set myself up to fall for any distraction that happened to come along. While I don’t really remember myself as being ‘unconscious’ of my surroundings or of the path itself, clearly I wasn’t completely there, not in the here and now sense if you know what I mean. Just an after thought: who remembers ‘being unconscious? Nobody I think!

Whatever I say now, I wasn’t present; I wasn’t fully in the moment, not paying attention to either what I was doing or what was going on around me.

Since my little trip, I have vowed before my hermit community to not ever walk again in a built up and busy area wearing my earbuds.

Not only do I have a sense of danger lurking when I think of the idea of wearing them in those situations, but I also feel that it’s not exactly being present, in the here and now is it?

Another closed cafe on some other trip

Okay, I am very sure you are waiting with great anticipation to learn what what fateful sign, put in my way by the Universal Traffic Controller to push me into changing direction, actually said:

It was a handwritten advertisement for ‘great coffee’ to be had in a cafe across the road. A closed cafe I might add.

On Main Road –  a road that more than lives up to its name –  perhaps there are worse fates awaiting the inattentive than merely tripping on the sidewalk.

Where? & When? Here & Now

Posted on by
Reply


There, dear friends, right there, in the title are our next two W questions, as well as the answers to both.

The answer is brief, succinct, right to the point, yes indeed. But somehow to me it doesen’t seem very helpful, a bit vague.

Here and now. Let’s look at this tricky little phrase. On the face of it Here and Now has an obvious meaning: if we choose to think on it in the spirit of our ongoing contemplation on my prayer life, it’s very clear. Here and now is a timely reminder to me to pray right where I am, right now, wherever I might be; and whatever the time, day or night.

But it’s not really a very satisfying answer is it? Here and Now? It seems too flippant to me, too bland, even a bit of a ‘catch all’ cliche thrown around without any real insight into its meaning or importance.

Anyway, moving right along …

We are exhorted to pray without ceasing in the Christian Bible with similar exhortations found in so many other texts and scriptures from many faith traditions.

Remember my aspiration to make of my life a prayer? Well, that’s the idea: to pray without ceasing. Which translates to mean that everything I do, say, think, feel (what else?) will be prayer – or I can also say a prayer. Life is a prayer, life is lived as a prayer.

Of course the precise forms my prayer takes are – and will ever be – many and varied. We’ll be looking at some of those forms and types later in the How post of this series. But, for now, allow me to brainstorm on the topic for a bit.

Consider washing the dishes, a task we all find ourselves engaged in to some degree or other. I have a sense that my feelings towards dish washing is actually quite neutral. Don’t get me wrong: if I never had to wash a dish again you would not hear me complain.

At the same time, I have absolutely no hard feelings against washing dishes.I just get on with it, just like most everybody else.

Sticking with dish washing …

Most often dishes need washing as a consequence of preparing, cooking, and eating food, for a meal or meals. Right there is an obvious opportunity for a simple prayer of gratitude.

It might be a simple whispered thank you for the gifts of the nourishment, satisfaction, even pleasure of the meal. Anyway, just a random first thought on the subject.

There are a few other points to be made in our little dish washing thought exercise as it fits into my own prayer life.

Sometimes, while actually dish washing and cleaning up, I might chant mentally, or otherwise pray with words – set prayers. Prayers of praise or gratitude; mainly whatever pops into mind. Go with the flow is the theme here.

Now, that’s one thought. Next: I might decide to be quiet while washing up. That is not speaking and being as silent inside as I can be.

On these occasions I just focus as intently as I can on what I’m doing: washing dishes. I make it an occasion for not doing the dishes just to get them done, or to get them out of the way, or to put an end to an onerous chore.

Rather, it’s more an opportunity to simply wash the dishes, by being with the dishes and the actions required to clean them. Just a little aside: this particular form of mindful (prayerful) dish washing actually results in cleaner dishes. It’s been proven scientifically.

These two approaches to washing dishes – not to mention all the other means and forms of prayer – are not necessarily mutually exclusive, nor are they the only one: a given dish washing event might involve several prayer modes.

Which leads me to the next thought that I had more or less forgotten…

Sometimes I do indeed slip into that old ‘Just get the blank blank things done’ frustration mood. And it doesn’t just happen when faced with the dishes!

It goes without saying that I wouldn’t need an aspiration if I was already acting full time in that prayerful manner. I do practise – sometimes with more determination than others – performing all my actions mindfully (aka prayerfully), though there’s far to go for me in the praying ceaselessly department.

So, to a good question you may be asking: Is there somewhere (or multiple somewheres) that I go to to pray? Some special sacred or holy place?

Well, I know that we are always all of us standing on sacred ground – it is all the Divine. Still, there are places that help me, all of us, feel closer to that divinity, to the sacred, to God, or whatever we call it.

There are places that exude that special vibe, or have a certain  atmosphere of calm, quiet, or stillness, that are conducive to prayer.

An apparently random glance skyward blessed me with this moment and this place of prayer

Talking about the idea that we are always standing and walking on sacred ground,  there are often places I come across that speak to me as places of prayer. It might be a tree, like the one pictured here; it might be a  distant view of a lake and the hills beyond.

Such places call to me to stop. Perhaps for a moment, perhaps to sit and linger and pray with words, or with silence.

In the Hermitage, there is  temple, a room we have set aside for that purpose, and no other. From the very first day I set this room aside as a temple, I have felt a stillness there, a tranquil vibe.

Among such spontaneous  little moments, there are times I simply stop and stare at a flower, or without thought put my hand on a tree. I will whisper a quiet thank you and a blessing to the Divinity I sense there.

Temples, churches, chapels, prayer rooms, mosques, and other types of sacred sites from andy and all spiritual and religious traditions, attract me as well.

These are all places people have spent time in praying, contemplating their lives and their union with the Divine. All that energy, all that love and devotion has caused an atmosphere of holiness, or sacredness to build up over what can be years, centuries, even millennia, in some places I have prayed.

But, really, when all is said and done, anywhere and anywhen can be and is a place for prayer. Here, in this booth, in the cafe at the lakeshore near the Hermitage, I make these notes in a mood of prayer, a prayer of love and devotion.

Being present, mindful, and prayerful in all I do, that’s my aspiration. Here and Now. Anywhere and anywhen; it’s all prayer.

Well, that’s my prayer anyway.

A Love Song to a Love Song

Posted on by
Reply

Deceptively simple is how I’d thought to describe the lyrics of a love song by John Lennon I heard again recently for the first time in years.

But, no I thought straight away, that’s not right. The message of the song is simple, and the lyrics convey that message to us just as simply.

Of course why the song is so powerful – and personally significant to me and so many others – is that, while the message may be simple, the ramifications of really hearing the lyrics, really digging the words and trying to put them into action, are far from simple or limited and have few if any boundaries of any kind.

The one word title of the song I’m talking about says it all: Love. Lennon included Love on his first solo album with the Plastic Ono Band, which was released in 1970. So not actually a solo album, but you know what I mean.

The original purpose of this post was to share with you a poem I wrote in response to reconnecting with this masterpiece.

While I will still be sharing that poem, I thought I would first let you see the lyrics of Love put together through my own listenings to the song itself. No copyright breach is intended here. I only print the lyrics for illustration purposes, and besides, if you can’t share a song called Love, by John Lennon, what can you share?

If before or after reading the lyrics you prefer to actually listen to the song being sung by John, then just head here for a great early version.

Love is real, real is love.
Love is feeling, feeling love.
Love is wanting to be loved.

Love is touch, touch is love.
Love is reaching, reaching love.
Love is asking to be loved.

Love is you,
You and me.
Love is knowing
We can be.

Love is free, free is love,
Love is living, living love.
Love is needing to be loved.

You see? Simple lyrics, simple melody, but the message! It’s all about the message. Or is it an invocation? A love mantra?

Mind you, the song is presented in such a light-hearted and gentle soft manner, that it might be easy for some to dismisss the message as being merely wishful or fluffy thinking. But, there really isn’t anything fluffy about love is there?

Now, to my response. Well one response among many I should say. I offer this poetic effort in humility and gratitude – indeed, in and with love.

‘Cos as John wrote in another great anthem:

All you need is love

Peace from Paul the Hermit

JOHN WROTE A LOVE SONG

John was a singer and a writer of songs.
John was a friend of mine – yet never known personally.
Yet known by me all my life.
A fab friend for everyone.

John wrote songs, songs he sang,
lyrics given life by voices
very few heard.
It was hysterical.

He wrote a love song, a song I heard and loved.
In fact, a whole lot of love songs he wrote.
One verse, in that one song, caught my ear, snatched at my heart.

This is the verse,
    the stanza I love:
       Love is you
       You and me
       Love is knowing
       We can be.

No sickly, sweet sentiment this.
Not like some plastic bobble-head
lurking in some grubby rear window.
No, as the song he wrote says:
Love is real.

Love not for the sake of getting it right all the time;
Love not for the sake of always looking like the good guy;
Love not for the sake of a distant and cold devotion;
But love,
Love for you alone.

What? It’s the Next Question

Posted on by
Reply

I’m rewriting this post after initially making it another two for one thing. One of those two questions had been: ‘What is prayer?’. As in what form can and does prayer take, my prayer that is.

Then I realised that all the thoughts, all the contemplations and reflections I came up with in answer, belonged more correctly in the How question which will be coming in due course.

Which means, that in this post we will be looking at just the one question, which also is only about my own personal prayer life.

What do I pray for?

As it happens, I have already spent a little time on this question in the Why do I pray? post back in November. I think it would be a good start to begin this post with a quote from that one:

  ‘So,’ you might ask, ‘you pray without any ulterior motive at all? You don’t pray to get things? You don’t pray for healing for others or yourself? You don’t pray for peace and happiness for the world or for yourself? None of these things?’
  These are good, valid questions. And the short answer is yes, of course I do. I do pray for healing for others and myself; I do pray for communal and personal peace. As for happiness, well who doesn’t pray in one way or another for a just a little happiness now and again?
  However, I do draw the line at praying for material things, like money and material objects to possess, none of those kind of things. I believe I don’t pray for such things. I think so anyway.

Now, I don’t know about you, but it seems to me that those two last little sentences are broadcasting a very clear message: Obviously there is some uncertainty in my thoughts about what I actually in fact do pray for.

Somewhere, sometime, recently I wrote to the effect of that there is nothing to pray for, and that there is nobody to do the praying. This, of course is not a notion we can really get to grips with while living in a material body in a material Universe.

It’s nore for those dwelling in some transcendental realm where everything that exists has ceased to exist, and all that remains is pure consciousness.

So, obviously while we continue our existence as embodied beings, living in a material universe, there is much to pray for and there are many of us who do pray. Speaking only for myself personally, I know I could pray more, better, and deeper. As I’ve mentioned many times, my aspiration is to make my entire life – physical, mental, spiritual, – a prayer.

Okay, that’s all very good and fine, but I still haven’t answered the question: What do I pray for?

Well, as I mention in the quoted passages above, I pray for healing and peace for other people, the world, and for myself. I pray for happiness, health, and freedom from suffering for all beings.

But it’s not that I’m directing my prayer to some being up there in some heavenly realm who sits arbitrarily dispensing favours or denying them, and who acts according to the quality and quantity of prayers sent their way.

No, it’s more about, as I talk about in Who do I pray to? the post before this one, directing my attention, thoughts, actions and everything else, to the symbols that represent for me the natural flow of the laws and order of the Universe. Why?

Seeking alignment, I think that’s the best answer. By praying I am seeking to align myself, to put myself in sync with those natural laws, with the flow of that natural order.

Referring to the quote above, the peace and healing I pray for are like affirmations of my desire for that alignment, and that the entirety of Self itself be in alignment. That Self I speak of is of course all that exists in the Universe.

It’s similar when talking about praying for material ‘things’ while remembering too, that healing and peace are also in fact ‘things’ of the material world. Perhaps the best way to put it is to say that it is not the ‘things’ themselves that I pray for. With the risk of sounding like i’m repeating myself, it is correct alignment with all material existence that I am praying for.

Actually, it is more than that now I think about it. My prayer – and my life – is actually about my seeking to properly and fully realise that (to quote the glorious Desiderata:

No doubt the universe is unfolding as it should

We suffer when we label that unfoldig or a person, a thing or event or whatever as good or bad, desirable or undesirable; when we think there is a them and there is a me or an us always separated; when we are compelled to gather possessions and yet still think we never have enough. These are the dualities of material nature.

My prayer is to realise, not just know in my mind, but realise in my heart, that there are no dualities. There is only … Ummm. Well, perhaps that’s it: There is. Only. Nothing else. Only. Is.

May all beings come to know their Isness.

Who? Just One of Many Questions

Posted on by
2

In November last year I published a post on this blog that sought to answer the question, Why do I pray?
In that post I said that this question is one of the big ‘Who am I’, Self-Enquiry questions.

I also claimed in that post that it was (is) a core aspiration of mine that I make prayer a ‘whole of life activity’. To quote me from that post:

You see, I want to pray, and make my whole life a prayer. A prayer of praise and devotion; a prayer of gratitude and loving; and a prayer of service to all beings .

Anyway, moving along to today’s post.

That question, why do I pray, is one I ask myself quite often. It’s not a one time enquiry you can tick off and move on from. The contemplation of why pray is an ongoing and evolving thing.

A couple of days ago, as I once again reflected on this particular question, it occured to me that perhaps it wasn’t the only one I needed to be asking myself if I am to think about my prayer life in any depth. Actually, the same could be said for pretty much anything one is trying to find answers to.

Indeed, many writers – particularly story tellers and journalists – will be aware of the series of questions often used to get to the truth of something:

Who? What? When? Where? Why? and How?

Commonly refered to as the ‘The Five W Questions’ (although there is that H in the mix leading to some calling them the WH Questions), these questions asked correctly and thoughtfully, will help to ensure a comprehensive and complete answer to any enquiry.

The next thought popping in suggested that it might be a great idea to apply the W Questions (including the H) to me and my prayer life.

At first I thought it seemed like a neat challenge, a kind of intellectual exercise that would be interesting. Then, though, after thinking about it some more, I realised that contrary to being just some mental challenge, asking myself these questions in relation to my prayer life, might actually be essential.

Especially if I am to some day reach fulfillment of my aspiration to make of my whole life a prayer. It’s the only way, I reasoned, that I would be able to get complete picture of the state of my prayer life.

Of course I have to wonder if it is indeed possible to ever get a ‘complete picture’ of a phenomenon such as an individual’s prayer life. Still, let’s just plunge in, see where it goes, what happens, how it works.

Who

There are actually two ‘who’ questions that I’d like to try to answer, both essential to our enquiry:

Who is it that’s praying? And Who do I pray to?

The answer to the first question is obvious: it’s me doing the praying. But, which me exactly? Not the me who is the true Self, the Absolute Reality. The reason why will become clear as we go along.

No, the me doing the praying is what we might call the body mind complex, the me that lives in the material world as a material being. The impulse to pray, what to pray, who to pray to and all the rest arises in the mind.

Mind you, I along with so many others I’m sure, like to say that I pray with and from my heart, my spiritual heart. But then I do also know that emotions originate as thoughts in the mind. Of course that does not lessen the significance of such emotions and the prayers, love, or devotion that follows.

Now, who do I pray to? I know it’s going to sound a bit odd, flippant and even silly, but as I think about it, I realise that I do in fact pray to everyone and to everything.

Which is to say, my prayers are directed to that invisible ‘something’ that pervades and permeates – and actually is  – everything that exists. You could say that I pray to existence itself. There is nothing or nobody else.

Of course it’s not exactly an easy thing to get a handle on praying to ‘everything and everybody’. I mean, where does one direct their attention? Who or what does one address or speak to? The answer is a lot more straightforward than you might think at first.

Because my prayers are to that amorphous ‘everything and everybody’ it’s quite easy to select one or more resonating and meaningful somethings or somebodys as the objects of my prayer.

There are many spiritual or religious traditions in the world, all with their preferred names and forms of the Divine (or Existence as I named it earlier). Each of these manifestations of the Divine has its own characteristics, their own place in the Universe. They each play their own roles in the cosmic order.

As such there are more or less an infinite number of choices for me to have as foci for my prayer life. I will try to share with you a few of my personal pantheon.

Om: The Essence of Brahman, Absolute Reality

The Existence I’ve mentioned a couple of times is named by some Brahman, the Ultimate Reality, the everything and everybody that I was talking about.

So, I might sometimes pray to Brahman. Mainly it’s an aspirational prayer as I seek to realise fully my already existent oneness with the Ultimate Reality.

Then there is Ishvara, which is probably closer to what most would recognise as God – a personal supreme being, Or, in some traditions Ishvara simply refers to the one or more deities that an individual chooses as objects of her or his devotion.

Centre of Attention on the Hermitage temple alter

Also included in my personal pantheon, are the Divine Mother, Kirishna, Ganesha, Lord Jesus, The Buddha, Sarasvati, as well as other teachers and saints from many traditions who pop in and out of my prayers, seemingly at random.

My prayers are of praise and/or gratitude to the teacher, deity or saint who seems to me at that moment to be most linked to my current circumstances and thoughts.

All of this I call prayer. To God. Or Brahman or Ishvara. Or very often, simply My Lord,

Divine Mother

And in Conclusion: According to the Text Message

Posted on by
Reply

Welcome to the continuation and conclusion of the topic we were discussing in our last post. We are spending some time reflecting on a text message I received some days ago.

A multi layered text and one full of treasures on leading a purposeful and satisfying spiritual or inner life. If you missed it, please feel free to visit that post here.

In that previous post I included an image of the text in question, and we ended up looking rather deeply and prayerfully at the first sentence in the text:

Go sit in your cell and your cell with teach you everything.

In today’s post I hope to share with you my contemplation and rigorous reflections on the remainder of the text message.

So, let’s carry on with the next little bit of that text message.

Create your own inner world

This little gem speaks directly to the notion that it is your body and mind themselves that are the primary places in which you dwell; they are your cell that you carry around with you (or perhaps it is they that carry you around) always and everywhere.

And in that cell, where you dwell, you are the creator of the world. It needn’t be a fantasy world, as we might think of an inner world we create for ourselves. It need not be made up of wishful thinking, dreams, or endless thinking about the past, future, fears, regrets and all the other stuff we are prone to.

Rather it can be a place where you content yourself with the constant efforts to remain in the present; it can be a place in which your disciplined and focused mind and heart remain on those self enquiry questions which will ultimately lead you to the full realisation of who you really are, what is your true nature.

There’s a paradox here it occurs to me as I type: while everything that exists in the universe is simply a manifestation of Absolute Reality, (and that includes you and me obviously) the only way to actually discover or realise this knowledge is by delving deeply in our own hearts and minds – and sitting in our cells. We won’t find it ‘out there’.

The outer world will reflect the inner peace

So, with all this inner – self – enquiry cause the big shift? Will you see and experience only bliss and happiness? Will the ills of your body suddenly vanish never to return?
Well, yes. And no.

No because as living entities we are able to do our bit in making our lives what they can be; we can do our part in keeping a healthy body and mind; we can play our part in making the world a better place for all living beings.

Ultimately, though, it is the natural order, the natural laws of the universe that controls, directs, and manifests how all of the material world – including us obviously – operates and works itself out.

Yes, because the committed and rigorous discipline necessary to sit in our cells and enquire into our true natures, will over time and step by step help us to change the way we look at all the troubles and events of the world and our own minds and bodies. Our perspective will undergo a big shift (not quite the one mentioned earlier; this one’s for real).

You see, there are three sources from which our suffering come from: other people, nature, and our own bodies and minds. Self-Enquiry will lead us to realise that our true nature is in fact the totality of all there is, the Absolute Reality.

After this realisation of the truth of our natures, the sources of suffering (other people, nature, and our own body and mind) are still going to be there, going about their business as usual. It’s just that we won’t be as affected by them like we were before; we won’t suffer as we once did.

Maintain Equilibrium

Having read this far you might well be thinking that, yes indeed, the realisation of our true natures, the evolving knowledge that we are not simply the mind and body, and that we are in fact the Absolute Reality, just might lead to a life of balance, of equilibrium. Of calm in the face of crises and problems, peace in the wake of strife.

Well, umm yes, that’s all entirely true. But as for me, I can say I’m nowhere near that state yet. And I suspect nor are most people, and most of us will be trying for a few more lifetimes (if there are any more that is) before we make it.
Mind you, equilibrium does seem to come in little bursts, like a kind of reconditioning process. Sometimes I realise that I am indeed acting more calmly, with more equanimity to situations that might once have thrown me completely off balance.

I’ll admit, though it’s an issue that frustrates me (you see? That proves I’m still identifying with and attached to, the idea that I am a body and mind only). I ask myself, how come with all the spiritual practice, the meditation, and all the sitting in my cell, I can still suffer with annoyance and irritation or collapse with existential angst, rant at injustice … You know what I’m talking about.

All I can do, all any of us can do, is persevere with the enquiry into self; Who is it exactly that’s losing it right now?
Of course it’s ‘me’, but is it really? It is the mind and its emotions and the ego. But it isn’t me, and it’s not you.

Be Still

One of the beauties of this wonderful text message, is that the individual injunctions have built – are building – one upon the other in a nicely logical and understandable way.

Now, the advice to be still: Of course we can take it at face value and take it to mean we are to literally sit with our bodies very still in the one place, in the one spot. Not moving.

Well, it seems the Desert Fathers and Mothers  had a saying or a word of advice to fit every situation. I came across a quote from Abba Ammonas, that sits as a kind of caveat, or perhaps a sort of reality check when thinking of sitting still:

A person may remain for a hundred years in his [sic] cell without learning to live in the cell.

Meaning obviously, that thinking we are still doesn’t mean we actually are still. Well, yes it does actually. But it’s only a part of the picture that we name stillness.

For example, right this moment I am making these notes, I’m looking up references online, listening to Bob Marley on my headphones, and every few minutes I’m taking a sip of tea.

Yet I feel quite still. I sense real focus on every one of these particular tasks as I’m performing them. I am feeling pretty calm and even a tad relaxed. Believe it, for me these are big achievements. Actually this very much speaks to a concept called Action in Inaction, and Inaction in Action. If you’re interested, there’s a fascination article here.

In other words, I think I am actually being still. My thoughts are focused as I said. I’m even in the moment well enough to pause everything else to listen to something from Bob in my ear that speaks to me.

I don’t think anyone can tell you how to be still. Not only is it going to be different from every one of us, being still will always vary and fluctuate in quality and degree. You might say it’s one of those ‘it depends’ kind of things.

I am

Ask yourself: Who am I? Usually the answer comes back: I am … followed by a name, designation, label, an identity of some kind.

Nothing wrong with this. In fact it is natural: it’s how members of our species place ourselves – and everyone else – in the order of things; we need to know our position and that of others in order to negotiate our way through and in the world.

So, what happens when I ask myself that big who am I question? Well, I could answer: I am Paul, I am a hermit, I am a writer, I am servant of God, I am tall, I am a friend, I am a …

Stop! These are all things I do or roles I take on and fill by choice or otherwise. They’re not me, though they are ways for me to describe the ‘me’ that exists and acts in the material world.

It seems according to Ramana‘s teachings on Self-Enquiry that the only way we can discover who or what we are is to list instead what we are not.

Neti Neti it’s called: not this, not this. But most of us feel very strongly that we do in fact exist. In other words we are – or referring to myself – I am.

If I’m not to confuse myself with the misidentification , the temporary labels, and other limiting beliefs as I try to answer my own Who am I? question, then the best I can do is metaphorically shrug my shoulders and answer, ‘Well, I am’.

Which means I think we’ve reached the point where we may finally realise that there is actually no answer to our enquiry; we simply are.

There is nothing to ask; nothing to answer. Only pure being, as in existing: the Absolute Reality. There’s nobody to do the asking.

And in the example of this text message the expression I am, speaks as a kind of signature of the text sender. No names, no labels or self-identifiers or anything else. I aim.

Some musings for you

Last, but most definitely not least is this, a final PS if we can call it that. A reminder that I am to contemplate on all the above, that I am to reflect on the words of the text.

And I’m very happy that I’ve spent this time sharing that contemplation, those reflections, with you.

I am. You are. We are
(actually there is only I am, but you know what I mean

When You Say It All in a Text Message

Posted on by
3

It wouldn’t be quite correct to say that I never get calls or texts on my phone. What would be correct is to say is that the vast majority are to do with what I might call The Bureaucracy: Reminders of Doctor and dentist appointments, notices from various government bodies, library notices; all that kind of thing.

And there is another emerging category that’s actually a lot more welcome: while my partner hermit and I have always phoned each other, lately we’ve been texting more and more as an extra way to communicate with each other.

Sometimes these texts are about the mundane things we all have to do in the world, but then there’s another dimension in which texting allows us to keep in touch with each other’s feelings, thoughts, doings, and simply as a means of keeping the connection open and strong.

The other day, for example, such a text arrived unannounced in my phone. Like some I get from The Bureaucracy, this one was essentially a little series of reminders. But rather than being about the things of the outside world, these ones, in this text, spoke directly and deeply to the enrichment of the inner life – my inner life.

Powerful messages, all of them, that really go to the heart of one’s (my) efforts to live a life more centred on my spiritual quest and my commitment to living more in sync with Absolute Reality.

On first reading of this text (and on each rereading, of which there have been many), I really felt strongly that I needed to contemplate deeply and prayerfully on the pieces of this whole. And, as well, to share my reflections with you.

Sit in your cell as in Paradise

This little – yet tremendous – injunction references an answer to a question posed to Abba Moses, one of the early Desert Fathers:

Go sit in your cell and your cell will teach you everything.

Essentially Moses’ advice is, remain within the confines of your dwelling place – whatever and wherever form that place takes. This can be a literal geographical location, or even your own body as it moves in the world. We all have a body, we all dwell there.

Sitting in one’s cell is not a simple or passive activity. It is in fact hard work as we wrestle with the mad monkey mind, and attempt to grow spiritually.

So, what about the ‘as in Paradise’ bit? Well, to me this feels very much like thinking of one’s cell as the place to be. What I mean to say is that it’s the only you can possibly be in right now, in the present of the here and now.

It’s not about judgements of is it good or bad, pleasant or unpleasant, painful or not. Just acceptance of where youu’re at right now. Doesn’t mean you’re stuck there and by no means suggests you resign yourself to your circumstances. It simply means you see it like it is, at this moment.

And it’s about understanding that, while you are in that place, it’s where you know you need to be. Your cell – your dwelling place – has within it everything you need to live, grow, learn, and prosper in the spiritual life.

Whatever the ‘place’ you are in is like, we can try to cocoon ourselves, make a space within the space, even if it is just being aware of our bodies sitting in the space. Cocoon myself is an expression I’ve been using lately to describe the act of isolating myself in any way I can from my surroundings. This can apply on the macro scale or the micro as we seek to centre ourselves and find quiet and a peaceful place.

It’s not as if in this cocoon (or whatever it might be)  that  all will be bliss and light all of a sudden. No, I think the suggestion here is we try to develop an attitude of non-attachment towards the things of the world that trouble us, those things that cause us suffering, precisely because we are attached to them.

That is the purpose of sitting in your cell. That is the everything that your cell will teach you.

You know my friends, I’m a bit weary tonight, and with your permission I will continue with this sharing of my contemplation, my reflections, in my next post.

Thank you for staying with me.

Peace and love

Paul the Hermit

Are the Hermit Pilgrims Settling Down?

Posted on by
Reply

Stand by for an announcement:

The Hermit Pilgrims have signed a lease for the rent of a house for a year. Not only have we signed a lease, we have, in fact as of yesterday, been residing in the said leased property.

Admittedly, it’s exactly the sort of small house which we had in fact been longing for for some time. It’s got many characteristics that make it for us, the ideal site for a hermitage: we even have a temple room!

The lease is for a year initially, and if,  after a year we feel led to move on, then that’s what we shall do. But for now, – as in the present moment that is the ongoing now, the only ‘time’ one can talk about with any meaning or truth – we will be in the one hermitage, the one safehaven by the side of the road, for a longer period than in any other in the last many years.

Anyway, enough of this reflection on the nature of time; the big question on your mind I am sure is why? Well, the first little thing to say is that the pilgrimage goes on; it’s just that we’ve taken a tiny step towards the vow of stability many monks and nuns make as a matter of course. We’ve not really ever taken such a vow before. Mind you, a lease is a binding document, I wonder does that count as a vow?

Of course, as I’ve just laboriously spelled out, there is only the moment, the ongoing now; so who can possibly say about ‘a year’?

Next, let me tell you a bit about a book I’ve read a few times and like very much. It will possibly give you a flavour of the why.

Cave in the Snow  by Vicki Mackenzie tells the story of Tenzin Palmo, a Tibetan Buddhist nun and her, I think, twelve years in solitu6de in a nearly all year round snowed in cave in the high Himalayas.

Tenzin Palmo had been living in a rather remote monastery, but felt after some years the need for greater isolation and solitude. The monastery was too busy and noisy, with all sorts of comings and goings.

There was too much entanglement with the greater society in the form of the surrounding villages and town. She wanted some quiet basically

In an interview sometime after she came down from the mountains she was asked if going to a cave was perhaps an escape, an ‘evasion of the trials of an “ordinary” life. Her reply spoke to me when I first read it about 20 (or more?) years ago, and still does today:

‘Not at all. To my mind worldly life is an escape,’ she replied to the interviewer. ‘When you have a problem you can turn on the television, phone a friend, go out for a coffee. In a cave, however, you have no one to turn to but yourself.

You have no choice, she says, when problems come up, and when things get tough, but to go through with them, till you come out the other side.

‘In a cave,’ she said, ‘ you face your own nature in the raw, you have to find a way of working with it and dealing with it.’

My situation is not quite like hers. For example there is more than one person in our community of hermits. Still her story does resonate and speaks very much to my own situation.

Not only is there never going to be any absolute certainty in our material world, there is never – ever – going to be anything in the realm of worldly things that will deliver us perfect peace and lasting happiness.

Easy to repeat, this tidbit of transcendental knowledge, but quite another to get oneself unattached to the idea that, well, maybe, just maybe, the next big thing, might just be different, might indeed be the forever answer to peace and happiness.

And it’s that attachment that I’m tackling at the moment.You see I long for a more pure hermit life, a life with a lot less engagement – and entanglement with – worldly things and situations.

I once wrote in a poem called Seeking Noble Truths or Just Passing Through that ‘longing is loss’, and it is, if one is attached or clings to the object of desire, or an outcome being exactly as is envisaged. Not being attached means less disappointment, less suffering, if as often happens, life does its thing and the outcome is not what we hoped it would be.

But here’s the thing: the bonds of my attachments in this area are loosening a little, bit by bit. And the paradox isn’t lost on me either: As I ‘settle’ into our (supposedly) longer term hermitage, I will, I hope, come closer to a point of stillness, of equanimity, and of silence. I will inch even closer to that state where attachments will all just fall away.

Hermit caves take many and varied forms

Now, in no particular order of priority or preference, I’ll try to convey in words some of the reasons we’re opting to continue our pilgrimage in a more long-term hermitage.

To be honest, as hard as I try to be present, to just live here and now, I just like the vast majority of my fellow human beings, find it extremely difficult to not be pulled ahead to the future (or dragged back to the past for that matter).

No sooner have we moved into a new hermitage, then we feel we have to start shopping around for the next one. Of course, one can’t ignore the practicalities, but for me it goes way beyond being a sensible planner.

And to be perfectly frank (I wonder who this ‘frank’ is anyway?) we’ve tired of it. The looking, the thinking, the talking and emailing to prospective places. It’s actually quite boring, to be stuck on that kind of merry-go-round .

It’s also extremely distracting. It gets in the way of our efforts to calm and quieten our minds for extended and deeper meditation and contemplation. Not to mention the ongoing (seems endless sometimes) discussions of the pros and cons of decisions to be made, as well as the frustrating second guessing I’m famous for.

Portrait of a Hermitage

We all know from experience that there is never going to be any absolute certainty in anything we arrange in our lives. Of course I know very well that even a signed, sealed and delivered legally binding contract or lease, means very little if the parties involved put their minds to it or change plans somewhere along the way.

All things in the material world are relative, and always subject to change; there’s nothing we can do to bend that natural law. Given such a context we still feel okay about entering with a right-hearted intention, this agreement for a year (at least) in the new hermitage.

As the residents of the hermitage are prone to say really quite often: ‘Your will, not mine, be done’.

Then, when life does its thing, I’ll be more able to roll with it. Why? Because I will (hopefully) have better learned that it’s not my will that’s to be done, but the Divine Will, the natural law and order of the Universe.

So, If it be your will…

Japa in the Dunes

Posted on by
Reply

Japa, or the chanting of the names of God or the Divine, is a central spiritual practice for me. In fact, as time goes by, it becomes even more important for me as I try to spend more time chanting than not!

With Japa in mind I climbed yesterday to the crest of the sand dune on which our current hermitage is situated, to spend a while with the sea and the dunefield flowers, the birds, and as I planned to be doing some chanting, also with those unseen aspects of the Divine that I would be addressing with my words.

As seems to be happening quite often these days when I immerse myself in the beauty that is to be found all around me, all that is to be seen and experienced ‘up there’ as it’s come to be called, a poem wrote itself about yesterday’s particular excursion and experience.

I share it with you now in the hope you will enjoy reading it; thank you for reading it!

SAND DUNE KIRTAN

Perched upon the crest of a sand dune,
I chant the names of the Lord
Hare Krishna Hare Krishna
Hare Rama Hare Rama

I am still; the Lord’s names vibrate in my mind.
But Varuna’s energy washes saltwater back and forth
in the middle distance.
Sea waves manifest from depths unknown.
Sea waves dissolve on the shore
in the middle distance.

Now, in the near distance,
near to me where I rest and chant on sacred ground,
flowers with yellow heads, purple heads, wave in the wind
as if ecstatically dancing to a holy Kirtan
gifted them by the wind.

These myriad jewels in the dunefield join me in my japa.
Or is it that I merge with their sacred dances?

It’s neither, and yet it’s both:
The beautiful blooms are me,
and I am them.
We are the One,
Chanting and dancing
the names of the One.

Why do I Pray?

Posted on by
2

‘Why do you pray?’ I ask myself. It’s not a rhetorical question: I really do want to know; it’s one of those big ‘Who am I?’ kind of questions.

‘I pray because I pray,’ I hear myself answer, sounding as if I am indeed responding to a rhetorical question.

‘So’, one might think (as I well might and sometimes do) ‘you pray without any ulterior motive at all? You don’t pray to get things? You don’t pray for healing for others or yourself? You don’t pray for peace and happiness for the world or yourself? None of these things?’

These are good, valid questions. And the answer is of course I do; of course I pray for healing for others and myself; I do pray for communal and personal peace. And happiness? Well who doesn’t pray in one way or another for happiness?

I do, however draw the line at praying for material things like money and physical objects to possess, that sort of thing. I believe  I don’t pray for ‘things’. I think so anyway.

So, what do I mean when I say ‘I pray because I pray’? Well, it’s not so much that it isn’t true, its just that at this moment that praying for praying’s sake isn’t the whole of life activity that I would like it to be. I would say it is a core aspiration that I am working towards.

You see, I want to pray, and to make my whole life a prayer. A prayer of praise and devotion; a prayer of gratitude and loving; and a prayer of service to all living beings.

If that’s the aspiration, then how come I’m still praying for all that other stuff of the world? Healing, peace, happiness, and the rest? How does that work one might ask (as I might and sometimes do ask myself).

Here’s what I’ve figured out so far: I have a strong sense that any prayers or prayerful activities I might make, are like vibrations, or ripples that interact with the vibrations and ripples emanating from countless, infinite even, other beings and from the fabric of the Universe itself.

In other words, not only the ‘created’ Universe, but the consciousness that is the origin and cause of the Universe, which is in reality life and love itself. Prayet is a way, I think, to make manifest an already existent link or union with what the hermits call the ‘Invisible Community’.

For example, if I’m chanting my mantra at any time day or night, I know that there are at least tens of thousands, if not millions of other beings all over the Universe doing exactly the same thing.

What I’m trying to say here is that, until I reach that pure state of making my prayer solely for prayer’s sake, for praise, devotion, gratitude, then it’s okay that I still pray for things that speak of a clinging still to the world (within my own boundaries of course!).

After all, all those creatures in who knows how many worlds and realms, all praying at the same time? There are some very powerful vibrations we’re talking about here.

I’ve been studying and thinking abut Bhakti  – the absolute pure love for and devotion to God – for a while now. And, for me, God is all those other living beings and the Universe itself (or better to say, all that exists, which I might add includes me!). So, in that sense praying for healing, for peace, for happiness, well, it’s good for us all.