Category Archives: Remembrance

Not Talking About Time

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If my life was ruled by ‘clock’ time (which generally speaking it is in spite of my many protests and despite my continuing meditation and other practices designed to assist in developing a sense of being fully present thereby enabling one to truly live in the here and now), I would be telling you now that there’s been a long gap between posts and that this has occurred because two and A half months ago I had a stroke and I didn’t leave the hospital untill less than a fortnight ago.

But there’s been no ‘gap’, the posts will carry on flowing along (or not) of their own accord; and while it is true that my brain and heart colluded in an action that has for now resulted in some damage to other bits of my body, the simple reality is that life has gone on doing what life does, and I AM still here, with perhaps a little more of a clue to the ‘how to live in the here and now’ as well as the whole ‘I AM THAT I AM and not the body’ mysteries.

Obviously, I’m not into swapping ‘You think your hospital stay was bad? Well let me tell you … .’ stories. Now I think about it, there are quite a few of the good, uplifting, kindness and compassion, decency and respect variety a couple of which I might write about if they decide they want to be shared.

But for now (when else is there?) I am here (where else is there?) trying to flow in the life I share with my partner hermit in our new (for us) hermitage just over the other side of the village Main Road.

In the Dream The Word Was Written

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I dreamed I was drawing an OM symbol. Nothing else, no memory of a dream setting or situation, no other dream characters; only the view – as from my own eyes – of my hand making that sacred mark.

It is quiet during morning prayers today. At one point, after completing one prayer, I turned the page, and began praying the prayer there. Attentively and prayerfully, which is a really nice thing for me to notice because oftentimes I can be a lip level prayer sayer.

As I prayed, I was drawn to the part of that page labelled ‘blank space’. It was at that moment the memory of that dream began to arise.

Instinctively, without thought, I reached for my pen – this pen I now use to make these notes – and inscribed (as that dream memory seemed to demand) the sacred OM in that formerly blank space.

This all transpired as the memory unfolded; really only a matter of a just a few seconds of clock time. But, of course, what meaning is there to ‘clock time’?

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God. And the Word was God. And the Word is God. No beginning. No end.

Om Om Om

PS Thank you John for allowing me to use your words. I know I have paraphrased and modified them a little with my own words, but somehow I don’t think you’d mind.

A Prayer to Share: for the Divine Mother

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Namaste and Welcome

Today I would like to share with you a prayer (it’s a poem too, but …) I’ve written in praise of the Divine Mother. It’s actually the second prayer I’ve written to and for her. I shared that first one, called simply, A Prayer to the Divine Mother on the blog previously and you can find it here.

That post will also give you some background to my reverence for the Divine Mother – what she means to me; where my initial devotion comes from; my heart sense that this universal creative energy drives and sustains all creation; and finally how Divine Mother may be worshipped in many and varied (and even no) forms.

The prayer I share with you today – Jai Shree Maa –  emerged as I knelt chanting those exact word at the alter of a holy place dedicated to the Divine Mother as revered by many in her form as Our Lady of the Rosary.

It is a temple in that name I sometimes go pilgrimming to for quietness, meditation, and devotion.

Please accept my prayer. Thank you

JAI SHREE MAA

In this temple to the Divine Mother
upon my knees and praying.
Jai Shree Maa

I chant with sacred love in my heart,
sacred words upon my lips.
Jai Shree Maa

Divine Mother, with these words,
Jai Shree Maa
I invoke your holy presence;
I speak from my heart to yours.

With love and wishes for peace

Paul the Hermit

Lakshmi Visits: Timely Reminders

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Today I have a story to share. It’s one of those stories in which one little random (as if!) event or occurence leads to another, then another. Like life really – one thing leading to another.

When I think about it, this small sharing is very much like many of the other stories I’ve shared: about my prayer life; about realisations and revelations I encounter along the way.

(note from inner editor: Please try to ignore him going on and on like this. You know what he’s like don’t you? You’d think he might find some shorter way to say something so simple wouldn’t you? Something like, that’s why the blog’s called Notes from the Hermit’s Cave and leave it at that. He really should just get out of the way and let me get on with the writing)

Ignoring that little interruption, I will begin our story. Yesterday morning. I was in the very act of opening my Bhagavad Gita to get to some of my inserted prayers, when without thought I turned towards the back of the little book, landing on the second to last page.

On these facing pages I have a treasured image of Lakshmi and on the facing page I have copied a mantra to her that I particularly like and sometimes chant.

Smiling to myself, I thought that, today (as in yesterday) I would spend a little time with Lakshmi.

For me personally, Lakshmi represents the eventual realisation of my aspiration to complete Self Knowledge, the final realisation of the oneness of all things in one absolute reality. For me that says freedom, liberation, Moksha some call it.

So she – who is one more manifestation of the Divine Feminine and the Divine Mother – represents for me that state of peace, bliss, harmony, as well as a perfect balance in both my internal and external lives.

Sometimes when I feel in need of a little extra courage, some piece of missing knowledge, or perhaps I’m feeling the need to persevere with something or other just a bit longer, I’ll think of Maa Lakshmi, and often recite her mantra.

Really, for me, it’s simply a kind of way to remind myself that the courage, knowledge, perseverance, already exist within me. No need to go looking elsewhere.

I’ve read somewhere that many people appreciate Lakshmi’s  fickleness. You never know what she’ll do, what’s actually going to happen.

Which obviously is a way of saying that thinking of Lakshmi can remind you (or me in this instance) that life is like that: it’s all ups and downs, it’s unpredictable in that it gives us things or situations we don’t want, while also frustratingly not always giving us what we do want.

In other words, Lakshmi reminds me that, whatever happens in my life, regardless of my opinions or wishes on the matter, is happening exactly as things are supposed to be. Of course it’s not really ‘fickleness’ is it? That’s just how we see it sometimes as we seem to impose our own human changeability on the Absolute Reality which is just the way it is, no duality!

Anyway, before that pesky inner editor makes another pop-up appearance, let’s move on wth the story.

So, a ‘little time with Lakshmi’ has turned into a perfect illustration of life working out as it does, and not necessarily according to our little momentary expectations or desires. That planned ‘little time’ has morphed into, so far, a full day and a half.

Back to yesterday morning then: I chanted the Lakshmi mantra, then decided to listen to a recording of the mantra I have so I could contemplate what She means to me.

Right away I discovered that the music file was corrupted, and that sent me on a several hour long quest to find a replacement. Suffice it to say that there are what seemed like an infinite choice of candidates to choose from.

But, even after those few hours, I’d failed to find a version that satisfied all my requirements: it had to be a relaxing, clear chant I could ‘sing along to’; it had to be free of bells, whistles, and other superfluous adornments. Above all, it had to feel right.

As I went forward with this quest, I did in fact come across and listen to several lovely versions of the mantra, that while not quite right for my purposes, I did think might make for good and happy general listening.

These – or the links thereto – I emailed to myself and to my hermit partner. I then put the search aside, thinking that the right mantra will eventually turn up.

Not too long after this, I heard coming from the direction of my hermit partner, a truly magnetic and beautiful version of the Lakshmi mantra. You can find the mantra here

‘Where did you find that?’ I asked wonderingly.

‘You sent it to me,’ was the incredulous and puzzled reply.

Really? I honestly had no memory of hearing that particular version, and I still have no idea about it. In any case, once it was forwarded back to me, I set about listening to the mantra through my earbuds.

Blown away, would be one way to describe my reaction. Probably more accurate to say that listening to that twenty something minutes of beautiful music blew me not away, but inwards; completely and utterly to inner depths rarely experienced. Another full story all its own if truth be told. Perhaps another time.

The serendipitous turning to Lakshmi in my little Bhagavad Gita was yesterday morning. And the poem was written this morning as we listened to the mantra itself. A listening, I might add, that has only just now ended as other things required attention. Several hours, in other words, of exposure to beauty itself.

Anyway, my dear friends, what I share now is my response to that listening experience. Or to put it more accurately, the poem that follows is my response to my response.

Hearing the Song of the Universe, is the name of the poem. And it is an absolutely suitable and appropriate title I think.

May you also hear that song.

HEARING THE SONG OF THE UNIVERSE

Om Shree Maha Laxmi Namah.
The beauty of the words, the blessings of the melody,
infuse me with a mood prayerful.
Inner resonance has my Self reverberating
with the rhythm.
With the drumbeats accompanying the voices of angels.
Like raindrops dripping from eaves
after the storm has passed.

Words of praise for Maa Laxmi
meld with the hypnotic wind
emerging from the flute.
Wood and wind,
and angelic voices.
Together they sing.
They sing the song of the Universe.

Tears well at the corners
of the eyes of the worshipping monk.
‘Let it all go.’
The encouraging words
of the Beloved enter the heart of the monk.
Yet, the tears do not fall.
No, not yet.
In the meantime, the monk breathes.

Story of a Misadventure & An Apology

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Today I’d like to share with you a short cautionary tale. It’s a true story, relating events that took place very recently.

There was a blogger, a serious student on the spiritual path; a monk whose mission in publishing his blog was – is – to share that path with others, to share the lessons he’s learned/learning. He sees it as one important aspect of his ‘doing God’s work’, reaching out to others of like heart and like mind.

Anyway, this blogger, he suddenly felt an intuition: he thought, I’ll set up an account on (insert here very popular platform) social media. That’s how to promote my blog he thought, and attract more readers.

So, dutifully, he set up an account and began posting. One or two poems, a couple of photos with commentary, that sort of thing. The plan was, post whatever seemed might be enlightening, whenever the feeling was there.

The blogger felt that this was a sort of ‘next step’. He thought that bringing more readers to his blog would help him with his quest to love more, and to share love.

But. Something wasn’t quite right. Sure, he, the blogger was excited by this new venture, this expansion of his service to the Divine and to the world. But he felt – literally and physically – a bit sick. A kind of nervousness gnawed at his guts; he just felt yuck.

‘I can’t do this,’ he thought to himself. ‘It’s not right’

So, there and then he resolved to delete the account, to close that chapter forever, and bring his focus back more fully to his blog. That’s where, he realised, was where God’s work could be done, as well as where his own passions lay.

But, the resolve, didn’t last long. He just had to act immediately. So, again right there and then, he deleted the account.

Instantly, a wave of relief swept over our blogger friend. He felt free, back on track. He now felt less burdened by a burden he’s made for himself, a burden that there really was no need to be carrying.

Okay, I confess: the blogger of whom we speak is in fact me. I know, you guessed that already, but it’s a disturbing saga and I guess I had some need to distance myself a little, at least to start with.

So, why the big relief? Why did it feel so right at the outset, but – almost immediately – felt so wrong to the extent of putting me ‘out of sorts’ physically and mentally?

Funny. That ‘out of sorts’ expression. That’s exactly the root of the issue right there I think. Years ago I withdrew from all social media – though I am on a photo sharing platform that is simply for that purpose and only that purpose, sharing photos.

You see, I thought (and still think) that social media generally had become a ground for conflict, and the celebration of conflict; it was a ground for corruption, gossip and sensation, for all the worst of the news (I know, the best too). Anyway, you know wht I mean: I’m not alone in giving it all up.

And, yet, here I was, feeling led to reopen that particular social media account. An example, I think, of an ego-driven desire for gain disguising itself as a genuine heart or soul intuition or calling.

I choose not to criticise or comdemn any social media platform. They are what they are. All I can say is that it’s not for me, not my ‘sort of thing’, not my cup of tea as it were. No wonder I was feeling out of sorts!

In my selfish, ego-driven compulsion to ‘increase traffic’ (what a horrible expression), I forgot entirely – as we so often do when blinded by desire – that this blog is seen and read by exactly those who are meant to see and read it – you!

So, I apologise to you for that sudden blindness, and for ignoring the absolute reality that it’s all working out just as it’s supposed to.

Thank you for making that so.

Peace and love
Paul the hermit

Foster Your True Self: It’s A Big Deal

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Today I finished watching  a beautiful and extremely fascinating documentary.  It was about life in a Trappist monastery as well as a fascinating history of that movement. I was struck by something one of the monks said.

He was referring to what he and his fellow monks are actually doing with their lives in the monastery. He said their lifestyle was helping them to:

‘foster who we truly are before God.’

Hearing this, I had to pause the video, make notes, and do some thinking. What had actually struck me, my first thought on pausing, was that this is exactly what I’m doing as a hermit monk dwelling in our Hermitage. Exactly what I’m doing. Well, at least it’s what I’m aspiring to.

There are two aspects or primary intentions that inform the life I try to live as a hermit and monk that are in fact integral one to the other; they merge actually to become one primary focus of my life.

I practice an ever evolving and I hope intensifying devotion to the divine, with the upliftment of the world and all beings as its central theme.

The other, integral focus, is an equally ever evolving and intensifying quest for self-knowledge, for the answer to the question, who am I?

In other words, I am attempting to foster who I truly am before God. Foster as in ‘encourage the development of …’ (as one definition puts it).

In this case, the development is the growth of the knowledge of my true nature – who I am above and beyond this physical (and mental) creature running around madly trying to figure things out.

In my life there is much effort devoted to the cultivation – a synonym for foster – of that knowledge: meditation, prayer, contemplation, study, just sitting, being still. Did I mention the aspirational nature of all this? It’s an ongoing project to say the least.

Speaking of aspirational: Two more synonyms for foster that I like are nurture and support. Both are even more in that aspirational category; at least it feels like that sometimes. Actually, maybe there’s a more accurate way for me to be putting this.

After all, as I think about it now, even I would agree that my whole lifestyle, my entire way of being in the world supports and nurtures me.

Except for me, myself, and I, that is: Lest the inner grammarian sends me mad in a search for antonyms for foster, let me just say that I am overly skilled in the self-critical and self-destructive departments. My ability to put myself down and to tear myself apart is legendary.

Anyway, with overwhelming nurture and support coming from my partner hermit all the time reinforcing my sense of Self, all I have to do is work on ridding myself of these self-destrucitive and self-critical tendencies.

So, the conditions for the banishment of self-loathing are there; all that’s missing is discipline on my own part in seeing the Divine in myself as I profess to be trying to see it in everyone else.

I need to be rid of the forgetfulness  that blinds me to the Truth that is actually very plain to see.

Speaking of the Divine, the ‘before God’ is the vital element for me. God is all there is, so it is always before God that I act, whether in a positive or in a not so great manner.

The best prescription is for me to remember. To remember that God is everywhere and everything (did I say that already?). To remember that me, myself, and I, are also included in that everything and everywhere.

I think that once I do remember these truths even for the odd moment now and again, then the real fostering of who I truly am will have begun.

The Hermits (and the Lion) Sleep Tonight

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The Lion Sleeps Tonight. That’s the song name I always think of. Sometimes you might hear it called Wimoweh. While it’s the song’s Zulu title, it’s actually not a real word: it references a mishearing (and subsequent recording by a group in the early ’50s) of Uyimube (the original chorus) which is Zulu for you are a lion.

In any case, I feel like I’ve known the song all my life. I suppose I have: it was a smash hit when I was seven or eight years old. It’s been one of those songs that have stuck, become a constant presence, to be hummed occasionally, to be sung even less frequently, heard rarely, but loved and familiar.

Anyway, recently (in March I think) my affection for the song surfaced. I was thinking about something my partner hermit had said about creativity and suddenly the melody to The Lion Sleeps Tonight came into mind.

That melody, and my memory of the lyrics then became integral to the poem I wrote to express some of my thoughts about my partner hermit’s statement. It helped me say what I had to say.

I hope you like it – the song – Listen to the Tokens doing their version from 1961; check out the lyrics too. It’s a happy song, a reassuring song of safety and love.

With that I humbly offer my poem. Enjoy

THE HERMITS SLEEP TONIGHT

A creative way to start the day.
A prayerful way, a prayerful way.

In Samsara’s jungle there is a village, a suburban village.
A prayerful way, a prayerful way.

Near the village – no, in the village
the hermits sleep tonight.
A prayerful way, a prayerful way.

The walled enclosure,
their very own paradise,
like a castle keep,
keeps them safe.
A peaceful way, a peaceful way.

Hush my sisters; hush my brothers.
No need to fear the jungle.
A prayerful way, a prayerful way.

Day breaks; Surya rises.
A prayerful way, a prayerful way.

Sleeping hermits gather, to break the fast.
A prayerful way, a prayerful way.

Fast broken, sacred tea imbibed.
A prayerful way, a prayerful way

The hermits begin, begin their day of prayer.

A creative way to start the day.
A prayerful way, a prayerful way.

The Hermits Visit a Coffee Shop

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Namaste and Greetings

Welcome to another poetic sharing post. There have been a few lately haven’t there? I had thought that once I had the new page Poems of Devotion up and running that I would only feature one every now and again in its own post.

However the one I feel inclined to share with you today is slightly different. Well, not really: it’s still a devotional piece, but for some reason feels a little other than that.

This hermit’s choice: the number 1 coffee shops in the Hermitage neighbourhood

For a start, it’s set in a café and features the thoughts of a hermit monk (me), and is about what’s going on in that space at that moment. As well as what’s in his mind and heart. Oh yes, almost forgot: the action takes place on Election Day.

So, what is it that makes me feel this poem is ‘still devotional but slightly other’? Well, aside from the setting, timing, and so on I just described, I sense that, in its words, in its composition, the hermit has sought to record (through the poem) that moment in the café as the reaching out to all those fellow beings sharing the space, to recognise, and to celebrate the divine in them all.

May that intention shine through to you too, dear reader

THE HERMITS HAVE COFFEE ON ELECTION DAY

I feel like I’m sitting
in a Hopper painting.
Just off the village green
at a coffee shop, in the Toukley Mall.

There are people; aren’t there always?
Coming and going.
This one catching gossip; that one seeking connection;
One or two heads down, backs bent
over newspapers assimilating myriad tales of woe.
It’s election day.

Of little interest to the hermits,
out of the hermitage for coffee.
A treat that comes at a cost.

Voices – of people and of headlines –
speak, some even shout,
of worldly things. To us not real.

Leaves me hollow.
That’s the vibe,
the feeling inside
– And that’s not real either.

Mindful? Full of What?

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Anyone who has tried to meditate for more than a minute, knows very well that the mind right away jumps into overdrive, trying its hardest to keep us nice and distracted; anything but quiet and peace is the mind’s aim. Speaking for myself, all I want to do is get rid of that mind altogether.

But, I know, that would be a mistake. I may not like how my mind behaves sometimes, but I do actually quite like having one, a mind that is. I guess, for me, it’s about realising that my mind is here to stay, and can be either my friend or my foe.

Trouble is, when trying to meditate, I can easily believe it’s my worst enemy. Another mistake, I think, that arises from a not so discerning attitude to the thoughts that flood in seemingly at random.

But, sometimes in that quiet and still space – and even if that quiet and peaceful space hasn’t yet been reached – a thought comes from the mind friend, not the foe. It seems I must learn discernment. Here’s a good example.

Not long into my meditation earlier today, but already bombarded with random thoughts, memories, and other distractions to said peace and quiet, an idea came that just caught my attention. Suddenly, there seemed to be a full-blown idea for what sounded like a great blog post.

I din’t have this notebook with me, and though I had my phone handy, I thought, no, be firm, don’t let interruptions in. Of course, I thought that I’d remember the idea, but sure enough, I didn’t. Now, it’s nowhere to be found. I mean it must be in some tiny neuron in my brain, but it’s hiding pretty well!

Later, after my meditation session, I thought to myself, how come I could make a list of all the less than useful thoughts, memories, ideas and random mental craziness that tried its best to keep me distracted, yet I have no idea what that one wonderful blog post idea was?

I think it might possibly be about attachment; a lesson I’m giving myself in discerning between what thoughts are from my friend mind which ones from my foe mind, the mind running wild with its accomplice, my ego.

It’s a lesson I badly need, I think. Endless thoughts of little or no use to me have stayed, while the one that might have been helpful is gone, seemingly forever.

Yes indeed. Perhaps ny perspective on what ideas ad thoughts are useful to me and what ones aren’t, needs to be contemplated upon.

Actually, it’s not really needing a lot of contemplation: I mean, the one idea I thought would be great is gone. But looking at it the other way around, the fact that the great pile of not so good thoughts staying with me has given us this post I am now writing, and you are reading.

Perspective. It’s all about perspective. And discernment.