Greetings. Just now as I scrolled my blog at random as I like to do from time to time, I came across a pair of posts from successive days almost exactly two years ago.
It was kind of neat rereading, so naturally I thought I would like to share them with you again.
Please enjoy
Peace and love
‘I pause to rest when I feel the need’.
Makes sense, don’t you think? It is a really excellent affirmation to give oneself isn’t it? A wise piece of advice also. And I agree with you: great advice, sensible, logical, very helpful for anyone and everyone. Unfortunately, it’s not something I can honestly tell you that I practise on any kind of regular basis. It’s more likely that I would have to admit to you that:
‘I am always hurrying to get things done, and until I do, there’s no rest. Doesn’t matter how I feel’.
And it doesn’t seem to matter whether I have a lot to do, or only a little – or even if there’s nothing needing my attention. Whatever the situation, you will catch me in a hurry, going as fast as I can to get whatever there is, done. ASAP.
Okay, I admit it: I am exaggerating slightly. But not by much. Always rushing, always ‘getting ahead of myself’, always in a hurry. It’s been a problem for, well, forever really.
And I know I’m not alone. The world – as in society, economics, education, and the rest – is in a never-ending race to do whatever they do, and to get it done as quickly as possible, regardless of the cost to the planet and all of us who live on Her.
And, obviously, we are all caught up in this ‘race’, in pretty much every area of our lives.
Whether it’s an exercise program we set for ourselves, or which has been forced upon on us by advertising, cultural shaming, false identification with our bodies. Or the intense and all-pervading pressure to be ‘more productive’ at work. Or the newest mobile app that will magically make even our off-work lives more productive and (supposedly) give us that extra edge in the marketplace (whatever that means).
And remember school? High school? College? The night classes you took for fun and relaxation? How many classes began with the teacher giving the following little speech:
‘Now, we can really take our time with this class/course/semester, and we will be able to take as many breaks as we like. We have plenty of time to cover all the material. So, sit back, relax, take your time and enjoy.’
Not many I’m guessing.
Now, as a hermit, you might think I lead a quiet life. And it’s true: I do. Relatively speaking that is. All of us are required to be constantly taking some kind of action in order to maintain life.
Just like everyone else I have to do whatever it takes to just be alive: Cooking, eating, cleaning, laundry, shopping, praying, meditating, relating to loved ones as well as other people I encounter.
Then there’s reading, studying, talking (way too much in my own case), thinking. Well, that’s probably enough to be getting on with, I think.
Despite my hermit life, all these and more I do. And for me, it’s always in a rush and hurry. Well, not always perhaps, but too often for my liking, and way too often for my mental health, peace of mind and for the calm, peaceful like, I aspire to.
Whatever our personal lifestyle, or way of living, we are all in the same boat, so to speak.
Fix your mind of truth and be free from the concerns of the material world.
So, what to do? How can we slow down, get some sort of equilibrium or balance in our lives? How do we stop the rush, the panic, the pressures that besiege us and sometimes overwhelm us?
Well, there’s the problem. I won’t say I have no idea. I can’t say I don’t know. But, and here’s the point, while I can tell you how I am trying to do.If you’ve read what I’ve told you already, you will realise that whatever I try only works sometimes. And a very few sometimes’s at that.
Mindfullness
I try all the time to make everything I do, even if it’s just walking down the street, or washing the dishes, a prayer. Which is really simply another way to say that I try to do everything mindfully.
Sounds really simple when I put it like this, but of course it’s not at all. It takes discipline (I want to talk about this a little more later on). It’s about focusing on how you are interacting with the world around you, and obviously this starts with being fully mindful in each moment as you take action in the world, whatever it might be.
Simplify.
Not easy, I know. Life is full of details and complications. It’s full of conflicting priorities, each with their own sense of urgency and importance. The simple advice is to do what you can. Once again, tackle all the things you have to do one step/thing at a time.
Did you notice the italics? Be alert to the old urgent vs important dichotomy: not everything is of equal importance, regardless of appearances. Equally, we have to discern a thing’s or action’s degree of urgency for ourselves. With obvious exceptions, most things aren’t as urgent or immediate as they are presented.
Minimise.
Listen carefully to the commands to buy, buy, buy, and do, do, do that we are constantly being bombarded with from all direction. Ask yourself one of the big self enquiry questions: Do I really need … ?
Related to this is the question of how much money we actually need to have a good life, support our families, and so on. No guru, teacher, book, or anything else can help with this one; we are all different and have our own unique and specific needs. Only you can know what is right for you.
Discipline.
I mentioned this aspect of the solution to bringing a calmer, slower, less pressured vibe of equilibrium to our lives. For me (self-discipline is what we’re talking about here) is not only about willpower, though of course, it’s an important part of the picture. A quote from Bhagavad Gita that I think points us in a helpful direction:
What does it mean, ‘fix your mind on truth’? While it is very often an extremely difficult thing to do, fixing your mind on truth simply means keeping your mind (and consequently your body and heart too) focused on what is actually real, important, and meaningful to you. It means staying focused on what truly resonates with you as the way you wish to live your life.
So hard is this for me to do, that I am engaged in an ongoing project (please forgive the productivity cult lingo) to keep focused on what is true and real to me. To be honest, while I’m pretty sure that it does get easier with practise, I will always be refocusing on my truth. As they say, it comes with the job description for all of us human beings.
Now, about the second half of that Bhagavad Gita quote. If we do manage to reach that stage where we are able to focus on the meaningful and important, the truth for us, will all our troubles, problems, pressures, commitments of all kinds, just magically go away? Can we eliminate completely ‘the concerns of the material world’?
Absolutely not. The only thing that will potentially cease is our constant state of being stressed.
While the things we worry about now won’t disappear, the worry itself may lessen. Our abilities to function more effectively and happily in the world (in our family, our work, our own mind) will also improve. We really may become one of those people who always (or most of the time) take things in our stride.
But we should remember that the pressures, conflicts, health issues, the need to support ourselves and family, relationships with all their ups and downs, remain; they are part of the human condition; they are the natural order of things in this material world.
What we can do, is try as much as we can to control our minds, trying to remain focused on that which is true and meaningful to us.
Minimise, simplify as far as possible in all everything. We can focus on all that is true and meaningful in the life you are creating on an ongoing basis. And, of course, it is one considered and deliberate step at a time.
For Thoreau, going to live in the woods was the natural thing to do. It resonated with his soul and heart.
Of course going to live in the woods isn’t for everyone, but if it speaks to you; if it is in tune with your own truth and you feel it would give your life meaning, then why not?
All of us have within us our own ‘going to the woods’ equivalent. It might be anything. Go find it! Rest there.
The last words of this post are the same as the first. Actually as I think about it now, I see more clearly that this entire post with all its words and thoughts, might be summed up very nicely by that one small affirmative statement. Well, I might add three more words of my own:
In all things, I pause to rest whenever I feel the need.
Peace and love from me to you.
Greetings to you, visitors to the cave
Let me begin this post by asking you a question. No. I’ll start again: I’m going to begin this post by asking me a question. It’s a question prompted by prayers I recite every day, not only during my morning practice, but at random times during the day. Here goes with the question:
How much time do I spend discussing illusion, fear, and wrong thinking?
Well the short answer is, a lot! Despite all my efforts, prayers, meditation, discipline, and the rest, I spend way too much time pondering all kinds of illusions, indulging in an ever revolving range of fears, and thinking about all sorts of ridiculous, irrelevant, and unwanted stuff.
Oh, before I go on, I should mention that there are actually two prayers I’m referring to:
This prayer, which you might call an affirmation comes, I think, from the teachings of the ancient Indian Rishi Adi Shankara. I’ve not been able to track down the exact source. Getting a little ahead of ourselves here, but a perfect example of wrong thinking would be to berate myself for not being more careful with sources.
So, what does it mean to spend time discussing illusion, fear, and wrong thinking? Well, I know I said I was asking myself this question, but I think it would not be out of order to say that we are all prone to spending time on these things.
Discussing is obvious: talking about, thinking about, angsting over, worrying over. Illusion? Anything that isn’t real, stuff that’s ‘make believe’ as the expression goes. Anything that we are imagining for good or bad.
Our illusions are often about worst-case scenarios, or at the other end of the spectrum, they can be about some fantasy, an idealized perfect outcome to a situation. There is a lot written about how we are so very much trapped in illusion; it’s not the place here for that discussion.
Fears: pretty obvious what fears are. I don’t know about you, but I can get to thinking of stuff to be fearful of anytime, anywhere, even things I know I can face without fear. Like a couple of days ago I was walking across a rail and walking bridge near our current hermitage. A long time ago I had huge paralysing fears of high bridges, especially over water as this one is.
But for a long time now I’ve felt I have mastered this fear and then suddenly on this occasion I looked down to the river below and shocked myself with ‘What am I doing?’ type thinking and fear returned. Mind you, it passed quite quickly as I reminded myself I’d walked over this bridge (and many others) a lot of times without a second thought.
And then there are fears about the future, fears of consequences of past actions, fears of not making the right choices now, fears for health, loved ones, the world. Anything goes when it comes to fear doesn’t it?
Ah, now we get to the biggie: wrong thinking. Again I think it’s safe to say that we all spend far too much time in the company of wrong thoughts. And again, they can be about anything, and can pop up to take over our mind without warning.
Consider how often we think about things that are either none of our business, or they are things we can’t do anything about. We obsess over what we see on the news, or what celeb is doing what and with whom. Think about how interested we often are in what other people are doing, thinking, saying.
Then there’s blindly following fashion, thinking so much about things we don’t have (and how everyone except us has those things already) that we give into advertising, and end up buying lots of stuff we don’t need, maybe can’t afford, and might not ever use. And don’t forget about the one we all fall for: gossiping about others whether they are famous, our family or friends, or simply our neighbours.
A huge case of wrong thinking are the harsh judgements we make on ourselves; and the amount of time we spend thinking about our faults and failings. And don’t forget the other end of the ego spectrum: it’s also wrong thinking to be constantly telling ourselves how great we are.
There are endless examples of wrong thinking. We need to bear in mind Buddha’s central teachings: there is a middle path that can be taken in all things. Well, this maxim applies to thinking as well. Remember that our mind can be our enemy or our friend.
Even enlightened ones such as sages, rishis, saints and the like, fall victim to illusion, fears, and wrong thinking. Of course as they are enlightened, they perhaps are less affected, less inclined to fall to the depths, as the rest of us might.
Of course, there are ways we can put ourselves on the path to that enlightenment. But in truth, it is a subject that is dealt with very adequately by all great scriptures of the world, not to mention the visionaries who have delved deeply into psychology, philosophy, and the human condition.
And this leads me to the second prayer:
This one comes from a song by George Harrison, titled Just for Today. I actually did a post on this song a couple of years ago that you can find here. As well, if you do check out the lyrics of this masterpiece, you will see that my prayer is a rather generous paraphrase. I don’t think George would mind; I hope you don’t either.
Just for Today (the song and, a little less articulately, this, my paraphrased prayer) is a prayer for presence, a plea to be in this place, and in this time. In other words, an affirmation that I (or you) may remember that there is only here, and only now.
But, and it’s a big big but, we need to make of our entire lives a prayer.
Of course that means using the words, but it also requires a whole lot more. Discipline, self-control, deliberate actions (saying prayers is obviously also an action), meditation, silence, contemplation, and to put it simply: good behaviour in all that we do and think.
Now, this prayer inspired by George is a good place to finish. Or rather, it’s a good place to remind ourselves we can’t solve all life’s problems at once.
Being present, being here and now, really says we have no other choice but to live through this day only. Or perhaps we can paraphrase once more and say we have to actually realise what is already true: we can only live through this one, ever-evolving and moving moment.
So, how do we get to that point of spending less time discussing illusion, fears, and wrong thinking? By coming to realise that being in this moment, and in this place, we are already perfectly fine. All we can and need to do is remember that one simple fact. But don’t worry, all you need to do is remember it just for today.
peace and love
Last night I had a dream. Of course there’s nothing unusual in that: I dream every night, every time I sleep (and sometimes when I’m supposed to be meditating as well). Actually I’m no different than probably every other living being in the Universe: I dream when I sleep.
No. The particular dream isn’t my point here (though we’ll be discussing it soon enough). What makes it worth noting is the fact that last evening, before going to bed, I watched a documentary on Carl Jung and The Red Book.
Jung compiled The Red Book at a time of personal crisis and distress. Using dream analysis, his own imagination, and intense self reflection, he used both paintings and text to express what he saw and understood from these practices. Hauntingly beautiful, other worldly pictures depicting dream images, archetypes, both personal and universal, helped him delve deeply into his unconscious mind and the collective unconscious.
I gave up trying to interpret dreams a long long time ago. Don’t ask me why: I probably couldn’t say. Most likely something to do with a kind of wariness about going too much into where the mind wants to take me, and my sense that the “dream” doesn’t stop when we wake up.
Still, watching this doco prompted a lot of discussion with my partner hermit, and a lot of thinking on my part. The mind is not our enemy, though sometimes I feel that it is. Well, it can be the enemy if we allow it, but equally we can allow the mind to be our friend. After all, what activity of any kind is possible in the world without mind?
So, with that in mind (get it? in mind?) I will share with you that above mentioned dream from last night.
In the dream I was in a small kitchen, making tea. I’d put on a kettle to boil. A very large, heavy kettle, probably three or four times the size of a normal one. I was in the process of looking for a mug or cup, and just as I picked one up that I liked the look of, a crowd of five or six people came bustling noisily into this very crowded space.
‘I’ve just put the kettle on,’ I called loudly over the din. As it happened I’d filled the kettle almost to overflowing, much more than I needed for myself alone.
‘There’s plenty of boiling water to go round.’
Then I busied myself looking for something (a tea bag perhaps?), and when I finally turned back to the kettle to make my tea, I saw it was gone. I was very unhappy with this disappearance: After all, I was the one who had filled the kettle and put it on to boil. Then without a thought or a, what’s the expression? without a by your leave, it’s all gone, nothing left for me. Not only no more water, but nothing to boil more with.
I looked everywhere, even outside the kitchen. Outside was a camp ground and apartment complex, where I (and presumably all the other people) was staying.
Anyway, that’s it. All I remember at least. So, the meaning? Was I merely processing trivial facts and events from my day in this strange fashion? Or was I in touch with the deepest part of my psyche and with the collective unconscious? Possibly a bit of both.
It’s not a big job to make a guess about the meaning. I had a plentiful supply of water (or whatever), and without thought, put the needs of others before my own. But then, I actively resented what had been ‘taken from me’, even though I had freely given it in the first place.
So, the message I take from this dream? Just as I’ve been studying lately, the fruits of my actions are not my responsibility. I have no say over what, if anything, will happen as a result of actions I take. All I am responsible for is the taking of the action itself, the manner in which I undertake it, and the attitude with which I approach the actions I take. That’s it. That’s all I can do. The rest is up to the laws of the universe. Call it Karma, or Natural Law.
Another idea just occured to me: When I take action (like boiling the kettle) and then serve others, I am serving Self, all life, everyone and everything. And obviously that includes me. I’m not suggesting I should have made sure ahead of time that I’d ‘reserved’ enough water for myself, but at the same time …
I might keep this dream analysis thing as practice to practise occasionally, when the inclination or inspiration is there. No more blocking memories of dreams, no more stubborn refusal to reflect on dreams. After all, I spend a lot of time contemplating and reflecting on what I do in my waking life, how is it any different just because it happens while I’m asleep?
Namaste and greetings
Yesterday I came across a couple of stories – true ones – that I wrote years ago. They are what we might loosely call ‘travellers’ tales. I thought it might be nice to share them here. So here’s the first one. Enjoy
I’d walked up to Old Manali, and I’d kept walking through the town. Then higher still, past the temple to Manu, and the scattering of traditional houses and small fields clustered around the temple.
Three near-naked and stoned saddhus invited me into their cave – more a kind of overhanging rock shelf poking out from the foundations of the temple itself.
Naturally I declined. Politely. I wasn’t, never had been, and never shall be a stoner. Besides, here I was deep in the Himalayas walking through ancient villages and past temples to ancient gods. Seems to me that that’s enough to bring on a high all its own and like no other.
Then, a little higher up the trail. I rounded a corner to be greeted by a kind of open forest glade; a grassed and flowered field protected by a semi circle of forest sentinels, their crowns maybe thirty metres above my head.
And there, in the middle of this magic field, a large flat rocky area, like a series of ‘shelves’ layered one on the other. This maybe twenty square metre tiered platform was probably the remnants of an ancient hill (or mountain?) that got in the way of a more recent but clearly relentless glacier.
Whatever the history, here was an arena with views no theatre or movie could ever hope to reproduce. This natural amphitheatre faced several layers of peaks across the valley. But, before those peaks, and directly in front of me, just down the slope, stood the temple, then more trees, reaching down into the valley. Here the river flowed, surrounded by farmers’ fields and the brown dots of houses.
Then the forests begin again, thick at the bottom in the valley, but becoming more scattered on the higher ground. Then those many layers of higher and higher hills, mountains really, rolling off into the distance to, where on the horizon and behind it all, a row of the really high peaks covered in their permanent snows.
‘This is a special place, a sacred place,’ I heard myself sigh out loud. Sitting cross-legged now, I let my eyes wander over the scene taking in the blue sky, the white peaks, the multiple greens of the forests, the sliver ribbon of the river, and the rest.
At such times and in such places, one’s eyes tend to close of their own accord. And so it was for me then and there. I let myself drift. Thoughts came and went, to be replaced by more thoughts that came and went.
Then, my eyes opened. Again of their own accord. After a few seconds of that cliched ‘where am I?’ feeling one has when startled out of one state and into another, I made out the figure of a person standing facing me a few metres from where I sat.
‘I’m sorry,’ I heard her voice call to me. ‘You just looked so peaceful sitting there meditating, I just had to stop and watch you.’
She told me she’s been watching me for about fifteen minutes, which gave me a start: It’d felt l Ike I’d only just sat down and closed my eyes.
‘They say the light of the world is held about twelve kilometres up this trail. That means it’s the centre of the world.’
I had to stand to try to take in a revelation of this magnitude.
‘And apparently,’ she went on, ‘they’re going to move it soon and nobody knows where.’
Was she an angel? Was I dreaming? They, whoever they were, are about to shift the centre of the world? Even in India one doesn’t hear this kind of news everyday. Actually, I doubt you’d ever hear it on any day.
Then she was gone, headed up the trail. I didn’t follow. I remember thinking: twelve kilometres was too far for me especially as I already had a long walk downhill to my hotel back down in the new town.
Yes, mundane, practical musings, a typical response to news of such a wild and far-out nature. So, not exactly in shock, yet not quite myself, I turned back. Down. Through the village, past the temple with three crashed out saddhus out front, back into the town.
There are cafes there. They sell Chai there. I needed one.
Actually, given the momentous news I was going to have to digest, I might even have a couple extras.
This is a true story; it actually happened more or less the way it’s described here.
Of course, there is no ‘light of the world’ stored in some secret spot, somewhere on Earth.
Well, I suppose if there is a light of the world, then it’s likely to be the world itself, I mean Earth, all the beings who live on this planet. Life itself I guess you could say. Life is light; Life is love.
Peace
THE BEGINNING OF DEVOTION
Attention, paying attention.
It’s the beginning of devotion.
And when you see? When there is seeing?
Well, seeing is praise.
When we see, what we see,
is God.
Not the god, or this or that god.
There aren’t lots of gods,
or so it seems.
And in the end, there isn’t even one god:
there is only God.
So it was said by the sages.
About a year or so ago I stopped keeping a journal. And, when I say stopped keeping, I mean keep as in both senses of the word. Let me explain.
I began writing my life in a journal in my teens. I stopped for a while in my late teens and early twenties, then later in my twenties, took to it again. I then kept my Journal going ever since. That is, until last year.
Of course, some periods saw a more intense, even daily journal keeping. And then there were periods where the journal only saw me every now and again. On the whole though, I’d been completely dedicated to my Journal for more than 40 years.
So, why suddenly end it? What prompted me to just stop keeping it – again in both senses of the word – after almost a lifetime committed to it?
Yes. A good, good question. First of all, it wasn’t a sudden decision; I didn’t ‘just stop’. For some time I hadn’t been feeling quite so committed, quite as excited about keeping a journal (as in using it to write my feelings, ideas, and essentially my life). And, just as with so many of the decisions we make thoughout our lives, this one had a practical, even a pragmatic ‘seed’ as well:
See the picture above? That’s my journal. The rest of the Old blue tin trunk would get itself filled with all kinds of stuff not needed on rhe road. The trunk lived with my cousin for a few years, then it was my sister’s turn; she had it on and off for many years.
As you are no doubt beginning to guess, this arrangement began to wear thin. We (the hermit pilgrims) were constantly asking ourselves, what’s the point of storing this stuff for years? Do we really need it?
My answer had always been yes. I needed my journal. I might read it again someday; I might need it to write books or whatever. So, we’d keep the trunk, filling the remaining space with stuff and things.
Then, on the penultimate occasion we had the old blue tin trunk shipped to us in our latest (then) current roadside cave, I looked at it, and thought: What’s the point?
Somehow the attachment – the compulsion to hold onto my Journal – had gone. It was a liberation, a freeing of my mind. I suddenly realised that the prospect of me ever rereading the thing, or needing it for some other purpose, was remote. Actually such a prospect was also extremely unappealing.
I should add here that that particular aversion and disinterest in rereading my journal, seemed to cement my already growing disinterest in keeping a journal in that sense I mentioned earlier of writing down feelings, ideas and so on. Now, both the idea of keeping the journal in the sense of storing the physical volumes for a rainy day, and that need to keep a journal by constantly writing my life, collided. Time to stop keeping!
So, I sat and leafed through every volume, more as a kind of farewell ritual than anything else. I did ‘rescue’ the odd bit and piece, most of which have since gone the way of their host volumes. Then I simply set the lot on its way to oblivion.
I mentioned that this whole chain of events happened on our penultimate reunification with the old blue trunk; what about the ultimate time? Well, we’d kept it full of various pieces of art by both of us; with various household things; ornaments; and other stuff I can’t remember.
Repacking it to ship back to my sister’s as we got ready to move on from that particular cave, we both just said, let’s leave it all behind.To cut a long story short, that’s exactly what we did. My son, a couple of charity shops, and the house we’d been sheltering in, were all recipients of the last of the contents of that old blue trunk – and the blue trunk itself.
Now, do I miss my journal? Well yes and no.
No I don’t miss having the thing as in owning it. Or maybe it’s better to say I don’t miss always having it in storage and out of reach the great majority of time. Like I said, I went completely off the idea of holding onto it – keeping it – just in case someday I might want to read it all again or use to for research. Now I think, why would I ever want to do that? (okay, I think I might have already said that)
The yes is kind of qualified. Yes, I miss writing in it. Yes I miss having a vehicle for expressing feelings, thoughts, and ideas.
I say that this yes is qualified because while I say this to myself from time to time, I don’t actually seem to ever really feel it. So perhaps it’s less a yes and no than it is an unequivocal no.
Besides if I have the urge to write, to put pen to paper, fingers to keyboard, then there’s nothing to stop me.
After all, that’s precisely what I’m doing now isn’t it?
Most likely I’m not alone when I say that when first listening to new information, a lecture, teachings or anything else for that matter, I will often forget either part of what I’m trying to learn or even all of it. In fact, I’m sure there are more than a few scholarly research papers that will tell us all about this universal phenomena with all facts and figures along with all the whys and wherefores.
Anyway, I was listening to my teacher ( Swami Tadatmananda) recently. He summarized the teachings he was giving on that occasion in three succinct, pithy lines. Thinking back now, I have no memory of the teachings being presented, and all I have is a quick note jotted down of the teacher’s summary:
Do your duty
Follow Dharma
Live a righteous life.
Fast forward a couple of days and I was watching a video about 19th Century English poets. Once again I’m not able to tell you the names of all those poets or what the show was about (actually to be honest, I got bored and stopped watching half way).
And, again, all that remains is a scribbled note about the pioneering of a particular rhyming scheme by one of the featured poets.
That revolutionary rhyming scheme is ABBA (where the first line of a verse rhymes with the fourth, and the middle two rhyme with each other). It’s as well that I did jot down a note: I have never been able to take in, much less retain in memory, all the technical stuff to do with poetics. Never.
But for some reason this particular idea appealed to me. Maybe it’s to do with how I was once a big fan of the Swedish pop group Abba? (okay, maybe I still am)
As it happens, my note on this appears in my notebook just below the first one I mentioned above. So, as I thought about ABBA (the rhyming scheme, not the pop group), I saw that first note and started playing with it:
Do your duty
Follow Dharma
Earn good Karma
Do nothing naughty
Okay, I know, it’s not exactly great literature is it? Never mind; it’s only an experiment. But, having said that, I do quite like this little, what shall we call it? This little ditty. It seems to be a nice, even quirky, little rephrasing of my teacher’s own summary.
This is all very well and good you might think, but what does it all mean? Does it actually mean anything? Well, my short answer is yes: for me it does indeed definitely mean something.
Actually, it means a lot. But as this post seems to be dragging on a bit, perhaps we will have to continue in another post.
Meanwhile, be blessed
Vibing on the mystic trees,
their upside is downside, their downside is upside
selves telling me:
You’ve got to cut through the attachments.
Then, not a new, but old made new again, insight
confirms, clarifies, brings details to,
shines a light on the specifics:
Stop desiring what you already have.
By the River’s Light
I’ll Live My Life
out of sight of Babylon
A Note From Me: I can’t tell you who wrote these words. Maybe I did; maybe it’s a song lyric; or maybe it’s a quote from someone famous. Whatever the case, a half hour internet search failed to come up with anything even close. So, The best I can do is thank whoever did bring these beautiful words into the world. I hope you are pleased with how I’ve made use of them.
Notes from the Hermit's Cave 