Category Archives: notes from the Hermit’s cave

Realisation of Reality; It started With a Joke

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‘I like looking at you,’ says the hermit.

‘You must be sick in the head,’ replies, as quick as  you like, his partner hermit of 40 odd years. (Obviously an old and oft shared joke).

‘Of course I’m sick in the head,’ bursts out of the hermit in response. ‘It’s like saying the sun comes up every morning. It’s a given, a simple fact of life.’

Problem is, it’s not true is it? the sun I mean; it doessn’t come up does it? Doesn’t go down either for that matter. I mean it looks like it rises up every morning, and it looks  like it goes down every night. But it doesn’t. In reality it’s us here on planet Earth who are doing the turning.

At ‘sunrise’, our home planet in its continual revolving has us looking at a stationary star (our Sun, Sol, Surya) that is, rather than going up, just sits there as we revolve downwards leaving it behind, Same story at night with the sunset, just the other way round.

Our experience when looking at this scene is that the sun is going down behind the hills. But in reality it’s the hills and river and the viewer going up as Earth rovolves. Hard to get one’s head around.

To explain what we see, what we experience – or rather what our ancestors saw and sought to explain – the simplest, most obvious thing to do is tell it like we see it. Sounds obvious enough, but as we’ve just seen, the story we inherited and which was only recently (in historical terms that is) shown to be incorrect, of the rising and the setting of the sun was based on an illusion,

As to the hermit and his story – the long-held believed to be true story – well, if we’ve been able to establish that stories we tell ourselves are often based on illusions, then perhaps the hermit can look for another story concerning the state of his head health, that is based a little more on facts, not so much on illusion.

Or to put it in other words: It’s quite possible that if the truth of the matter is that the sun never goes up and never  goes down, then just maybe the hermit is not actually sick in the head.

Except perhaps when it comes to old jokes shared between beloved partner hermits.

Don’t Stick Your Feet Out

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Just now (as in earlier today) I had some perfectly natural, normal, and expected thoughts about my prayer life. If I’m to be honest though, and perhaps a tad overly tough on myself, the thoughts I had felt slightly ridiculous given my professed commitment to praying constantly, and my supposed understanding of the meaning and function of prayer.  In other words, there I was again: putting some kind of unrealistic expectations on myself – again!

Anyway, enough of that. To sum up those thoughts: I was thinking they – my prayers – aren’t working. Nothing is happening. And I was asking myself questions: What’s been achieved? What’s coming from all the effort? Where are the results?

And then, exactly at the moment I was writing down those thoughts and questions, I lifted my eyes from my notebook to see my partner-hermit approaching.

‘It’s my blessing at the moment,’ she said walking by my chair.

Why did she say that?

Because, right there before my eyes was evidence that none of my ridiculous thoughts and questions on my prayer life, had any meaning whatsoever. There was the answer, walking past me.

As I said, right there before my eyes.

Sounds and Vibrations

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Today’s post opens with what I think is called an oxymoron (funny word that)

No need to repeat here that I am a hermit; there you go, I repeated it, but it’s true nonetheless: I am a hermit. The oxymoron bit comes in when I make another obvious statement to the effect of, as a hermit I very much prefer to spend the vast majority of my time right here where I am right now:  in our hermitage.

This has become even more the case since our community decided to ‘settle down’ for a while in the one spot.

Obviously, just like everyone else, we have shopping and other chores that need to be done. Then there’s the occasional visit to the Doctor, and even the dreaded dentist, that will call me away from my safe-haven.

And that’s even before I mention walking for fresh air, exercise, and simple enjoyment. Or pursuing my Contemplative Photography practise. Both activities take me out and about, but usually not too far or for too long, from the Hermitage.

In any case, both these welcome (and absolutely necessary) pastimes have me mostly on my own, being quiet with heart, mind, and eyes open, or simply contemplating ‘stuff’.

No, it’s nore the occasions when I’m having to interact with people, or when there are crowds. Some might call me over-sensitive, but that label would only apply on my outgoing and gregarious days.

While that was intended as a little ironic humour, I must insist (internal editor speaking here) that I add that oftentimes said outgoingness and gregarious demeanor is an act, a cover for anxiety, and usually ends up making me feel worse anyway.

Although I guess you could also say that I’m allergic to the world and its ways, there are the occasional times when I want to, not so much ‘be around people’, as feeling the need to be somewhere where some life is going on around me. Not hectic life, as I’ve said, more like people going quietly about their business, doggies walking and playing with their humans, maybe people sitting chatting to friends. I guess you know the kind of thing.

This Mystic Tree stands for all the Tree People

The hermit gods blessed us in placing us in a hermitage which we love more and more, literally five minutes walk to a low-key, friendly indoor/outdoor café overlooking the village green with it’s big tree in the middle, and its nice lawns where the above-mentioned not so hectic life with it’s chatting, sitting, and relaxing people, and its doggies leading their humans in games and walks goes on. The coffee is okay too.

Except. People can be friendly, which in itself ,of course, is a lovely lovely thing, but as I’ve been telling you, I’m not really very good with people in those kinds of situations. Keep a low profile, is my ongoing advice to me.

The poem I share today was composed as I sat in the sun on a recent visit to that coffee shop. This visit prompted me to try to describe something – in poetic form and in ‘real time’ – of what I’ve been sharing with you here. No, what it actually describes is my strategy on that occasion for keeping said low profile.

This poem also holds a timely reminder that arrived with, what I can only think of as divinely inspired timing.

SOUNDS AND VIBRATIONS

My eyes are cast down – not downcast.
The brim of my hat pulled low.
As good, I hope,
as a Do Not Disturb sign.


For a hermit, out of his cell,
the cell must be reconstructed.
He is his cell.
Eyes focused on these words revealed;
hat brim, the walls.

I never forget, but just in case!


A chime resounds, but it does not disturb,
for I know for what it tolls:
Chant Hare Krishna, it calls to me.
So, these words must conclude;
words of praise now commence.

Hare Krishna. 

Cause and Effect: A Poetic Sharing

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Greetings my friends, and welcome

Another poetic sharing today. My resolve, my prayer, to write more devotional poetry does indeed seem to be bearing fruit, and I am deeply thankful.

With gratitude and with humility I make this offering to You.

Love and Peace

CAUSE AND EFFECT

Every moment is a cause in which lies a potential effect

Spiritual growth. This is the effect.

Yet, as we grow, our very growth becomes a cause –

   potentially –

as does a winged seed traveling on the wind –

the breath of God – carry with it the potential tree

On your soul, on the souls of other beings, on the soul of the

   world,

the cause, your one moment of growth, may have its effect.

Cause and effect; one and the same.

Surrender: The Key to the Hermitage

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The Hermitage

Surrender is a key issue for our community of Hermits. Surrender in the sense of, to put it really simply, how to just go with the flow; how to recognise that the universe moves as it does, and how might we fully realise that while we do what we can, playing our part, in the final analysis, life unfolds as it does.

Like I guess, most people we often have trouble accepting the so-called realities of life like bodily changes, world events that sadden, shock or outrage us. You know what I’m talking about. We just like stuff to work out just as we would prefer, and when it doesn’t? Well that’s when we suffer; we get angry, frustrated or sad or otherwise affected emotionally and even physically. Again you know what I mean.

Courtesy of our resident artist

‘The will of God’ or ‘the will of the Universe’ are common recommendations for surrendering to. But of course ‘God’ or the ‘Universe’ have no will of their own; it simply is what it is, and follows the laws of nature, the natural order of life the Universe and everything as has been famously said time and again.

So, a small poetic offering on just that theme of surrender. This time asking: surrender to whom or to what? The answer I come up with is perhaps not as far out as it might first appear when you read it. Maybe we’ll do a post looking more deeply at that one.

Anyway, please accept my small offering.

WE SHALL SURRENDER UNTO WHOM?

To whom, or to what shall we surrender?
We are hermits; we dwell in a hermitage.
Here are our cells, our Paradise.
A walled enclosure unto which we may surrender.

Let’s Talk

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I feel like talking more … Sorry. Start again. It’s not what it seems and, well rather than get into it now, just read on a bit and all shall become clear.

Anyway, there’s an old joke that goes like this: One friend says to another friend: ‘How come you’re always talking to yourself?’ To which the second friend replies: ‘Well, you see, I always like to talk to the most intelligent person in the room, so I look around and usually I find that it’s me. So I end up talking to myself’.

Okay, maybe not so funny. Could be taken as bad manners or rude come to think of it. But that’s how jokes often are isn’t it?

Anyway, and here we get to the little bit of clarity I promised, you’re probably going to remind me that I have often said I would like to talk less, and be quiet more often.

That’s still true, but this is different. You see, lately I’ve been feeling the need to talk more about various aspects of my ‘inner life’. You know the sort of thing: confusions and worries; niggling issues bugging me; that kind of stuff.

And my community hear and experience quite enough of my inner life, with its contradictions, mood swings, and the rest; I have no intention of being more of a burdon than I probably already am.

So, I look around and ask who’s left? Me! Myself! I! Not exactly the most intelligent person in the room, so there the joke breaks down, but it does indeed look like I might end up talking to myself after all.

Well, it’s kind of a yes and no sort of thing. ‘Myself’ is the individual with this mind and body, making these words appear on the screen. It’s the ego self, the me that’s the being who walks, talks, breathes, and … Well you know what else.

But, and this is the brilliant bit, if I separate the words to read My Self, will it’s a whole other story. For a start, Self is not ‘mine’. Self is that part of me that is consciousness; and it’s not a different entity than ‘your’ consciousness, or anyone or anything else’s.

So, if I start talking to this Self that’s actually anyone and everyone, and not just me, who is it that I am in fact talking to?

Sounds to me like I’d be talking to you, and you, and everyone else; to the trees, the birds; everybody!

And yes, that’s exactly right. For me, there is only Self – consciousness – that is indeed anyone, anything, everyone, and everything in the Universe, both seen and unseen.

In other words, I’d be talking to God; the Divine; the Absolute Reality; the Thou Art That described by at least one of the world’s great spiritual traditions.

Which is to say, I want – need – to spend some more time talking to, and in conversation with, God.

Phew. I’m glad I figured that out.

You might remember the prayer I wrote a while ago to the Divine Mother? Seems like a good place to share it with you again.

Love and Peace from Paul the Hermit

A Plea for Forgiveness

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It was way back in the earlier days of this blog, sometime in 2022, that I wrote a post about our community’s liking for snacking on plain toast by choice. It’s our more or less regular late evening, before bed, bite to eat. Perhaps accompanied by black tea, as I described in that post.

As I also point out in that post, I do actually enjoy plain toast. It’s not that I no longer like jam or other yummy spreads; I like them too well truth be told, but sometimes, well, plain is good.

As the day winds down to become night, and we settle to our evening snack, I will sometimes make a joke about simple food, or monks with simple tastes, whatever. Anyway, a few nights ago I made a remark, a joke, that has had a profound impact on me.

‘I’ll just say a prayer for my two slices of dry toast.’

Of course I am just like so many other religious or spiritually inclined people, and say a prayer before I receive any and all food or drink. It’s a long time habit, and a blessing I like to perform. Just a thank you is all it is really.

This comment, this joke, as soon as it was out of my mouth, I realised, of course I will. Don’t I always?

It’s true that our community lives simply, as simply as we can. And that includes what we eat and drink. It’s also true that this is not some sort of ethical stance consciously taken; nor is it a kind of overlaid act of solidarity with those who have no choices due to poverty or other circumstances.

It’s purely and simple because we like simple. It really does suit our natures and temperaments and for us it is the obvious way to live.

It is no renunciation: we welcome simple. This obviously is not to say that we are unaware that our very natures and temperaments naturally steer us away from choices that are unethical or are out of sync with compassion (call it solidarity) for other beings.

The reason I’m ranting on about this off-hand comment thrown out as a so-called joke is, well just that: It was off-hand, and my misguided intention in making this ‘joke’ was insensitive and careless; it was lacking compassion for all the other living beings sharing life and consciousness with me.

And for that flippancy and carelessness, I ask forgiveness from the invisible community that is in fact all of us struggling to live in a material world.

My sense is that in saying ‘all of us’ I might instead say, all of us who are in truth One; We who are that one Self that seeks forgiveness.

A Short Rant About (and Addressed To) Mind

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Lately I’ve been dwelling on thoughts and other mind stuff. A lot, and in both senses: mind stuff won’t leave me alone; and the nature of that mind stuff has had me thinking about it all, as well.

Of course, it’s the way mind works – especially as one makes the effort to calm the mind, still the thoughts and move beyond them to that little place of stillness and silence. It seems the more one practises, the more mind works hard on keeping one thinking, distracted, absorbed in memories and fantasies; anything but still and quiet.

And, in recent times, I’ve come to understand how and why the Desert Fathers and the Desert Mothers spoke of these mind activities as ‘demons’ who came to tempt, torment, distract and disturb.

The memories, thoughts, fantasies, fears plaguing me lately have been like that – extreme, upsetting, disturbing. All making me long for the good old days of simple day to day ‘distractions’.

So, here’s a weird thing: Yesterday, when once again sitting for meditation, I realised that yes indeed, those good old days had returned. Thoughts and memories had taken on a lighter tone – even running a Star Trek episode in my mind. Mind you, there are some that might say that this is very deep meditation material.

Still all the ‘what ifs’, the ‘should haves’, and the rest, but not so heavy, not so frightening or depressing. I was more or less welcoming the light relief.

Then it occured to me with a shock: I had fallen for a sneaky mind trick. Welcoming the relief as I just said, I wasn’t being so firm in my efforts to still these kindler and gentler, not so threatening thoughts as I had when the ‘demons’ had come calling.

So, mind with its wiley ways figured I was an easier target for distraction. No need now for extreme measures.

Well, dear mind of mine, I have woken up to your sneaky little strategy. I’d like to have you as my friend – as you most certainly are a great deal of the time – but if you want to play the old demon game, then I am going to have to try just that much harder to ignore you.

Actually, no. No trying. Despite your determined efforts dear mind, and your ever-changing strategies to keep me off balance, I will simply be here. Being still. Not disturbed.

Mostly.

I Want to Sing Praises: A Poetic Offering

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                                 I WANT TO SING PRAISES

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

Sun, Water, Sky, and Me

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Varuna and Surya. the Hindu deities of sky and all Earth’s waters (Varuna), and our sun (Surya). These names resonate for me. I like how such great natural phenomena fundamental to our existence on this planet, can be ‘personalised’ in this way.

I find that having acquired symbolic or representational names for sky, water, and sun, has allowed me to somehow relate to the inherent giving and preserving of the energies that power all life that water, sky, and sun provide in a prayerful, thankful way. Kind of makes it personal.

Let me put aside for a moment the obvious scientific reality that tells us we can’t live long without water, can’t live at all without the gases in our atmosphere, and if the sun goes dark for whatever length of time it is, then all life ceases to exist.

How many times have I stood in awe watching a sunset?

Or watched as big waves rolled in with a surfer hoping for a ride?

How many times have I welcomed the sound of rain on a roof and the sight of it nourishing trees or other life

And how many times have I sat on or walked along a riverbank feeling uplifted and a little more grounded?

Many, many times is the short answer. Varuna and Surya are constant presences in our lives. And I am grateful for the life-giving and life-sustaining natures of their existence.

Sharing with you today, a little poetic expression of one of those times when sky, water, and sun, gave me just a little more than those fundamental material energies.

ONCE AGAIN VARUNA AND SURYA

Once again, Varuna and Surya
are coming to make rescue.
They arrive on – as in fact they are – the currents and eddies
of the river of life.
In this way, the natural order remains in motion.

Shared with love

from Paul the hermit

Flow river go, past the shady tree.
Flow river flow, flow to the sea.
Flow river flow, flow to the sea. 

Thanks to Roger McGuinn for one of the classic flowing on a river songs.