Spotted on a Sand dune: A Poetic Sharing

With the current hermitage located not so much on the side of the road, as right on the side of a large sand dune system, you might imagine that I am at and on the beach every day.

While almost every day, I walk the track that follows the crest of the dunes in this particular area, I’ve only actually gone down to the beach itself a handful of times.

So, yesterday as start to my resolve to make amends for this omission, I climbed the dune, ignored the crest track leading left and right, and continued straight on and down the other side of the dune, and onto the beach itself. My intent was to spend an hour or so walking along the tide line.

And so it was.

Judging by such rare experience of the beach itself, I might easily say I am no ‘beachcomber’; no discoverer of coastal treasures, little natural beauties from the sea, or even the occasional oddity one might expect washed up. Until yesterday that is.

Not that I went to ‘comb’ the beach: rather I was there trying to put myself on the receiving end so to speak, to be a receptacle for what I might be blessed with (not to forget the need for exercise and movement).

And so it was.

This sense of grace and blessings, I hope I’ve conveyed in the small poetic effort (as well as its companion photo) that I now share with you.

SPOTTED ON THE SAND DUNE

Strolling (briskly mind you) along the sands,
There I was – deep in the liminal zone.
Ankle-deep – sometimes – seawater cooling my feet.
One way to receive Varuna’s blessings.

Back on dry sands (still in the liminal zone) I pause
to examine a spiral shell – an elegant and delicate sea creature.
It lives. Reverently, I move it to deeper water.

As I rise from my small task of union, of reunion,
I glance – still within the liminal zone – upwards.
There, near the crest of the sand dune sits a chair.
An armchair I spotted right there on the sand dune.

There it was, facing me – and the sea – in the middle of nowhere.
Though this is clearly somewhere for somebody.
The perfect perch for taking in
Pacific views.

Empty chair, lonely sight
overlooking the liminal zone.

Bright Lights on the Dunefields

Namaste and Welcome friends.

A poem for your reading pleasure. Written on site today in response to an experience while out walking on the dunes next to the hermitage.

I’m including a photo I made a few weeks ago of the exact place where the poem was written,

And many loving thanks to my partner hermit for the sketch made in the same area today (synchronistically it was made unknown to me and vica versa)

Please enjoy.

Love from Paul the Hermit

BRIGHT LIGHTS IN THE DUNEFIELDS


Today. On the Ocean Track.
Daily hiking across the top of the dunefields.
Not so sure-footed,
I trudge heavy-footed.

As I pass by, there are bright lights in the dunefields.
I pause in my passing as my eyes are drawn
(or is it my heart?)
to the bright lights in the dunefields.

I feast my senses upon
the bright lights in the dunefields.
They bless me, these bright lights.
They sing to me; they speak to me.

In my silence, I hear them.
But I hear not voices.
I see them.
But I see not colours, shapes or forms.

What I see, I see.
I see me, I see you.
They see me,
the bright lights in the dunefields.

They see you; can you see them?
These bright lights in the dunefields.

We are all bright lights in the dunefields.

Details in the Dunefields

On a Pilgrim’s Way

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s a walk to take,

a pilgrimage to make.

Sometime soon.

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

Peace!

New Series Coming Soon: An Introduction

Lord Krishna

Namaste and greetings friends

Not long ago I began studying an Indian scripture called The Uddhava Gita. It’s quite a lovely book actually: it’s poetic, actually it is a poem, or song, and beautifully written. The title means The song of Uddhava and is an account of a conversation between Krishna wearing his God of the Universe hat, and his cousin Uddhava.

The story takes place in their home town of Dwarka in the state of Gujarat (Krishna was also a regular family man with a huge extended family) which is about to explode in a destructive civil war. Soon Krishna is leaving to return to his heavenly abode, and at the opening of our story, he advises Uddhava that he too should leave town ASAP.

I should point out at this juncture that I do not see this Gita as a historical document. It’s a story created as a backdrop against which to place a long conversation in which Krishna, or God, passes some spiritual teaching to Uddhava.

Dwarkadheesh Temple Dwarka India
By Scalebelow – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5739970

Although the location of the story is a real place and exists today, we don’t learn anything beyond that this is the setting for this little chat.

The purpose was to present these teachings in an entertaining and accessible format. Like so many scriptures around the world, this one is a song, making it easier to learn and pass from one person to another over time in a society that was not yet universally literate.

So, why am I writing about this text? Well, in one section Uddhava is asking his cuz all sorts of questions, that have obviously been on his mind for a while. He knows Krishna is leaving he planet soon and he thinks that this might be his last chance to get some answers.

He asks questions like: What are reality and truth? And, What is a person’s strength. Then there are queries like: Who is a friend? What is home? Many are related to spiritual matters and practice, and all are concerning qualities and attributes a person should possess to live a good life, a honest life. A Dharmic life.

Actually, if I were to condense all of Uddhava’s questions into one big question, it would probably go something like this:

How can I change my lifestyle so I might live a righteous life, a good and honest life in which I can learn the truth and live my whole life according to that truth?

Now, here’s the thing: Uddhava asks a total of 36 questions, some singularly, some are multiple questions containing two or three queries. Krishna then proceeds to answer the questions, all of them in fairly quick succession.

I would like to share a few of those answers with you. I don’t get the sense that the questions are asked or answered in any particular order or pattern, so perhaps those I share will be an idiosyncratic selection, or it may be entirely random. Not that there is such a thing of course, so I guess you will just have to wait and discover for yourself the chosen questions.

Don’t worry! I have no intention of burdening you with the complete set of 36. In addition to saving you that fate, some of the questions and or answers didn’t resonate; others didn’t feel overly relevant to this blog.

I’d like to devote an individual post to each of the questions, bearing in mind some of them are multiples. I learned about all 36 questions and their answers in an hour long class. Needless to say that experience was more than slightly mind-blowing. One or two (or maybe three) at a time will be just fine for all concerned I think.

So, next post, I look forward to sharing with you the first of Uddhava questions along with Krishna’s answer. It will in fact be literally the first one asked; I thought discussing it at the start would sort of set the scene and the tone for us.
After that one there will be further posts. Again don’t worry, I’m planning a fairy short and occasional only series.

A Prayer to the Divine Mother

Growing up Catholic, attending Catholic schools from age six to fifteen, going to Confession most weeks, going to mass once a week, oftentimes more, I was deeply immersed in a particular cultural environment of Catholicism. Over time I was (we all were) inculcated with, among other things, a deep love and a reverence for Mary, the mother of Jesus.

I say deep love. No, I’m not being quite precise enough to let it slide. Sure we were taught to love her, but in a kind of limited way. We should love her because she is the mother of Jesus. Not that being the mother of Jesus was what you would label a ‘limited’ role of course. But other than that we were taught to view Mary as an intercessor for us, a conduit if you like between us and our wants, and her son Jesus. So love yes, but a kind of conditional love.

Mind you I was always very fond of Our Lady as we called her. Through a serious dedication (for a time) to The Rosary, and the numerous Hail Marys imposed as penances in Confession, I grew close to her.

And, even as I moved on and out of that Catholic sub-culture and began to explore other ideas and ways of being,  I still maintained that fairly deep reverence for Mary, a reverence that has pretty much stayed with me all my life. I only realised today that it wasn’t until quite recently that I stopped calling her Our Lady.

But, in truth, my concept of her evolved beyond her being the mother of Jesus. Indeed, I came to a point when I realised it wasn’t at all relevant if Mary herself was an actual historical figure or not (this was much much later though).

For me Mary had come to represent or symbolise the female aspect of the Divine. Still, in the early days, very dualistic of course, but a huge step from the ‘second place’ she occupied in the earlier days when we weren’t even allowed to worship her as Divine. Worship was reserved for God – who was emphatically and indisputably male, sitting in heaven, entry to which was held tightly in the hands of more males in a male controlled and dominated institution. Which, it does have to be said merely reflected the world it operated in.

Anyway, let’s jump ahead half a life time of, (shall we say for our purposes here?) living, to put ourselves into the present day. Well, recent times anyway.

To put a very long story into one sentence (again for our purposes here today) I will simply say that I moved away from Christianity and especially the denomination of my childhood. Okay, we need another sentence: In more recent times, through a whole lot of circuitous meanderings, I have come to realise that there is only God.

That is to say, all there is is God, only God, nothing else. ‘Not one God, only God.’ as my teacher’s teacher used to say.

Earth Mother (Courtesy of Amber Avalona, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons)

Nowadays I still love and revere Mary. As symbol. A symbol of the creative energies responsible for bringing the Universe into existence, and which is engaged in the ongoingness of its maintainance through the laws of nature. She is one manifestation among so many of this divine creativity. In a very real sense for me, she is the Divine Mother.

So, a prayer written by me to and for the Great Mother who manifests in whatever form – or no form – in which any of us may choose to worship and love her.

To Speak or Not to Speak & What Not to Speak About When You Do Speak

Have I mentioned lately that I talk far too much? No? Well then, it’s way past time to once again confess; it’s  time that I finally get it out into the open: the thing is you see, umm, I talk too much. There I’ve said it.

But wait, there is no need for concern: I have a prayer (stuck in my Bhagavad Gita, where else?) that I pray at least a couple of times a day. Well, rather than being a prayer, it’s a kind of affirmation or instruction to myself. Okay, it’s a prayer.


It’s a nice injunction, I think. I don’t recall where I borrowed it from, but I’m grateful that I came across it. It’s important to me; a vital instruction that I feel assists me in my aspiration to be a bit more thoughtful, and a bit less vocal.

Does it work?  Well with the risk of repeating myself, I will say yes. Maybe I’m a bit more thoughtful and perhaps a bit  less vocal. But, on the other hand, I wouldn’t say I was anywhere close to the ‘spending no time’ level.

Now that I’m thinking about it, illusion, fear, and wrong thinking are common themes in many people’s lives, and we might even say that they dominate our culture whether it’s the media, celebrity gossip, or any of the rest of the illusory and speculative talk that goes on all around us.

Tunnel to the Light

Anyway, fear is the biggie isn’t it? Fear of not having enough; fear of not being good enough; fear of what might happen or what might not. This list is endless. Fear of illness or ageing; fear of losing friends or fear of not having any! Fear of ‘missing out on the good life’ we imagine everyone else is living.

Then there is what’s called, the fear of the other, most often promoted and replicated by the mass media through their creation of illusions, fake news, exaggerated  or one-sided information (I hesitate to use the terms ‘facts and figures’ but you know what I mean). And then they sell us on ideas that we need to fear some other person, people, thing, time, impending catastrophe that never comes.

I don’t need to go on here: as I said, the list is endless. All that’s left to say about these fears and the illusions we are force-fed and made to believe are real, is that it all boils down to costing us a great deal of time spent and usually wasted, in wrong thinking of one kind or another.

It seems to me the media (news and social), advertising, and governments of all persuasions, are really quite happy for us all to be ‘getting the wrong end of the stick’. I think that’s the expression. Our societies are drowning in, for want of a better word, propaganda.

Buy this, do that, don’t do the other thing. Be afraid of (insert the latest scapegoat, political opponent, boogy man, the Apocalypse. Again it’s an endless list).

Then there are the fears we invent for ourselves, the illusions about ourselves that in our wrong thinking we come to believe are all real and true. One thing you can say about wrong thinking is that it makes for more and more wrong thinking. More illusions about who we are, what we do (or can’t do), what we are like, who likes (or doesn’t like) us. Here I once again risk repeating myself, but yes, it’s a long long list.

So, what can we do? Well, we could use a little reminder like the one we’re talking about here. It’s possible that it can help us correct a little of the wrong thinking that leads to fears and illusions.

Then there is what we might call discernment. Not so much deciding between one thing and another; more like coming to know what is real or illusion, a genuine, rational fear that I need to act on, or some inherited, manipulated, received  or otherwise irrational, baseless, or invented ‘fear’.

We won’t get rid of wrong thinking by trying to push it away. It’s about replacing the wrong thinking with some right thinking. We can try to recognise that wrong stuff as it comes up. We can make an effort to stop allowing ourselves to get away with our own misunderstandings, our own wild imaginations, wishful thinking, and confusions. As my teacher said just the other day, use your mind to control your mind.

One word we haven’t discussed from my little injunction is discussing. We discuss things when we talk or communicate  with others or when we talk to ourselves. Here we are at another issue for discernment: what shall we talk about?

Actually I was about to write that one excellent strategy for not spending time discussing illusions, fears, and wrong thinking is to simply stop talking altogether. That’s all there is to it: Don’t talk!

But obviously that’s a ridiculous notion right? Stop talking? Perhaps for a set time? Or perhaps as a kind of ‘time-out’ strategy? But as a principle for a whole life, it’s not going to appeal to the majority of us. Actually, that feels to me like a bit of wrong thinking creeping in: a life of no, or at least limited talking is very appealing to me. Just difficult.

Still that does seem to be what my treasured injunction suggests I do. Mind you, it’s very specific isn’t it? Spend no time, it says. Discussing what? Illusions, fear, and wrong thinking.

So, how do we manage to follow this suggestion ‘to the letter’ as they say?

Here’s another little prayer I say everyday. This one is from Thomas Merton.


Keep silent ‘except in as far as God wills it’. For God I could say the good of all concerned; Truth; my heart; my goodwill; my love. It’s all God; it’s all the Divine.

I guess it gets back to something I said earlier about thinking before I speak. To this I would now add, feel before I speak: What’s right? What’s wrong? Does this help? Will this hurt someone else for myself.

About right and wrong: In the religious  tradition I was ‘raised in’ it was deemed that at the age of seven or eight a child is suddenly, without any preparation, able to discern right from wrong. Which means they are now responsible for the consequences of their thoughts, words, deeds. In other words, they are now capable of sinning and suffering  the consequences.

I can’t (obviously) speak for you or anyone else, but it’s been a very very long time since I was seven or eight, and I still find it tricky sometimes working out right from wrong. Of course while I know I am now responsible for my thoughts, words and deeds, I also know that we are all flawed; nobody’s perfect, so we’re going to make mistakes. 

So, all I can do – all any of us can do – is appeal to the innermost Self and use my intellect and my heart to try to discern as best I can, what is right and what is wrong.

Only in the innermost places where the real Self dwells can we know reality from illusion; it is only in our ‘heart of hearts’ as they say, combined with our rational thinking mind, what fears are real and what fear is illusion. And it is only then that heart and intellect can determine when our thinking is headed down the wrong (or the right) track.

It’s only then that we will know what and what not to spend our time discussing, either with others or internally within ourselves.  This all sounds like a long, convoluted, tricky process (told you I talk (write) too much!), but it needn’t be.

Like all things it takes practise, and once we begin to know that innermost Self, it will soon become a spontaneous way of living, when we begin to ‘just know’.

Your own inner divinity (which is the real you) wishes for you peace.

Om Shanti, Shanti, Shanti.

You Can’t Always Get What You Want

‘I wish I could write a blog post.’

So said I to my partner hermit yesterday. You see, for a few days I’d felt the coming on of a blog post: no topic, no clue as to ideas, and no hint of anything, only that it was on its way. Hence the exasperated outburst.

What’s wrong with wishing for something we want? Absolutely nothing. Sort of. Contrary to popular rumours, erroneous teachings, misunderstandings, mistranslations, or just a simple lack of information, Buddha’s Second Noble Truth does not say ‘The cause of suffering is wishes’ or we can say desires.

What he actually taught was that the cause of suffering is clinging. Clinging, being attached to a desire so strongly that failing to fulfil that desire causes us to suffer through annoyance, frustration, sadness and all those other things that impact on our mental or emotional wellbeing.

My teacher uses the word  compulsion. Compulsion to chase after what you want, compulsion to run away from what you don’t want.

Using me as an example: yesterday I wanted so badly to write, and was so frustrated that I couldn’t write just then, that I caused myself suffering. Because I couldn’t have what I wanted immediately, I made myself miserable.

Just as an aside (or perhaps not?), I realise that this little annoyance hardly means anything in the larger context of living and suffering that all of us experience simply by being alive.

But in a way, that’s my point. How many of the things we desperately want or that we desperately don’t want are the ‘little things’? Aren’t they so often the very things that, on a daily basis, cause us the most annoyance, frustration, anger, and even sorrow?

In any case, I had made myself annoyed with myself, frustrated too. However as soon as it was suggested that I needed to just down and type something – anything – if only to get the words flowing, I felt much better. I had the answer!

So, here I am, albeit a day late, and not typing as it happens, but scribbling in my notebook. Actually I don’t know why I don’t type it all up first thing, cutting out the middle step.  I mean, it really does flow better on the screen (via my fingers on the keyboard of course), and it’s also, as an added incentive, a whole lot easier to read than my scratchings.

I suppose I could say that not all old habits that have not quite died just yet, are necessarily ‘bad’ ideas. I happen to like my notebook.

Now, here’s the thing, the paradox if you like. I had felt a post coming on, and because I wished so badly for it to emerge and it wouldn’t, I suffered. And then, I sat to write something (anything as was suggested) and voila: the desperately, compulsively, longed for post obedeintly appears.

Cause and effect? I mean to say, which came first? Did I at some deeper subconscious level already have an idea to write a blog post about how clinging and compulsions and attachments to the things we want – and aversions and compulsions to get away from things we don’t want – cause us suffering?

Did that existing but deeply buried idea then manifest itself as a real world situation to give me the ‘material’ to write from?

Or, perhaps more simply, I got annoyed because I couldn’t write, so I made myself write (took a day to get to it though; remember me saying?), and well, what you see is what you get when one sits to write – words on a page.

Who can say? There are theories that propose effects can and do often precede causes. It’s a tough one to get my head around, and somehow I don’t think there’s any point in trying to.

We know instinctively that everything that exists in the Universe is constantly changing, evolving, devolving, mutating, never still. And we also know that we can affect what happens in our lives and in the world around us through our own actions. Some might disagree with me on that last one; it’s only my opinion.

The tricky bit is that oftentimes we forget that those changes as well as the lack of fulfilment or otherwise of our desires (wishes also), and even the results of our own actions aren’t always to our liking. Well, it’s not that we don’t know it in our minds and through personal experience, but when it comes down to it, we all usually as part of our normal conditioning, suffer when outcomes aren’t to our liking. It’s like we know it but we haven’t realised the truth of it yet.

Sounds like a trivial or flippant, even silly and pointless, thing to say, but it’s demanding to be said anyway: things (as in life and the rest) always work out how they work out.

But if you think about it, it’s true whether we like it or not. Actually, in a sense this is one of the very important, even pivotal points, of my ongoing studies, meditations, and contemplations. To realise fully that I, along with every other living thing, has a place within, no, not just a place within but is actually an indivisible part of, if I may be forgiven a cliché, the grand scheme of things. Not only that, but we in our essential true natures as Consciousness remain untouched and genuinely okay whatever transpires here in the material world.

I do what I do; you do what you do; and regardless of whether we like the outcomes or not, things work out as they do. Sorry to be repeating myself. Just seemed the right thing to say again.

And here’s another tricky bit: it’s not about resigning ourselves to ‘fate’ or ‘destiny; or whatever we might call not having control over our own lives.

Just by way of exploring that last point, and finishing this post, I would like to leave you with a quote. Yes, I know, we are all bombarded by quotes from famous (and not so famous) people, aphorisms of all sorts, and affirmations that claim they will improve our lives.

I truly believe this flood (mixing my metaphors here) of good words, written with good intentions, has numbed us to their actual value and usefulness to us in assisting us to live good lives.

So, here is one such, that I think puts it in a nutshell, in a very simple, straightforward way, an important Truth. It’s called the Serenity Prayer, and rereading it just now, I see clearly that serenity would indeed be the outcome if we are able to take this invocation to heart, and begin to live by it.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

Courage to change the things I can,

and the wisdom to know the difference

Peace and Love from Paul the Hermit

PS: This version is only one among many. In fact, the Wikipedia entry linked above is a fascinating (though apparently quite flawed) exploration of this prayer and its origins.

When Love is a Yoga and Lovers are Yogis

There was light at the end of the research tunnel

These last few days I’ve been researching and thinking about an idea for a blog post. But I’ve come to realise that I am grossly underqualified to write about the topic I had in mind. Let me put it another way: I am completely and utterly unqualified in any way whatsoever to go there. In fact, after all the research, I think I’m going to disqualify myself from ever going there in writing.

However, I’m a great believer in the idea that no quest for knowledge is ever a waste of time or effort; there is always something to be learned. During my research I came across a topic I believe I am qualified to discuss, as it forms an integral and vital part of my own personal spiritual practice.

Why I’ve decided to write this post, though, is because I made a discovery that lead to an insight that I know will lead to a great progress in that practice. It’s nothing new, not really, but it was one of those occasions we’ve all experienced of ‘I knew that, but now I really know it.’ For me, it was a realisation of something that till then had been a nice cosy theory and belief.

Bhakti Yoga is that practice. It is really a key foundation, a valuable component of my spiritual life.

Wikipedia opens its entry on Bhakti Yoga (see the link just above) with a description of the practice that mirrors what I think is the traditional understanding of Bhakti Yoga:

Bhakti Yoga (also called Bhakti Marga, literally the path of Bhakti) is a spiritual path or practice within Hinduism focused on loving devotion towards any personal deity.

In the same entry there is a description of the origins and meanings of the two words, Bhakti and Yoga:

The Sanskrit word Bhakti is derived from the root bhaj, which means “divide, share, partake, participate, to belong to”. The word also means ‘attachment, devotion to, fondness for, homage, faith or love, worship, piety to something as a spiritual, religious principle or means of salvation’.

The term Yoga literally means “union, yoke”, and in this context connotes a path or practice for ‘salvation, liberation’. yoga referred to here is the ‘joining together, union’ of one’s Atman (true self) with the concept of Supreme Brahman (true reality).

For some, dancing while chanting the names of their God, demonstrates their devotion and celebrates their union with each other and with God

In other words, those called to a religious or spiritual life, practise Bhakti Yoga whenever they pray or otherwise express devotion towards their personal conception of God, or the Divine. This particular definition seems to be saying that such a conception of the Divine, or God, is in the form of a personal deity who is a kind of representative of true reality, which the devotee is aspiring to join with.

Some Bhakta Yogis are full-time, full-on practitioners. People like contemplative nuns or monks, hermits who retire from the world into seclusion. Anyone basically whose entire life and activities are spent in devotion.

So, when I discovered all this, I became intrigued; I decided to go off on a tangent and explore the word Bhakti itself. Wikipedia has a separate entry for the word on its own:

Bhakti is a term common in Indian religions which means attachment, fondness for, devotion to, trust, homage, worship, piety, faith, or love. In Indian religions, it may refer to loving devotion for a personal God

is often a deeply emotional devotion based on a relationship between a devotee and the object of devotion.

In ancient texts the term simply means participation, devotion and love for any endeavor.

May refer to devotion to a personal god? While I thought this entry doesn’t contradict our first quote above, it does seem to broaden, and deepen, the meaning of Bhakti. Expand might be the better word.

In some traditions a simple life on the road is a way to commit full time to Bhakti or devotion.

It struck me that that object of devotion might be anything. Or even everything. You see? I told you it wasn’t a new idea. It’s just that it’s resonated deeply within me now. It appears that the object of Bhakti Yoga practice doesn’t necessarily have to be a ‘personal god’.

Many many people would say ‘I like animals’ or ‘I think we should save the world’. But, while that may imply a kind of love for or at least a fondness for, I think Bhakti is something more – actually several somethings more!

For example, some people have a particular attraction to and love for, the ocean, or it might be a river they view as, if not sacred in a religious sense, then as special to them in some deep, comforting, even therapeutic way. Others have similar relationships with and feelings for trees, or even a particular tree.

Animals as either individuals or as a species or group, can have the same appeal and call to other people. Then there are those who feel strongly in their hearts you could say, that Earth itself is a sacred object, or others have a knowing that the planet is a living entity and worthy of our devotion.

Bhakti begins with love and devotion, which is about caring for, affection towards, loyalty to, emotional engagement with the object of devotion. But even more than that, there is faith in that object of devotion; faith as in trust, confidence that the love is real, that the ‘relationship’ is sound and real.

Homage and worship too are key aspects of Bhakti. The deep inner feeling we have towards a thing, person, or other being, that is beyond what we normally call ‘love’. It’s about seeing and actually realizing ‘in our hearts’ our desire to be merged or united with that thing, person, or other being.

Actually, seeing that word other just now got me thinking. I had to go back and reread our definition of Yoga up there near the beginning. It says Yoga means ‘union, yoke’. It goes on to add: yoga refers to a ‘joining together, union’.

This passage seems to be suggesting that Yoga (in our case Bhakti Yoga) is both an already existing union, and a process of joining together to achieve union. One thing I would say here is that in my practice of Bhakti (and love as a general thing to strive for and be) it’s both.

Trees are special beings for many people from a whole variiety of cultures all over the world

But, in the end, it seems to me that the process or practice, the path of Bhakti, serves to awaken us, to assist us to acknowledge, recognise, and realise in that really knowing way, our pre-existent true nature.

That true essential nature can be said to be the reality of our oneness with all things, living and non-living. And their oneness with us too of course. In fact, by putting it that way, I’m saying there is only one, or oneness. What’s that expression? One without a second.

May you be a Bhakta Yogi. Or, perhaps you already are one?

Love and peace from Paul the Hermit

Life has manifested itself as the multitudinous forms that comprise the universe. It is the one Universal Life, Power or Shakti (the laws of the universe or natural laws) that controls, guides and actuates all movements and activities in all beings, creatures and things.

                — Swami Ramdas

Wish for Truth and Honour with your signature

Maybe fifteen or so years ago, I reconnected with a good friend, after losing touch for a while (we’ve lost touch again). This friend used to send his poetry to friends on his email list, and after reconnecting, I was reading through some of those old emails.

I began to notice, as I read, that along with his name, he signed each email with a really lovely sentence which at that time I’d not heard before:

Vishwa dharma ki jai

This is Sanskrit and obviously I had to look it up. Not only did it read so nicely in Sanskrit, the English translation, was just as striking: it translates to: ‘victory to universal truth and honour’. When I read this translation, I was moved. What a beautiful way to sign off an email, or (age warning here) or a letter on paper.

(And, just rechecking online now, I see that there are songs, magazines, and organizations, that carry this expression as their name or slogan. Do a search for Vishwa dharma ki jai)

what about this as a signature?

Now, I don’t have a problem with ‘yours sincerely’ or ‘kind regards’ and so on, as ways of signing off a written communication. Indeed, I think those salutations (is that the right word?) can be meaningful and can carry heartfelt and sincere wishes from one person to another.

However, as with a lot of things we do ‘automatically’ and as a matter of course, these expressions seem to have lost much, if not all their true meanings. In fact, how often do we get emails with no such signing off, and with merely the sender’s name at the bottom?

Actually, now I think about it, I remember some emails that don’t even carry the sender’s name as a way of signing off. Now, that seems on the surface to be a rude omission, but in reality it’s not rude nor is it really an omission: people and the way they communicate are changing; I guess some of these so-called ‘niceties’ are just naturally going to be lost.

So, I thought after reading the Sanskrit salutation, hey,  I would really like to use this beautiful expression as my ‘signature’ for emails. What better salutation for a truth seeker (that’s me) to sign off with? And I’ve been using it ever since.

It might be that a wish for the victory of universal truth and honour sounds a bit old fashioned, a bit formal even. Not at all: how up to date, how necessary even, in our fast-paced, materialistic, and sometimes lonely and corrupt world, is it to seek truth and to act with honour? Honour isn’t the fuddy-duddy, formal term you might think. Look it up: it’s about honesty, truth, right behaviour, integrity, all that good and right stuff.

So, I’m going to continue using this great salutation whenever I can. And my message to you, dear reader?

My Visit to the Beach, and a Poem Shared

Greetings friends

One of the key elements of the current temporary hermitage, the current safe-haven by the side of the road, is that it is literally two minutes walk from a very uncrowded and quiet coastal beach.

It is a place of golden sands (I know that’s a cliche but in this case I have the evidence!), gentle wave action, and the promise of a possible serenity of a kind I’ve not been close to for a long while.

While I don’t visit this little slice of Pacific coast every day, I get to walk and or sit there several days a week. And when I do, I find that it’s always uplifting and relaxing. A reminder too, of my oneness with all nature. All of us are actually nature, along with every other living thing on our planet (and of course elsewhere too).

Today, for the second time I built a little ‘shrine’ on the sand.  Walking away from my little temporary temple, a poetic voice entered my mind and wrote itself a few lines. Too engrossed in the moment, I neglected to record it on my phone, so when I got back to the hermitage I wrote it as remembered.

And now, I would like to share it with you. I am grateful that I am actually able to share it, so thank you.

WE STAND ON SACRED GROUND

I planted the branch,
the branch of a fallen tree person.
On the beach,
in the sand of the beach.

And I built a shrine
around that branch.
A pop-up shrine.
Shells, stones, and a piece of coal.

A shrine to Varuna.
A shrine to Surya, to Saraswati.
A shrine to all the gods
of Earth, Sky, Water.
A shrine to the gods of all beings.

A shrine on the beach
is subject to tidal flow.
And soon, this simple shrine,
pop-up and temporary in nature,
will be engulfed.

Lord Varuna will make his claim.
What has emerged, must always return.

with love and in peace