Category Archives: spiritual search

All I Can Afford is a Loving Heart

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Our post today is closely related to our last one. In fact, so close is the relationship, we can call them sibling posts, even twins.

Anyway to begin, I’d like to share one verse from a song I’ve loved and not loved for years. The song’s called You’re Just a Country Boy by Alison Krauss:

Never could afford a store bought ring
with a sparklin’ diamond stone.
All you can afford is a loving heart,
the only thing you own.

It’s easy to start disliking this song right from reading the title: ‘Just‘? As in only? As in ‘Is that all you are?’. And ‘country boy’? What’s wrong with people – of whatever age or gender – who come from rural areas?

But, there is some to love as well: The lyrics are clever (cleverer than I’d thought, as you will see soon); the singer has a lovely and skilled voice that I like a lot; and there is a generally relaxed, easy listening kind of vibe to the whole tune.

Still, there is more to dislike: The song is addressed to said country boy, perhaps as well meant advice from a friend who is trying to let the country boy down easy as they say. ‘Get real my friend,’ she seems to be saying. ‘You have nothing that anyone wants. You’re poor, you’re from the country, and no way will anyone ever want you.’

The lyrics are like an affirmation or confirmation of what we know already: the world turns on material objects and money, and you aren’t anyone or going anywhere if you don’t have that stuff.

But, then on the other hand, there is much more to love. And this verse kind of sums it up. For the first time today, rereading the lyrics as I ate my lunch, I finally got it: it’s IRONY!

‘What?’ the lyrics seem to say. ‘You mean to say that the only thing you own is a loving heart? What use is that for goodness sake? Nobody wants that. Everyone wants money, jewels, and other material things’.

Well, I think I’d actually gotten it already; it’s just (there’s that troublesome little word again) that today is the first time the word itself came to mind. How ironic to come to the realisation of the irony of this song after all this time?

I like the use of the word afford. Clearly our country boy is broke, has no money, little material worth, and being a ‘country boy’ he obviously has limited prospects.

The irony is, of course, obvious: if one has a loving heart (or an awakened heart as we reflected on in our last post), what else do they need to be able to afford?

Our friend has most likely earned his loving heart over and over again anyway as he’s lived his life with its inevitable trials, tribulations, joys and sorrows. Riches galore right there. Afford? Of what value are material riches when one already possesses the most valuable asset to which a human being can aspire – a loving heart?

Just thought I’d look up the lyrics to another song I also quote from quite often. It’s also about that ‘all I have’ idea. The song is Words by the Bee Gees. These two lines I like:

It’s only words and words are all I have
to take away your heart

Or, as I might reinterpret it: ‘I know these are only words, but they’re all I’ve got to try to speak to your heart from my heart’.

If I’m to dig deep, be honest, and all that, I would have to say that this idea has been a major guiding force in and for my life in one way or another – whether I’ve been conscious of it or not. As has been aspiring to a loving heart, though that aspiration has at times been bogged down in the mire of the mess of life.

Words are good and sacred, and I’ve always seemed to have a lot of them (it’s not the words that are at fault, it’s the one who uses or abuses them). Really, as I think about it now, all I want is to continue using them – words – to express what’s in this (aspirational) loving heart.

All I can afford is a loving heart.

PS Now I’ve actually truly and really seen the irony in the lyrics, maybe I don’t have to dislike this song quite so much

How Shall I Live?

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Thomas Merton in his hermitage (Courtesy Wikipedia)

The great study of the monk is to have an awakened heart

      Thomas Merton

      

There would be some – including me – who would say that all human beings, and not just monks, need to learn to awaken their hearts, to cultivate attitudes and a life of love, compassion, empathy, and kindness.

Who would disagree with such a suggestion?

Well, I’ve already said that I am one of the ‘some’ who would welcome such an evolution in human consciousness. But, at the same time, I don’t want to make pronouncements, form judgements, hold opinions, on what anybody should do, or be like. Only me. I am only responsible for my own behaviours, attitudes, ideas, thoughts, speech, and the rest of how to live my life. I just can’t – as in I’m not entitled – to tell anyone else what to do, what to think, what to say and so on.

Actually I’d even speculate that Merton is in fact talking about just the one monk: himself; he’s not preaching a prescription for the behaviour  of others.

I’ve read so much Merton that it’s impossible now for me to remember exactly where I read this statement of his, but I do know that when I first saw it and made a note, the concept resonated deeply for me as a great aspiration for my own life as a monk, and as a trying to be decent human being.

In other words, this monk – me, myself, and I – has a task to carry on with: to cultivate an awakened heart. And being a ‘great study’ it’s bound to be at least a lifetime’s project.

It’s an effort though, awakening one’s heart. It’s even a bit of a mystery at times what the phrase actually means in real terms.

Love, obviously, tops the list for any aspirant on the awakened heart path. And, yes, I do feel, express, and act out love – so deeply sometimes to the point of being overwhelmed or ‘flooded’; sometimes speechless (that’s the good bit), sometimes full of words.

But then there are times (oftentimes is the word) when that love is clouded or shrouded completely by angers and irritations, by regrets of what should be or shouldn’t be, could be or cant’t be, what isn’t.

The great study of the monk is to have an awakened heart
          Thomas Merton

All attachments to what is not as I think it should be. All barriers to love. All ways and means of keeping the heart asleep – or at best semi-awake, and still sleepy: slow to respond, slow to act, and with ongoing blockages to seeing how things actually are.

The quest to acquire an awakened heart and the outpourings of love, kindness, gentleness, generosity, that such a state would allow, is probably at the root, the foundation, of my life as a hermit monk, of my life as a pilgrim journeying through and to Self.

Living quietly and simply; developing a contemplative way of being in the world while definitely being not of the world; cultivating silence, peace and calm; all are activities and attitudes directed at cultivating an awakened heart.

All that generosity, patience, love, kindness, empathy, and all the rest are definitely all characteristics of an awakened heart. Here’s my dilemma  (only one among many that riddle my crazy monkey mind): they are also precisely the elements that need to be practised in order for one to acquire an awakened heart. What’s the expression? Catch 22?

Of course, it just occurs to me now, everything that is, is exactly as it’s meant to be, happening just as it ‘should’. So, in other words, all these words of reflection are simply a commentary on what has been and gone already, that which is in the past, and is no longer existing.

All that matters – all that exists – now is that at this moment, in its ongoingness, I am as loving, as kind, as patient, and as generous (not to forget compassionate, empathetic) as I’m able. To others obviously, as well as to myself.

All that wonderful list of characteristics of an awakened heart all exist right now within me. Perhaps I need to wake up my mind a bit more so I might see that reality. Then I might actually realise that I already have an awakened heart and that I simply got forgetful somewhere along the way.

with love
Paul the Hermit

Flee, Be Silent, Pray Always: A Revisit

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Courtesy Wikipedia

Recently I came across the story of Abba Arsenius – one of the early Christian desert fathers. I’d originally written about him a year ago in what became a short series of posts.

Coming across him and his story again prompted me to revisit those posts – the first of which you can read here – and I reread them again, though as if for the first time. Anyway, here’s a short recap before we move on.

Arsenius was a high ranking official for the Roman Empire, working for many years as a tutor to the sons of the Emperor.

Over time he grew tired of the glamour lifestyle, the politics, corruption and court intrigues, and looked for a way to free himself from the whole material trap he was in.

So he prayed, ceaselessly, the story goes. He prayed for salvation, for freedom.

And, in time the answer, according to the story came in just a few words:

Flee, be silent, and pray always.

And he did. Flee I mean. He headed for the Egyptian deserts which is where he found that silence, and the space, peace, and calm to fulfil  his desire to be praying constantly. And, with some comings and goings, ups and downs, he stayed for the rest of his life.

Now, while Arsenius and his story are fascinating (in fact now I’ve rediscovered him, I’m going to look around  for a biography or something  so I can learn more), what I want to think about here is something I wrote in the first of those previous posts, and how it ties in with our decision (almost a year ago now) to stay in this one place for the present.

For these Hermit Pilgrims ‘fleeing from the world’  has meant a nomadic lifestyle, few possessions and material needs, a hermit life where our engagement or entanglement with the world is kept to a minimum, and in which we feel less of a pressure to conform, to ‘be shaped’ by the world around us.

The notion of staying in this one place – as fully now and in the present as we can be – is actually  paradoxically a fleeing of its own kind. The world of Samsara, the material world ‘out there’ continues to become less and less appealing to these Hermit Pilgrims.

Alongside this growing detachment to the world (as well as the loss of desire to move about in the world geographically speaking), is the deepening realisation that the real and true pilgrimage is within, through and to our own mind and heart.

Complimenting all this, is the growing contentment we are experiencing in this actual place, this hermitage of ours that we are creating on a daily basis. More and more it feels to be the exact place in which that inner pilgrimage is to continue.

Does this mean we have given up on that ‘nomadic lifestyle’? No, not at all. Or, more accurately, we are not niether giving up or not giving up. The present is all there is and we don’t – can’t – know anything beyond that. As the saying goes, What can we say about tomorrow?

We are here, and it is now.

with love
Paul the Hermit

Moment of Catharsis?

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One morning recently I was reciting my prayers when I began to notice the welling of tears in the corners of my eyes. Soon the wellings became a slow stream down each cheek. And, before long, I was more or less sobbing. For a little while.

Where did the tears come from? Why was I crying? Well, to be honest, it’s a mystery.

No mystery, you might be thinking: Sounds like your tears were brought on for some reason by reading the prayers.

I’m not so sure. I used the words ‘reciting my prayers’ deliberately: Not only was I not paying attention to, or even seeing the words on the paper, I was not engaged in the least in the words themselves and their meaning.

Rather than ‘praying’ I was reciting from memory, rote fashion, as if chanting my times tables in primary school. Merely mouthing the words; my mind was blank, as in not there, distant, off doing what my mind does, without awareness from me, when I’m trying to pay attention.

So, was this some sort of moment of catharsis? Possibly, or so it seems to me.

Sometimes – often spontaneously, other times with some forewarning – there is a release: a shedding of tears, as in my story above; a heavy inner or outer sigh of relief; sometimes simply a sense of something let go, something gone, or at least on the way to being gone.

When such moments of catharsis take place, often what causes them, the catalyst, appears obvious. On the other hand – as in my recent sobbing session – that catalyst is a mystery, unrelated in any obvious way to anything happening at that moment, or at least to anything taking place on the surface of that moment.

Equally the cause for the tears, sighs, relief, and so on – the object of any potential catharsis – may also be a mystery. I had no idea at the time, nor do I know now, what caused my tears.

The prayer being recited at the time was about silence. But, as I’ve already mentioned, no way was I actually praying, what with my total lack of attention, obliviousness to the words, my mental blankness. My unconsciousness come to think of it. Nothing to suggest a catalyst or catharsis.

In any case, when such miraculous happenings occur, one thing I try (I hope) to remind myself to not do: Do not ask why. Let catharsis – or whatever process is underway – be as it is.

And to put aside my habitual tendency to analyse and categorise; resist the temptation to want to know and label everything that happens to me. Let the catharsis – if that’s what it is – carry on as it does and not dismiss it as: ‘Oh that’s just me getting emotional.’ Or ‘I must be a bit overtired today.’

To – wildly and freely – paraphrase a few words from an iconic movie character:

Catharsis is as catharsis does.

Taking it Slowly, Taking it Mindfully

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A small irony revealed itself to me just now as I prayed my way through the prayers inserted in the front of my Bhagavad Gita.

I’d completed one prayer and turned the page to the next. Then, without a pause or thought, I quickly turned the page again. I stopped, thought better of it, and turned back to attend to the prayer I’d skipped over.

Now, here’s the irony: The prayer on the first side of that carelessly and mindlessly leafed past page read simply:

Go slowly and mindfully in everything.

Well, that’s not the ironey itself. But, given that this was the page I had simply passed over without a thought, with no pause, the words written there obviously were a lesson for me.

A message to contemplate, to actually stop and pause with, mull over, meditate on, and perhaps make resolutions over. Advice to me to stop, to slow down.

Couldn’t be clearer really.

There’s no telling why I skimmed past that page, that prayer, without a pause. Could be a simple case of absent-mindedness, or a rush to see what was on the next page; a grass is greener type of thing.

Why I was rushing through the pages isn’t the point. What is to the point is here I am, doing morning prayers, praying some, then skipping others. The other point is that in this instance, for some reason I stopped, went back, and prayed the skipped prayers.

So, moving to the resolution.

It’s extraordinary to me when that kind of thing happens. (It does happen quite a lot, but unfortunately I only notice it occasionally) We will have an intuition, or receive a message from ourself that helps to us get back on track when we mess up.

In any case, it’s obvious that I’ve found what I might call the prayer of the day, the mission statement, so to speak, informing whatever activities I undertake today.

Slow and mindful in everything I do, say, and think. For now, for the present, that will the guide on the path of today that I will follow. Keeping in mind the adage that practise makes perfect, for when I falter.

Oh, another irony wrapped up with this one. The prayer on the facing page was also skipped, and in itself sheds another light on the message from that first one. That second prayer actually puts forward one, important, way in which I can actually set about achieving  that first one:

In other words: place more focus on, pay more attention to, the Divine in whatever form, and by whatever name, I encounter it today.

Works both ways I think: Making the effort to go slowly, to be mindful, puts us in the present moment. And, the present moment is the only place we’re going to be able to become aware of the Divine.

Then, as we become aware of the presence of the Divine, we are right where we need to be, when we need to be there in order to actually slow down and be more mindful.

PS These notes were made a few hours ago. Since then, I have on the whole practised being slow and mindful. Not perfectly, mind you, but then as I say, practise makes perfect. Even now as I type this – very attentively – my mind wanders, so there is a way to go for me. The day is not over yet!

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

Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa

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Every blogger will tell you that, for every one idea that leads to an actual published post, there are very many others that have fallen away: an idea that won’t or can’t be developed much; ideas that just don’t resonate; some ideas simply do ‘not fit’ with the overall theme of the blog. All kinds of reasons for an idea to not make it into a post.

Such has been the case with me recently – twice it happened, in a row. I abandoned them both while still notes in this notebook, At the time(s) I felt that these two potential posts just weren’t working and weren’t going to.

Then, yesterday, it happened again, this one making it to the typed stage. This time I realised that it was something other than an unworkable idea – after all, this was the third time in a very short period. There was definitely more to it. So, I went back and reread those two previous rejected posts, to try to find the links, if I could.

Smug, fake – as in as phoney as – ego driven, arrogant and self opinionated (note the small s please). Not to forget they all shouted to me of a reach for a sense of self importance.

Rereading the three it felt as if one could sum it all up by stating: ‘This writer has an ego as big as a house and it’s out of control.’

To tell you the truth, it has shocked me, this run of ego boosting rubbish I’ve been writing lately. The weird thing is, in all three cases, I think the actual themes or ideas have potential; just the tone and style disturbs me.

I know enough about my own mind and how I respond to conditions and circumstances (not to mention moods, emotions and the rest) in my life to know – and I knew it right away from my rereading – that such ego driven, arrogant, self (don’t forget the small s here as well) important stuff comes as a symptom, a sign.

It’s a symptom – an expression – of a low opinion of myself, a problem with self-esteem, a sense that I’m not good enough.
Trying to boost myself up, that’s what it’s all about. In other words I was – have been – blinded by my ego/mind.

Admittedly my ego and my mind were only trying to make me feel better, and, especially with ego in the mix, I led myself astray. Their intentions were good (to cheer up the only ‘me’ they know), but the ego was is not my way.

However, this post isn’t about analysing me or whatever. It is an apology. An apology to my community, both the visible and the not so visible (that includes you dear reader).

I ask forgiveness of Self – this time with the big S

A thousand thank yous and much love

From Your servant

Paul the hermit.

Flowing With the River of Life: A Work in Progress

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O Lord, I take refuge in You.
You are my sole guide, my master.
Show me the right path and
I shall follow it.

This is a prayer I like very much. It appeared one day in a previous incarnation of this notebook, then migrated to my prayer book. Its origins are lost in the mists of forgetfullness.

In any case, I like it – a lot. In a big picture kind of way it encapsulates much about the way I aspire to live my life; what I aspire to devote my life and energies to.

The prayer is addressed to the ‘Lord’ – to the Divine; to the Absolute Reality of (to borrow a favourite phrase) Life, the Universe, and Everything. Some will call this God, some think of it as the creator. For me it is simply Lord: all that is existence.

And it is there that I aspire to take refuge. I seek shelter in the knowledge of the rightness and order of the universe. Not an easy task when I think about the state of life ‘on the ground’ on our home planet; how the horrors can be almost impossible to grasp, to understand, and to keep from despairing over.

But a contented state of refuge, of safety, security, and even happiness, may be found, I sense, by a cooperation with what we might call the flow of the river of life.

And if I am to discover for myself that refuge, then there really is only one choice: to accept that flow of the river of life as my only guide to how to live, what to do, how to be.

Not surprisingly I struggle with the idea of cooperating with and accepting the often crazy and random nature of that flow of my life as my ‘sole guide’; how much harder is it to accept that very river as my master?

Again, if I ever want to be happy, if I ever hope to be free from suffering and attachments to those things that cause me to suffer, then I must accept and cooperate with the reality: the river of life is the master whether I like it or not. I may as well accept it.

Which absolutely and I hope obviously, does not mean I’m a fatalist, or that I am resigned to just let the currents toss me about willy nilly. No, not at all.

My deep sense (yet another site for other struggles) that the solution to suffering does indeed lie in an acceptance of the reality of the flow of life as it’s happening moment to moment.

By not resisting life and what it presents to me, I aspire to arrive at a state of acceptance where I might contentedly and freely ask what is my role here? What is the universe asking me to do?

If I can listen, and actually hear with the ear of my heart, then I might be able to discern the path, which if followed, will free me from suffering .

Then I shall be going with the flow, following the path of least resistence, and I’ll be contributing to my own smooth (well, smoother at least) ride through life.

No Internet Reception? Is It a coincidence?

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My last post spoke of the need for spiritual seekers to have association with devotees, fellow travellers on a spiritual path. I extolled the virtues for hermits living more secluded lives with the little physical contact, such as me, of accessing the Internet to find stories of past and present spiritual seekers, as a means to satisfy that need for association.

Watching videos, reading books and articles online, exploring websites managed by individuals or groups, all present opportunities for association.

I pointed out how all these activities are blessing in that they help instill a sense of connection and belonging, how they confirm the reality that I am not alone. Encouraging and inspiring, I said it was – and it is.

However, I did neglect to point out that there are hazards, pitfalls, slippery slopes, triggers for depression, anger, sadness. For me, spending time ‘online’ should come with an ‘enter at your own risk’ warning.

This is especially the case when spending time on the video watching apps, where you can watch unlimited videos on an unlimited range of topics.

Call it temptation; call it the magnetism of old attachments and conditioning; call it what I like: the reality is that, after too much time watching videos online, I will often start to drift, just for a ‘quick look’, just a short spell of lookin but ‘just a bit’. Not forgetting the sad resolve to only look at ‘stuff that’s good for me’.

A sad resolve I said because so often what I ‘have a quick look’ at is news, movie clips; anything that tugs at my old ways and habits, anything that pushes old buttons and triggers my old depressive and decidedly non-peaceful, melancholic self.

It doesn’t happen that often, not anymore. But when it does, I have a sense of sinking back into the mire of worldliness as it’s called. I feel the falling into the aforementioned pit. Even stuff I have strong aversions to, such as certain political leaders, reach out to grab me when such moments arise.

Anyway, such a slide down the slippery slope has been threatening the last couple of days. So, tonight I decided: no videos or other web stuff. Time for a break; time to clear my mind and relax.

The only online thing I thought I’d do is post some photos on a photo sharing site I belong to. Watching videos and other web stuff, causes me to neglect important things, like sharing my photos, sitting quietly, reading; all the good things. Time to settle. Time to catch up.

So, all set up to begin sharing, all that was missing was an Internet connection. I tried rebooting devices; all the usual remedies. Still no connection. Twenty minutes later I finally got it: the Universe wasn’t going to allow me anywhere  near the Internet.

Interesting timing, I thought. I decide no Internet (sort of) but the Universe has other ideas: Absolutely no Internet.

Of course Internet dropping out is hardly a unique event. It’s not as if it’s even a rare or occasional occurance.
Still, the last few days, the connection has been excellent. Then, tonight, nothing. Could be a coincidence? But then I don’t believe in coincidences.

Whatever. Now I am happily writing a blog post to share with you, then I’m going to actually make some pictures – been neglecting that too. Then, after that I’m going to get back to a partly read but excellent book I’ve lost touch with. Time to reengage.

Meanwhile, I will choose to think that the Universe is unfolding exactly as it’s meant to.

No Internet? No problem.

You Can’t Try to Go With the Flow

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Every writer, every painter, every person who makes things – and that includes all of us human beings – will sometimes get the feeling that they are never going to have another idea, or the inspiration, the creative spark or energy, to create anything ever again. Not ever again.

Certainly  that – what could we call it: crisis of confidence? Moment of fear? A feeling of inadequacy? The seeming loss of the desire to create? We could probably keep going with this, but let’s not.

Where was I? Yes. Certainly that, whatever we call it, comes over me really quite often when it comes to the writing of this blog. It’s become a standing joke in the hermitage: Whenever I’m asked if I have another post coming on, my most usual response goes something like:

‘No, and I don’t think I’ll ever write another post. The ideas are all gone. It’ over.

(As I reached for this notebook just now, I was asked that question and ironically I was able to answer with confidence and certainty, ‘Yes I do’.)

As I said, it’s a standing joke because, well, something always reveals itself to me, eventually. An idea, an inspiration, an insight is presented. Something I sense is worthy of sharing, always comes to me.

Having said that, there are times when I really do have that horrible sense that it’s finished, that I will never ever again receive an idea for another blog post.

But, here’s the great thing: Having become a standing joke, this perceived loss of ideas, insights, inspiration, the joke serves its purpose: It makes me smile, it treats the whole thing with some humour.

In other words, I’m not allowed to just get away with feeling sorry for myself. It cheers me up. It props me up a little, and gets a little part of my mind opening up to something new or fresh to write about.

There have been times during the journey of this blog when I have strayed from my intention for this blog. As it says beneath the blog title on the top of the page, this blog is meant to be:

musings on one hermit’s life and world

In the past, I’ve sometimes solved this ‘no ideas’ problem by writing about a topic from something I’ve read, teachings I’ve studied, or some other things not directly about me or my personal experience.

Lately (for some time now) I’ve resisted this ‘easy way out’, and tried more attentively to stick to the intention stated in my sub-heading – write about me and my experience.

Okay, it’s in fact not trying that’s the point, both with me writing this blog, and also with every other aspect of how I try (sorry, not try) to live my life.

Wu Wei it’s called, the path of least resistance. Certainly wracking my brain to come up with post ideas, and straying from intentions just so I can have a post, sets up much resistance on many levels.

You can’t ‘force’ musings, can you? If you muse you muse, if you don’t muse you don’t muse. It’s about letting it flow, or if it’s not flowing, let it be.

And here’s the interesting thing: it – the flow of ideas, insights, musings, whatever – flows at its own pace anyway regardless of my interference, angst, worry, or my forcing things to go this way or that.

My lesson for today – for my life too I pray:

Go with the flow