There’s a tiger in the town. Is There Really?

Welcome friends to another post

In yesterday’s post  (which you can find here), I referred to a Chinese fable, and I said I’d share the story in its entirety with you. So, today, here it is. I came across the fable by chance (not that there is any such thing of course) and I have added a few of my own embellishments.

So please enjoy.

There was once a great sage, a wise wandering monk, who as he travelled from village to village would, by his simple presence and through conversations with the people he met, show people the Tao. Through his life and words he demonstrated to those he met how they could also follow The Way

One day as the sun was setting, the monk entered the outskirts of a rather large village, more a town of substance than a village. As was his custom, the great sage followed the road that would lead him to the centre of the town.

Before long, he was approached by a man dressed in the garb of a government official. The official bowed deeply to the monk and told him that his master, the town mayor, requested the visitor’s presence and would be greatly honoured if he would join his master for the evening meal at the mayor’s home.

Returning the bow, the sage readily accepted the summons and proceeded to follow the official to the mayor’s house where he was greeted by the mayor himself and his family.

After a sumptuous dinner the monk sat with the mayor sharing tea and conversing in a friendly manner. The sage posed a question to the mayor.

‘Tell me sir. Suppose a man came to your door and told you that there was a tiger running loose in the middle of the town. Would you believe him?’

The mayor, although surprised by ths unusual question, did not hesitate.

‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘If one man told me, I would not believe it.’

‘Well,’ the sage smiled as he began to speak again. ‘Suppose two men came to the door and told you there was a tiger loose in the middle of the town. Would you believe them?’

This time the mayor hesitated, giving himself time to think about his response.

‘No,’ he began after a moment’s thought. ‘If two men told me, I would not believe .’

‘Very well then,’ the sage said. ‘Let us suppose that three men came to your door and told you there was a tiger loose in the middle of the town. Would you believe them?’

This time the mayor had to really stop and think. After a couple of minutes he answered the sage.

‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘If three men told me there was a tiger in the middle of the town, then I would beleive them.’

‘Very interesting,’ the wise one replied gently. ‘Interesting because there still is no tiger in the middle of the town.’

Truth Is

Namaste friends. Welcome.

Fake news, propaganda, misinformation, disinformation, manipulative advertising. Such a tsunami of information threatening to swamp us, all of it claiming to be ‘facts’ or ‘true’, mean we are almost continually asking, what is true? Who can tell anymore? When we look at the world we live in today it is a rare thing when we are able to tell if something or someone is real or true.

For me there is only one solution: stop looking to the world as the source of any kind of answers to anything, and particularly when it comes to trying to sort out what is true and what isn’t.

The only place you will find the answer to the question ‘what is the truth of …?’ and know for certain that it is true, is within yourself. You are the only one who can decide what is true and what isn’t, what is right and what is wrong.

It doesn’t mean you ignore all information from external sources; it only means that you appeal to that inner part of yourself, the intellect and beyond, to help you reach your own truth sifted from all that information.

It’s a well trod path in philosophical circles: the debate around absolute versus relative truth(s) has been going on for a few thousand years already, and it’s unlikely to reach any kind of resolution anytime soon.

I’m not saying that a thing might be true for you and not true for someone else. At the same time I’m not saying that there is some kind of externally arbitrated single, absolute truth that is always true regardless of whether one agrees or not.

What I am saying is that, if you come to the truth of a thing, situation, person, whatever, from within yourself and it is accompanied by that inner ‘I just know this is right’ feeling one gets sometime, then putting it simply, it is truth. Period; fullstop; that’s all there is to it. End of story.

If someone tells me there is a tiger in the centre of town, how can I really know if there actually is a tiger in the centre of town? And if three (or three hundred) people tell me there is a tiger in the centre of town? Well even then, how can I really know for sure if there is a tiger? There might be, or there might not be.

Okay then, how do I find out? Putting it like that the answer seems obvious doesn’t it? I go and look for myself.

But you know even then, do my eyes deceive me? Do I know what a tiger looks like? You see, even if my physical eyes see what I’ve been led to believe is a tiger, I still need to use my intellect, or even my intuition, to assess its real identity, to figure out the truth for myself. I mean, for my Self.

Afterword:

The tiger example is from a Chinese fable from the Taoist tradition. I’ll put my slightly elaborated version in my next post, and once it’s there you can find it here.

Food & Drink of the Gods

Namaste and Welcome friends

An idea that’s kept its hold on me for a while now concerns Black Tea and Dry Toast. It’s a part of my almost daily diet, and I’ve wanted to write about it. Anyway, here’s the note I first jotted down when the idea first came:

Black Tea and Dry Toast – In Reality is what we might call the food and drink of the Gods, of liberation, especially when I remember to offer it to Brahman and it becomes Prasada: simple, appetising, comforting, nourishing.
         What else?

Yes, sounds kind of weird, writing about such an apparently mundane subject. But, really, I  can say it definitely is for me the food and drink of the Gods. And as such, it moves beyond the little r reality of worldly food, of mundane considerations. It takes on the big R of Transcendental Reality.

Simple, plain food and drink. Pared down from all the extras and the padding, all the ‘additives’ we generally ply ourselves with. In a real sense this simplicity is in keeping with the uncluttered, minimal life I am called to live.

And everyone knows how comforting tea and toast is, how welcome it is pretty much any time of the day or night. Nourishing, too, for the spirit and the mind.

Actually for the body also. At least it is for me as a person who used to eat way too many biscuits, and take jam (thickly) on my toast. As I say, simple with no additives.

All of this equals in my view liberation. Freedom. Freedom at least sometimes, from harmful substances; Liberation from complicated preparations and the stresses and tedium that comes with it.

Black Tea and Dry Toast represents a snack (sometimes even a small meal) that at least for a short time can liberate us from stresses and tiredness. At other times, it gives us that freedom that comes from indulging in simple pleasures.

The food and drink of the Gods is not a complicated, invented and dressed up thing. It is plain, simple, comforting, nourishing.

And yummy.

PS Okay. That photo stuck in the middle up there isn’t quite in keeping with the topic is it? Alright, I admit it: Sometimes I really indulge myself and add banana to my toast. And yes, sometimes apples and oranges too

Awen: Bring On the Creative Spirit

Hello friends

My last post spoke a little about my study of the Bhagavad Gita, and it prompted me to share a little more with you about the actual book itself. Well, not the book as such; more like some of the words I’ve written on the title page:

I stand always on sacred ground and beneath sacred skies.
Awen          Awen          Awen
You are always with [a] devotee: Your Self


Every time I open that little book I see and read those three lines. They are all sacred to me with great personal meaning. Four distinct ideas, from four sources. In a sense reading them is a kind of preparation for my actual reading of the Gita.

While all those words are special to me, today what seemed to call out to be heard, was Awen.  Or I should say, the three repetitions of the word.

Awen has been special to me ever since a friend told me about it many years ago. It’s a Welsh word, basically defined as poetic – or creative – inspiration. It is sometimes personified as the Muses that inspires artists generally.

Wikipedia says, Awen comes from Indo-European root uel, meaning ‘to blow’. Awel the Welsh word for breeze shares this root. Awen is also ‘flowing spirit’, as in the flow of energy that is the essence of life. Reading this made me think of Bob Dylan:

The answer my friend
is blowing in the wind

Bob Dylan Blowing in the Wind

The symbol for Awen is beautiful. Three rays of light that emanate from three points of light. There are many interpretations for the three rays and the three points, but the ones I like have them symbolizing Earth, Sea, and Air; body, mind, and spirit; love, wisdom, and truth.

I like the idea that the three points are the actual foundation of Awen itself: the understanding of truth, the love of truth, and the maintaining of truth.

Enough with the explanations and definitions. The repetition of Awen three times is a kind of chant or prayer. As such, it’s an invocation of Awen, the divine creative energy – or the muse.

So there you have it: a little more about my special little book. Don’t worry, I’ll try not to make a habit of this. I guess it’s what happens when something is in your consciousness, and you just never know when Awen will reach out and bless you.

Thank you

Peace

Seeking Justice: Commitments

This morning I was just sitting, or at least trying to just sit. You know, being quiet, relaxing the mind. All that kind of thing. And of course, an idea sprung into that not so cooperative mind, so I grabbed my notebook. Just as I went to put this latest brainwave on paper I noticed a very extraordinary note I must have made I don’t know when:

I’ve just looked it up: It’s a slight paraphrase of a verse from the Old Testament, from the prophet Micah. Where I read it, I can’t say (the note is at least several weeks old). But to quote another little note from some unknown source, I always like to:

Let the noble thoughts come to me from all corners of the universe.

unknown

I’m just like everyone else, always wanting the easy solutions and you can tell that can’t you? ‘How to live the good life? Simple!’. I mean really; hardly humble in my approach in that note was I? Well, let’s talk about what Micah says, not my own lack of humility.

Seek justice; practise kindness; and walk humbly with [your] God.

There are numerous versions online of this verse (Micah, 6:8), so I will leave it to you to check those out for yourself. I’ve added the word your because all those versions do say ‘your God’. But even in this paraphrase it’s easy to see there is nothing at all simple about any of these injunctions.

I discovered that this verse is often invoked in times of grave injustice, or crisis. I think it goes without saying that we would be hard pressed to think of a time that was not a time of grave injustice or crisis. Certainly, we are living in one of those times of injustice and crisis.

There’s no need to or purpose served by getting into how ‘grave’ injustice is now compared to some other time; there’s no need or point to weighing up the relative severity of one crisis versus another. Injustice is injustice; a crisis is a crisis.

In other words, the present is always the time to heed the injunctions of this verse.

So, what do we do if we are to seek justice? Running the risk of sounding flippant, I would say that there are as many answers to this question as there are people to answer it. Now, you would think this would make the task impossible; too many cooks and all that. But actually it’s perfect. Why? Because it means that whoever you are, whatever your situation, you can actively seek justice.

Or, I am sorry: I should say I, me. Not you. I can actively seek justice. But, you say, you are a hermit; you live in a cave (not literally but I know what you mean); you hardly ever even talk to people in ‘real life’. Yes, all true. And I would say that the action I take is by no means at the level I know I want it to be. I’m doing nowhere enough.

Does that mean I’m leaving the cave? Going out into the world, onto the streets to join other brave souls seeking justice? Believe me, I ask myself such questions constantly. But to speak truth to you now, I will say that I know absolutely, in my heart, that my role is something different.

If anything, I need to go deeper into the cave; I need to go deeper into the inner world of my own Self. I know that in this way I will join with so many others in what I’ve come to call the Invisible Community of people all over the world living lives of contemplation and prayer. Or, speaking for me personally, trying to live a life of contemplation and prayer.

By so doing I am at least in a tiny way supporting those millions of others out there on the streets, in the aid groups, running campaigns, writing letters, helping the victims of injustice, in all kinds of miraculous, brave, and innovative ways.

So that’s my commitment to you. To deepen my prayer; to intensify my contemplation; to more fully realise my union with all living beings; and to really join with the invisible community in its efforts.

And, you ask, this blog? What’s it about then? Well, notes, musings, thoughts and reflections all aimed at reminding me of my responsibilities. And hopefully along the way, solidifying my union with you and the rest of creation, just a bit.

Peace and love

PS I haven’t forgotten ‘practise kindness’ or ‘walk humbly with your God’. Maybe another time.

Talking About Sloth

Sloth.  Its a good word isn’t it?  One of those words you don’t have to look up to know what it means.  But if you do look it up, you’ll find it has a couple of meanings.  One is: laziness, indolence and a reluctance to make an effort.

Is sloth a bad thing?  Certainly it gets a bad rap; I mean: lazy? Indolent? Not willing to make an effort? Hardly words of praise. On the other hand we value words like busy, productive, efficient, hard working, and the rest. In our culture, these are definitely words of praise.

Go out and play; Read a book; Go to school; Study hard; Get a good job (whatever that means); How much do you make a year? When are up for promotion?  Demands and questions like these are constants in all our lives, and they force us into defining ourselves by what we do whether we are a little kid at school, a teenager trying to sort life out, an adult trying to make our way in the world the best we can.

Yes, it’s true I think: it always seems to be a about defining ourselves by what we do, rather than who we are, or what we stand for.  Always we have to be doing something.  Ever heard that little identity joke, I’m a human being, not a human doing?  I wonder how many of us would feel lost if we shifted from that need to be a doer to another definition of our identity, one less reliant on what we do or on what we’ve done in the past, or will do in the future.

Well, I hear you saying, this is all fine and dandy, but my boss won’t pay me unless I show up, there are meals to cook for the kids, I’m running late for an appointment, the lawn needs mowing and after that I have to write a report for my night class.

All very true, valid, and all of them things that do need to be done. We all have a life don’t we? But perhaps sometimes, even just now and again, and perhaps just for a few minutes at a time, you can stop. Just stop. Thats all. Stop and just do nothing, or rather stop and simply be.

Have I mentioned a favourite little two word sentence I really really like? Just sit. Don’t read, don’t think, don’t try to stop thinking, don’t ‘meditate’. All that’s required is to do nothing. Do No Thing. Actually, I think I’ve found a new favourite.

On, remember I said there are a couple of definitions of sloth?  Well the other one tells us that a sloth is a slow moving nocturnal mammal noted for hanging upside down from tree branches.  It lives entirely in the trees and is capable of only very slow movement on the ground.

So, I guess you should be very careful when you tell someone else I’m a sloth. Mind you, putting aside the hanging upside down bit, and the nocturnal requirement, it’s probably not such a bad way of being to emulate, do you think?

Have a lazy (slothful) day.

Silence. Could I have some more please?


Silence isn’t my strong suit. Or I should say, keeping quiet isn’t what I’m known for. One of the main reasons l live the life I do is because I am very sensitive to noise, but my problems start when I seem to forget that other people, and my own peace of mind, are affected by excessive noise created by me too.

And noise includes talking too much. Of course there are any number of reasons a person talks too much. Some people even believe they talk so much because it quietens the mind. No, afraid not. Been there. Not for me anyway.

Insecurity, nervousness, fear, low confidence, compulsive behaviours. The list could go on and on. When you think about it, the why isn’t always so important as the how to fix it question.

I spend a lot of time alone, in solitude, that gives other people and on rare occasions my mind, a break. I spend a lot of time listening to music to which I always listen intently. Of course that works on a number of levels, and is uplifting most of the time.

Speaking of listening to music, I usually use headphones like a lot of people. And I am blessed, absolutely and truly blessed, to have really good noise cancelling on my headphones. Anyone who uses ANC knows that it’s almost a miracle and makes the experiencing of music even better than it already is.

But I have discovered another use for the noise cancelling. I don’t always want to listen to anything: sometimes even I want some quiet, some silence. So, probably not the first person to do this, but I use ANC just by itself, just to shut out external noise.
But I’ve found it does more than this. Turning it on somehow creates another space. I actually feel like I’m enclosed in a space, or place. I hope that makes sense.

We tend to think of quiet and silence as meaning the same thing, and obviously they are similar and we use them interchangeably a lot of the time. But, sometimes they seem to be two distinct concepts. Quiet is an absence of noise. Whereas silence often seems to me to be a kind of solid state, an entity that comes into being for a short while (or longer hopefully) and encloses one in something like a cocoon or protected space.

Of course this state can be attained in different ways. For me lately I find with ANC on for itself alone, I can relax more quickly; I feel sort of ‘protected’ and safer somehow. Anyway, enough for this little tip from me. Perhaps headphone makers should change the label from Active Noise Cancelling, to Active Silence Creation

Peace and love

Look! I’m using two hands!

Namaste my friends


In my last post I shared with you a poem. Just another note as I said then. Today I find myself thinking about sharing a drawing with you. Or it’s a design, a ‘symbolic’ illustration. I’m not sure what to call it. Actually illustration is a good word in this case: I’m not exactly sharing it for its own sake, but to illustrate the topic for today’s post. Anyway, moving right along.

For a lot of years I have every so often had an urge to create patterns and designs, and just to colour in things. Just to see colour on the page I think. Just to be making them. They are of many and varied shapes and some are paint, some markers, and some pencil. I picked this one more or less at random so you can see the kind of thing I’m spending way too many words telling you about.

I really enjoy making these things. It can be quite a meditative process; of course mind can wander as always, but I find that if I just focus on the exact mark I’m making or a particular detail, then it pulls me in. Into the zone as you might say. In that sense it can be an intense experience.

And therein lies the problem: Sometimes, particularly with pencils I can be be so focused and intent, that I end up hurting my hand. Holding the pencil too tight, pressing too hard trying to squeeze more colour onto the page (that’s what it feels like anyway), or just old fashioned and typical impatience pulling me to push harder.

Whatever the cause, nowadays if I even begin to use a pencil (writing with a pen is okay for some reason) my hand begins to ache. It’s not terrible pain, just a nagging thing. But certainly it is what you might call a disincentive.

While I was looking through a pile of old drawings a couple of days ago, I thought, I wander if I can use my other hand instead? Now I’m not one of those people who can switch between hands with ease; if there is an opposite to ambidextrous, then that’s me. But I thought, I’m going to try anyway.

So I took a coloured pencil and paper and with my non-dominent hand (that’s an understatement if I’ve ever made one) and tried to just pretend I was colouring in some shape. No lines as such, just colouring in strokes.

Alien alert! That’s what it felt like. Completely and utterly alien. Although my hand wasn’t totally out of control, it felt like it was. Still I persisted, and you know I won’t say I got to the point of it feeling natural or fluid or comfortable, but I could tell there was potential for that to happen.

In a funny way it wasn’t even my hand that was the problem; it was more a mind or brain thing where I just felt out of joint, not connected or something. Quite disorienting actually. But I think I’m going to try again. At least I thought I can use my other hand for the big areas, leaving my usual one for the finer work when necessary.

I suppose it’s like anything new isn’t it? Or rather in this instance it was about realising I’m not able to do a thing, an activity that is meaningful to me because the way I was doing it was making it too hard, or even impossible. And actually causing damage.

Who can say why it’s only just occured to me after so many years of struggling with the issue (on and off). I guess, there’s a right time for everything, or as I often think, there is never a wrong time. Life just is.

Never too late as they say, to do it differently. I guess we’ll have to see what happens. I might end up ambidextrous, who knows? Mind you, don’t be expecting fine art or lifelike portraits with my other hand anytime soon.