A Story of a Door

The walk from the Hermitage to the coffee shop at the Village Green takes around five minutes or so. This morning, noticing a pause in the rain, we thought we might take the opportunity to get some fresh air and a walk, at the end of which there would be coffee. So, we stepped bravely forward, with the faith that the gods of the rain were indeed taking a break.

‘Look over there, ‘ said my partner hermit as we passed through the centre of the village. ‘There’s a door that can only be opened from the inside.’

‘I’ve never noticed that before,’ I replied, looking across the street to a wall into which was set a door with no visible handles or lock. The only things that suggested that it was in fact a door were the hinges on one side, as well as its size and shape.

Now don’t ask me how many times I’d passed that spot. Most likely dozens of times, on both sides of the road. Still, now that I had been shown it, I was intrigued. Mentally I was captured: I thought, what a wonderful thing: the one or ones on the other side of the door have complete control over who or what is allowed to enter.

With such a door, one that only opens from your side, you could easily choose to rarely – or even never – open it. Ah, peace at last went my thoughts.

But, right away, those thoughts were dismissed, sent packing: too simplistic, too extreme, to heavy a response. Though, you know, I do feel strongly that such a response to the world – shutting it all out completely – is perfectly understandable, completely reasonable, and oftentimes even an absolute necessity .

Still, I had that feeling towards my reactive thoughts of ‘too extreme’ (inner editor’s note: he has no idea what he’s saying does he? If you ask me, right this minute he will be thinking his initial reaction was spot on and he’d love to have a door like that. Anyway, we’ll let him have it his way).

Some further, more careful thought is required here I think. For a start, here’s a question: If I were to keep the door shut all the time, how would I ever be able to allow my own light, my own love, my own Self, out into the world?

Maybe there’s a way to keep the door open sometimes, then at other times choose to keep it closed to bar access to unwanted intruders in the form of people, thoughts, events, emotions and so on.

After all, it is my door (in this little fantasy at least), the door to the inside, where resides the ‘real’ me, the Self within, beyond and above, the physical form that I so tenaciously cling to as as being the real me. Talk about attachment!

Perhaps slightly exagerated, but this is close to how I see my actual door working as distinct from the story I’m telling in this post.

Where was I? Oh yes. With that door that opens only from the inside, I might come – eventually – to realise that there is nothing to disturb me – unless I open the door and let whoever or whatever that is unwanted, through the door.

I am my own gatekeeper, and without my consent my gate (door) cannot be opened and entered.

And, getting back to the choices I am able to make to sometimes open the door to allow some light and love to flow out from me, out the door and into the world. The more I’m able to discern when, and for how long, to open the door as a way to control what comes in, to what can reach me, the more resources of said love and light I shall be able to build up.

Which, in turn, will lead to more and more opportunities I’ll have to open the door in order to share some of that good.

I can envisage a state reached where my door could quite possibly be left to stand ajar all the time.

You see, the more love and light pouring out, the less that disturbs me can get in. Love and light is transforming, isn’t it?

Yes. Now I’ve noticed – recognised – the door that can only be opened from the inside: It’s me! Now, where did I leave my door keys?

What Will Please You Lord? A Prayer Contemplated

Namaste my friends

In my last post I reflected upon the meaning for me personally of a Bhagavad Gita verse that had particularly struck me as I carried on with my renewed inspiration to read the text from the beginning.

Today, I didn’t even get to the place where my reading left off yesterday. Before reading I like to pray some or all the prayers I have pasted in the front (and the back now). As I was deep into this practice, one prayer in particular stopped me, just as with that verse yesterday.

This one seemed to speak to me, asking ‘What do I mean to you?’ So, I made a mental note (always a risky proposition with me), and carried on with my prayers, determined to take time later to think about that prayer, and try to answer its question. So, here I am, later in the day, making these notes.

The prayer itself I am fairly sure comes from Thomas Merton, monk, mystic, and writer. Not completely sure, but I know that whoever composed it was one clearly inclined towards living the life of the mystic.

What will please you Lord?
Let me grow in wisdom,
become purified,
and do your will.

For whoever composed this prayer, it is an expression of a genuine longing. I can say that for me it is a deep plea, expresses my own longing. Each time I recite it, in fact, I can say that, although this is the first time I’ve addressed the big what does it mean question, I do sense the longing and grasp the meanings of the various words and ideas in the prayer. Actually, now I think about it, I do say this prayer or parts thereof in one form or another very often.

What will please you Lord?

When I begin to pray these words, what I feel I am actually doing is asking the Universe, the Divine, Self, God – the I AM – how can I live my life so that it is attuned to the natural order and flow of the Universe.

I am asking, what do I need to do to let go of attachments to worldly things which arise from material desires? How do I find the grace to accept when things aren’t going completely my way?

In other words, I’m asking how can i live a good, truthful, happy life in harmony with all other beings and with the Universe.

Let me grow in wisdom

Another of my prayer pages. This one devoted to Maa Saraswati, goddess of, among other things, wisdom

A good place to start, a great first step. But, again I have to ask myself, what does growing in wisdom mean to me?

To me wisdom is not merely knowledge. Though, having said that wisdom needs to rest on a firm foundation of knowledge, otherwise what’s there to be ‘wise’ about?

I’m not talking about worldly knowledge here, though obviously it takes some degree of knowledge for any of us to live in the world. Also it’s relevant to the next part of our prayer; we’ll see that soon.

I’m referring instead to a special kind of knowledge that will (I pray) lead me somewhere closer to acquiring some degree of wisdom – one day.

Self-knowledge is what I’m getting at. And I go about my attempt to obtain self-knowledge in a couple of different ways. I study, sacred texts like the Bhagavad Gita, as well as the words of those wiser than me (which is rather a large selection of people I can tell you) both living and historical.

I meditate (not nearly enough!) as a way to enquire into my own ‘real’ or true nature: who am I? what am I? Just digging deep within to reach some realisation of the answers to those questions.

When I have answered those questions, I will understand that I have reached a true level of self-knowledge. I sense that, at least being on the path to that realisation, I would never be able to develop any level of wisdom.

Mind you, I do feel that all humans are born with some degree of wisdom potential ‘built in’ so to say. As for me, I don’t feel especially wise just yet.

Become purified

For me, becoming purified goes hand in hand with the cultivation of wisdom. In fact I would say that in the very efforts to become purified, it might be possible for me to develop some wisdom as a result of those efforts.

So, here we go again: What does it mean? To become purified? For me it means living a Dharmic life. By Dharmic I mean a life steered and driven by Truth, Right Living, Right Speech, Right Conduct , Right … The Buddha taught The Noble Eightfold Path. That is in my opinion the very best, topmost, pinnacle of self directed means to living a Dharmic or purified life.

The Eightfold Path is not a set of dogmas, rules, or anything like a list of commandments or instructions . The eight steps are merely signposts, a roadmap, pointers for me to follow in order to purify my life, live a Dharmic life. No behaviours are prescribed: it’s entirely my choice what forms my behaviour, actions, and the rest take.

Obviously the path to becoming purified is a life-long one, though some would say that many lifetimes are required. Personally, I can’t even hint that I might be anywhere near close; some days I feel further away than ever.

But, as I work towards ‘growing in wisdom, with the help of my becoming purified path, I pray that some day I might actually learn what I call proper discernment.

This discernment is the ability to act in the world and to react to the joys and sorrows that are inevitable, with compassion, love, and wisdom. To face those inevitabilities with calm and equanimity. Acting with proper discernment will mean that I am living in Truth.

… and do your will

As I reread the words I’ve just written, I realise that, by the time I reach the state described in that last paragraph, I will have succeeded in ‘doing your will.
I will have aligned my self perfectly with the order of the Universe. I will know my place as a tiny fragment of that very order.

If I’m honest however, I have to say that I think it’s going to be a very very long time before such a state come to pass. So, what to do in the meantime?

Well, along with my attempts to live Dharmically, and to cultivate wisdom, I have committed myself to a life of devotion. Devotion, prayer, contemplation.

Devotion to what? To whom?

To the Universe, Divinity, God; all that is represented by all those names we humans have put on the Absolute Reality, that is all there is.

Everything. And everybody, is what I’m saying. There really is no separation except a kind of superficial one we allow ourselves to imagine by applying so many names and forms to the material objects, things and so on, that appear to us as separate one from another, whereas there is in fact only one, without a second.

That’s where the contemplation comes in. It’s a going within, inward to what we imagine is a kind of ‘space’ where all merges into one, the one that is all there is.

I think that’s what ‘pleases the Lord’. While I am indescribably, gravely, deficient at all the steps described above, one course I know to be right for me is to continue to engage with those steps, and to devote myself and my life to the Divine, to the Truth.

That’s what pleases me. I pray that it pleases the Lord.

Friend Or Foe?

Your enemies will now question your capabilities. Is there anything more painful and shameful than that?

Bhagavad Gita 2:36

Thanks to inspiration from my partner hermit, I’ve once again begun reading Bhagavad Gita from the beginning. The quoted verse came up this morning as I continued through chapter 2.

Setting the scene, the Bhagavad Gita is a conversation between Krishna (God) and Arjuna, a famous warrior who’s leading the army of the ‘good guys’. The context is actually a metaphor for the battle that goes on constantly between what some call the Higher Self (represented by Krishna of course), and our lower selves, our ego, mind, and the rest of the worldly us (represented by the very worldly Arjuna).

Knowing that, sometimes a verse will jump out at me as being in some direct way related to me. This verse, this morning seemed spookily all knowing about my mood of just slightly earlier.

Before we move on, I should point out that Arjuna has just realised that if the battle goes ahead, he’s going to have to kill many relatives and friends, teachers, and others he respects. And he’s just decided he’s not going to do it and sits down depressed and dejected on his chariot.

Now while I personally applaud this decision (he even says it might be better if he went off into the forest and lived the life of a wandering monk rather than be in this battle), I have to remind myself that it’s not for real, it’s a metaphor for the battle between our two selves.

Krishna says to Arjuna that you’re going to look really bad if you don’t fight the fight to uphold the Truth as you know it. Lesson number one when studying the Gita: don’t sweat the context!

Anyway, to our current story.

I’d just finished my breakfast cup of tea, and I knew it was time to ‘get on with the day’ as the saying goes. Today, though, Tamas** was strong. Which left me feeling, I don’t really want to get on with the day.

Instead I felt I wanted to not get on with anything; I wanted to lie down and sleep, and not think about anything, or do anything else either!

This picture is called Lunchtime Sleeper but it’s how I felt after breakfast this morning!

Mind you, not in the ’empty your mind of random thoughts, relax the body, realise the Divine’ kind of mood. No, more like ‘lay down, block out everything, blank the mind, sleep.’ Blank as it blot out!

Then, the famous second thought kicks in: No, I said to myself. I will not allow Tamas to take control. So, I got up, brushed my teeth, washed my face, and got ready to begin my practice.

I guess you could say that Tamas finds it easy to take control when one’s mind is in enemy mode as I like to call it (somewhere else in the Gita, Krishna says the mind can be our friend or our enemy).

My mind in particular doesn’t usually need a lot of help to disparage me, put me down. Getting me to question my own capabilities is one of its favourite activities – sometimes.

And it’s exactly right, perhaps I should be questioning myself: If I allow Tamas (mind and ego etc) to have free rein, the pain and the shame is all I feel. Well, perhaps not all, and not always, but still, it’s not a good thing.

So, what’s going on now? I’ve been reading Bhagavad Gita, and now I’m making these notes. Tamas is on the run and my mind is being ever so friendly.

**Tamas is that aspect of our (human) nature that has us leaning towards lethargy, laziness, that ‘I can’t be bothered’ feeling, and excess sleep, and all the other slothful stuff. Blotting out, as I termed it earlier.

The Hermits Visit a Coffee Shop

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.

Out Beyond Capricorn: Poetic Offering

Namaste and greetings

It’s been just over a week now since the new page on the blog went live. I have to say that it’s been very satisfying setting it up, then uploading some of my devotional poems.

Actually, it was while uploading one yesterday that I thought, I’ll feature this one in its own post. I did mention that I would like to continue this occasional practice.

There’s not too much to say about this particular poem really – best to leave it to speak for itself.  I’m only introducing it like this because I wanted to include a Wikipedia link that might help clarity a couple of the terms and some of the details mentioned in the poem.

The poem speaks about the concept of Viakuntha, which as you’ll see is the supreme heaven for some Indian traditions. The link leads to an interesting and short read, well worth the time I think.

The myth of Vaikuntha was a trigger for this poem, as was the meaning of the word itself. Is it a real place? Who knows. Fact and truth don’t always agree, and as for me, I don’t think about the question.

Myth has been the way we humans have always used to tell our story. To try to sort out the big questions: where are we from? Who are we? Where are we going? All the ‘big questions’ are addressed by mythologies from every culture – every family, country, you name it – on Earth.

In any case I think that my poem came about as a result of my own contemplation on the story, on those big questions, on Self really.

I hope you will visit my Poems of Devotion page. I’m still adding poems to the page, and of course, with grace, I will continue to write.

Now, please enjoy reading my poem, and I hope it’s a nice experience for you.

Love and Peace
Paul the hermit

OUT BEYOND CAPRICORN & DEEP WITHIN EACH HEART

Vaikuntha: Without anxiety.
Is there such a place? Free from worry?
Out there, they say, beyond Capricorn.
There’ll you’ll find the highest heaven,
the abode of God.

No need to look to the stars:
Vaikuntha is here. Vaikuntha is now.
Within and without you.

Vaikuntha is indeed beyond;
beyond the material world,
beyond the realm of bodies and minds;
beyond the illusions of places and spaces.
Atma – Universal Consciousness – you and me,
that’s Vaikuntha.
You and me, all there is. No anxiety

Realisation of Reality; It started With a Joke

‘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

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

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

Let’s Talk

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

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.