Tripping On the Sidewalk

Walking home, returning to the sanctuary of the hermitage, I fell over. Or to be exact, I tripped.

It’s not the first time I’ve tripped in my life, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. Mind you, I’m not supposed to be making speculations about the future; after all, I may never fall over (or trip) again.

Let me share with you how I came to find myself lying on the ground, fully conscious thankfully, with only a few grazes on arms and knees, and a sore spot on the side of my head.

Walking along the sidewalk quite freely, earbuds feeding my ears and my heart my favourite mantra to Ganesha – known as the remover of obstacles and the God of wisdom. (more on the earbud issue later)

At one point I noticed, a few metres ahead, what appeared to be the back of a largish sign board leaning against the base of an electricity pole growing out of the pavement.

Not the actual sidewalk

Without any thought whatsoever, as I came up to that pole, I turned my head to the left to see what the sign read. Next thing I know, is I have the sense of falling. Later I remembered that at the exact moment I turned my head, my foot caught the broken and uneven edge of a slab of the pavement.

I was blessed by two passersby who stopped and helped me back to my feet, and stayed with me as I regained some semblance  of my bearings. Thank you to those two good and kind ones.

Now, I don’t like falling over (well, when you think about it, who does?), but in this case I can say through this fall, I have learned a couple of good lessons.

Presence – or lack thereof. Here I am, the hermit monk who is supposedly constantly practising being present, in the moment, here and now; yet I tripped over what I later discovered was a really obvious, clear obstacle on my path.

We all get distracted, you might be thinking. And, yes, it’s true. We can be paying close attention, fully focused, riveted to and in the moment, and, suddenly distraction barges in – in the form of a thought, an external noise, visual imput, and even a broken pavement. You name it, and mind will use any excuse it can to manifest a distraction.

Another lessen – intimately related to presence –  is pausing, or not! As I noticed that sign coming up, I could have chosen to pause to look at it once I reached it.

Then, rather than being a distraction, looking at that sign would have simply been another moment in the ongoing flow of the present. In other words, there’d have been no tripping.

The actual earbuds in question

Now, to the earbud issue. To be honest, my earbuds have more or less replaced my regular over the ears headphones. Because I was never comfortable going out and about with those clunky things on my head and earbuds have allowed me to listen to music pretty much whenever and wherever  I go. Even to me wearing them, they are barely noticeable. It’s possible that’s the problem right there: unnoticeable.

More than 30 years ago now, I spent every Tuesday evening for a year attending classes at a school of philosophy . To this day I still follow some of the practices I learned there. And, passed to me were so many good lessons, so much good knowledge drawn from many of the world’s spiritual and intellectual traditions. So many of these lessons have stuck with me.

Presence, or rather the benefits and rewards of realizing  the present is all there is, was I would say, one of the cornerstones of those teachings.

One illustration about presence concerned driving, and although at the time I haddn’t learned to drive, it resonated with me. Our teacher told us that, when she was driving, she never listened to music or anything else. She told us that she simply put her full attention on the task at hand: driving.

She described how it often happened that when driving she’d reach her destination with little or no memory of the actual act of driving or any landmarks or events on the trip itself. She said it was if she was somehow unconscious, yet still able to drive ‘on autopilot’ was how she put it.

And of course it’s not a phenomenon limited to driving: how much of our routine daily activity runs on autopilot?

Anyway, back to the other day and me grooving to Ganesh in my ears and tripping in a moment of inattention.

I don’t recall being distracted by the mantra in my head, or moving on autopilot. But, thinking back, I was in one of the busiest sections of the little town that hosts our hermitage. I’d been to the supermarket, the parking lot of which is as busy – and crazy –  as one you would find in any big city.

Just another sidewalk tripper

So, I realise now, I had already kind of set myself up to fall for any distraction that happened to come along. While I don’t really remember myself as being ‘unconscious’ of my surroundings or of the path itself, clearly I wasn’t completely there, not in the here and now sense if you know what I mean. Just an after thought: who remembers ‘being unconscious? Nobody I think!

Whatever I say now, I wasn’t present; I wasn’t fully in the moment, not paying attention to either what I was doing or what was going on around me.

Since my little trip, I have vowed before my hermit community to not ever walk again in a built up and busy area wearing my earbuds.

Not only do I have a sense of danger lurking when I think of the idea of wearing them in those situations, but I also feel that it’s not exactly being present, in the here and now is it?

Another closed cafe on some other trip

Okay, I am very sure you are waiting with great anticipation to learn what what fateful sign, put in my way by the Universal Traffic Controller to push me into changing direction, actually said:

It was a handwritten advertisement for ‘great coffee’ to be had in a cafe across the road. A closed cafe I might add.

On Main Road –  a road that more than lives up to its name –  perhaps there are worse fates awaiting the inattentive than merely tripping on the sidewalk.

What? It’s the Next Question

I’m rewriting this post after initially making it another two for one thing. One of those two questions had been: ‘What is prayer?’. As in what form can and does prayer take, my prayer that is.

Then I realised that all the thoughts, all the contemplations and reflections I came up with in answer, belonged more correctly in the How question which will be coming in due course.

Which means, that in this post we will be looking at just the one question, which also is only about my own personal prayer life.

What do I pray for?

As it happens, I have already spent a little time on this question in the Why do I pray? post back in November. I think it would be a good start to begin this post with a quote from that one:

  ‘So,’ you might ask, ‘you pray without any ulterior motive at all? You don’t pray to get things? You don’t pray for healing for others or yourself? You don’t pray for peace and happiness for the world or for yourself? None of these things?’
  These are good, valid questions. And the short answer is yes, of course I do. I do pray for healing for others and myself; I do pray for communal and personal peace. As for happiness, well who doesn’t pray in one way or another for a just a little happiness now and again?
  However, I do draw the line at praying for material things, like money and material objects to possess, none of those kind of things. I believe I don’t pray for such things. I think so anyway.

Now, I don’t know about you, but it seems to me that those two last little sentences are broadcasting a very clear message: Obviously there is some uncertainty in my thoughts about what I actually in fact do pray for.

Somewhere, sometime, recently I wrote to the effect of that there is nothing to pray for, and that there is nobody to do the praying. This, of course is not a notion we can really get to grips with while living in a material body in a material Universe.

It’s nore for those dwelling in some transcendental realm where everything that exists has ceased to exist, and all that remains is pure consciousness.

So, obviously while we continue our existence as embodied beings, living in a material universe, there is much to pray for and there are many of us who do pray. Speaking only for myself personally, I know I could pray more, better, and deeper. As I’ve mentioned many times, my aspiration is to make my entire life – physical, mental, spiritual, – a prayer.

Okay, that’s all very good and fine, but I still haven’t answered the question: What do I pray for?

Well, as I mention in the quoted passages above, I pray for healing and peace for other people, the world, and for myself. I pray for happiness, health, and freedom from suffering for all beings.

But it’s not that I’m directing my prayer to some being up there in some heavenly realm who sits arbitrarily dispensing favours or denying them, and who acts according to the quality and quantity of prayers sent their way.

No, it’s more about, as I talk about in Who do I pray to? the post before this one, directing my attention, thoughts, actions and everything else, to the symbols that represent for me the natural flow of the laws and order of the Universe. Why?

Seeking alignment, I think that’s the best answer. By praying I am seeking to align myself, to put myself in sync with those natural laws, with the flow of that natural order.

Referring to the quote above, the peace and healing I pray for are like affirmations of my desire for that alignment, and that the entirety of Self itself be in alignment. That Self I speak of is of course all that exists in the Universe.

It’s similar when talking about praying for material ‘things’ while remembering too, that healing and peace are also in fact ‘things’ of the material world. Perhaps the best way to put it is to say that it is not the ‘things’ themselves that I pray for. With the risk of sounding like i’m repeating myself, it is correct alignment with all material existence that I am praying for.

Actually, it is more than that now I think about it. My prayer – and my life – is actually about my seeking to properly and fully realise that (to quote the glorious Desiderata:

No doubt the universe is unfolding as it should

We suffer when we label that unfoldig or a person, a thing or event or whatever as good or bad, desirable or undesirable; when we think there is a them and there is a me or an us always separated; when we are compelled to gather possessions and yet still think we never have enough. These are the dualities of material nature.

My prayer is to realise, not just know in my mind, but realise in my heart, that there are no dualities. There is only … Ummm. Well, perhaps that’s it: There is. Only. Nothing else. Only. Is.

May all beings come to know their Isness.

Who? Just One of Many Questions

In November last year I published a post on this blog that sought to answer the question, Why do I pray?
In that post I said that this question is one of the big ‘Who am I’, Self-Enquiry questions.

I also claimed in that post that it was (is) a core aspiration of mine that I make prayer a ‘whole of life activity’. To quote me from that post:

You see, I want to pray, and make my whole life a prayer. A prayer of praise and devotion; a prayer of gratitude and loving; and a prayer of service to all beings .

Anyway, moving along to today’s post.

That question, why do I pray, is one I ask myself quite often. It’s not a one time enquiry you can tick off and move on from. The contemplation of why pray is an ongoing and evolving thing.

A couple of days ago, as I once again reflected on this particular question, it occured to me that perhaps it wasn’t the only one I needed to be asking myself if I am to think about my prayer life in any depth. Actually, the same could be said for pretty much anything one is trying to find answers to.

Indeed, many writers – particularly story tellers and journalists – will be aware of the series of questions often used to get to the truth of something:

Who? What? When? Where? Why? and How?

Commonly refered to as the ‘The Five W Questions’ (although there is that H in the mix leading to some calling them the WH Questions), these questions asked correctly and thoughtfully, will help to ensure a comprehensive and complete answer to any enquiry.

The next thought popping in suggested that it might be a great idea to apply the W Questions (including the H) to me and my prayer life.

At first I thought it seemed like a neat challenge, a kind of intellectual exercise that would be interesting. Then, though, after thinking about it some more, I realised that contrary to being just some mental challenge, asking myself these questions in relation to my prayer life, might actually be essential.

Especially if I am to some day reach fulfillment of my aspiration to make of my whole life a prayer. It’s the only way, I reasoned, that I would be able to get complete picture of the state of my prayer life.

Of course I have to wonder if it is indeed possible to ever get a ‘complete picture’ of a phenomenon such as an individual’s prayer life. Still, let’s just plunge in, see where it goes, what happens, how it works.

Who

There are actually two ‘who’ questions that I’d like to try to answer, both essential to our enquiry:

Who is it that’s praying? And Who do I pray to?

The answer to the first question is obvious: it’s me doing the praying. But, which me exactly? Not the me who is the true Self, the Absolute Reality. The reason why will become clear as we go along.

No, the me doing the praying is what we might call the body mind complex, the me that lives in the material world as a material being. The impulse to pray, what to pray, who to pray to and all the rest arises in the mind.

Mind you, I along with so many others I’m sure, like to say that I pray with and from my heart, my spiritual heart. But then I do also know that emotions originate as thoughts in the mind. Of course that does not lessen the significance of such emotions and the prayers, love, or devotion that follows.

Now, who do I pray to? I know it’s going to sound a bit odd, flippant and even silly, but as I think about it, I realise that I do in fact pray to everyone and to everything.

Which is to say, my prayers are directed to that invisible ‘something’ that pervades and permeates – and actually is  – everything that exists. You could say that I pray to existence itself. There is nothing or nobody else.

Of course it’s not exactly an easy thing to get a handle on praying to ‘everything and everybody’. I mean, where does one direct their attention? Who or what does one address or speak to? The answer is a lot more straightforward than you might think at first.

Because my prayers are to that amorphous ‘everything and everybody’ it’s quite easy to select one or more resonating and meaningful somethings or somebodys as the objects of my prayer.

There are many spiritual or religious traditions in the world, all with their preferred names and forms of the Divine (or Existence as I named it earlier). Each of these manifestations of the Divine has its own characteristics, their own place in the Universe. They each play their own roles in the cosmic order.

As such there are more or less an infinite number of choices for me to have as foci for my prayer life. I will try to share with you a few of my personal pantheon.

Om: The Essence of Brahman, Absolute Reality

The Existence I’ve mentioned a couple of times is named by some Brahman, the Ultimate Reality, the everything and everybody that I was talking about.

So, I might sometimes pray to Brahman. Mainly it’s an aspirational prayer as I seek to realise fully my already existent oneness with the Ultimate Reality.

Then there is Ishvara, which is probably closer to what most would recognise as God – a personal supreme being, Or, in some traditions Ishvara simply refers to the one or more deities that an individual chooses as objects of her or his devotion.

Centre of Attention on the Hermitage temple alter

Also included in my personal pantheon, are the Divine Mother, Kirishna, Ganesha, Lord Jesus, The Buddha, Sarasvati, as well as other teachers and saints from many traditions who pop in and out of my prayers, seemingly at random.

My prayers are of praise and/or gratitude to the teacher, deity or saint who seems to me at that moment to be most linked to my current circumstances and thoughts.

All of this I call prayer. To God. Or Brahman or Ishvara. Or very often, simply My Lord,

Divine Mother

And in Conclusion: According to the Text Message

Welcome to the continuation and conclusion of the topic we were discussing in our last post. We are spending some time reflecting on a text message I received some days ago.

A multi layered text and one full of treasures on leading a purposeful and satisfying spiritual or inner life. If you missed it, please feel free to visit that post here.

In that previous post I included an image of the text in question, and we ended up looking rather deeply and prayerfully at the first sentence in the text:

Go sit in your cell and your cell with teach you everything.

In today’s post I hope to share with you my contemplation and rigorous reflections on the remainder of the text message.

So, let’s carry on with the next little bit of that text message.

Create your own inner world

This little gem speaks directly to the notion that it is your body and mind themselves that are the primary places in which you dwell; they are your cell that you carry around with you (or perhaps it is they that carry you around) always and everywhere.

And in that cell, where you dwell, you are the creator of the world. It needn’t be a fantasy world, as we might think of an inner world we create for ourselves. It need not be made up of wishful thinking, dreams, or endless thinking about the past, future, fears, regrets and all the other stuff we are prone to.

Rather it can be a place where you content yourself with the constant efforts to remain in the present; it can be a place in which your disciplined and focused mind and heart remain on those self enquiry questions which will ultimately lead you to the full realisation of who you really are, what is your true nature.

There’s a paradox here it occurs to me as I type: while everything that exists in the universe is simply a manifestation of Absolute Reality, (and that includes you and me obviously) the only way to actually discover or realise this knowledge is by delving deeply in our own hearts and minds – and sitting in our cells. We won’t find it ‘out there’.

The outer world will reflect the inner peace

So, with all this inner – self – enquiry cause the big shift? Will you see and experience only bliss and happiness? Will the ills of your body suddenly vanish never to return?
Well, yes. And no.

No because as living entities we are able to do our bit in making our lives what they can be; we can do our part in keeping a healthy body and mind; we can play our part in making the world a better place for all living beings.

Ultimately, though, it is the natural order, the natural laws of the universe that controls, directs, and manifests how all of the material world – including us obviously – operates and works itself out.

Yes, because the committed and rigorous discipline necessary to sit in our cells and enquire into our true natures, will over time and step by step help us to change the way we look at all the troubles and events of the world and our own minds and bodies. Our perspective will undergo a big shift (not quite the one mentioned earlier; this one’s for real).

You see, there are three sources from which our suffering come from: other people, nature, and our own bodies and minds. Self-Enquiry will lead us to realise that our true nature is in fact the totality of all there is, the Absolute Reality.

After this realisation of the truth of our natures, the sources of suffering (other people, nature, and our own body and mind) are still going to be there, going about their business as usual. It’s just that we won’t be as affected by them like we were before; we won’t suffer as we once did.

Maintain Equilibrium

Having read this far you might well be thinking that, yes indeed, the realisation of our true natures, the evolving knowledge that we are not simply the mind and body, and that we are in fact the Absolute Reality, just might lead to a life of balance, of equilibrium. Of calm in the face of crises and problems, peace in the wake of strife.

Well, umm yes, that’s all entirely true. But as for me, I can say I’m nowhere near that state yet. And I suspect nor are most people, and most of us will be trying for a few more lifetimes (if there are any more that is) before we make it.
Mind you, equilibrium does seem to come in little bursts, like a kind of reconditioning process. Sometimes I realise that I am indeed acting more calmly, with more equanimity to situations that might once have thrown me completely off balance.

I’ll admit, though it’s an issue that frustrates me (you see? That proves I’m still identifying with and attached to, the idea that I am a body and mind only). I ask myself, how come with all the spiritual practice, the meditation, and all the sitting in my cell, I can still suffer with annoyance and irritation or collapse with existential angst, rant at injustice … You know what I’m talking about.

All I can do, all any of us can do, is persevere with the enquiry into self; Who is it exactly that’s losing it right now?
Of course it’s ‘me’, but is it really? It is the mind and its emotions and the ego. But it isn’t me, and it’s not you.

Be Still

One of the beauties of this wonderful text message, is that the individual injunctions have built – are building – one upon the other in a nicely logical and understandable way.

Now, the advice to be still: Of course we can take it at face value and take it to mean we are to literally sit with our bodies very still in the one place, in the one spot. Not moving.

Well, it seems the Desert Fathers and Mothers  had a saying or a word of advice to fit every situation. I came across a quote from Abba Ammonas, that sits as a kind of caveat, or perhaps a sort of reality check when thinking of sitting still:

A person may remain for a hundred years in his [sic] cell without learning to live in the cell.

Meaning obviously, that thinking we are still doesn’t mean we actually are still. Well, yes it does actually. But it’s only a part of the picture that we name stillness.

For example, right this moment I am making these notes, I’m looking up references online, listening to Bob Marley on my headphones, and every few minutes I’m taking a sip of tea.

Yet I feel quite still. I sense real focus on every one of these particular tasks as I’m performing them. I am feeling pretty calm and even a tad relaxed. Believe it, for me these are big achievements. Actually this very much speaks to a concept called Action in Inaction, and Inaction in Action. If you’re interested, there’s a fascination article here.

In other words, I think I am actually being still. My thoughts are focused as I said. I’m even in the moment well enough to pause everything else to listen to something from Bob in my ear that speaks to me.

I don’t think anyone can tell you how to be still. Not only is it going to be different from every one of us, being still will always vary and fluctuate in quality and degree. You might say it’s one of those ‘it depends’ kind of things.

I am

Ask yourself: Who am I? Usually the answer comes back: I am … followed by a name, designation, label, an identity of some kind.

Nothing wrong with this. In fact it is natural: it’s how members of our species place ourselves – and everyone else – in the order of things; we need to know our position and that of others in order to negotiate our way through and in the world.

So, what happens when I ask myself that big who am I question? Well, I could answer: I am Paul, I am a hermit, I am a writer, I am servant of God, I am tall, I am a friend, I am a …

Stop! These are all things I do or roles I take on and fill by choice or otherwise. They’re not me, though they are ways for me to describe the ‘me’ that exists and acts in the material world.

It seems according to Ramana‘s teachings on Self-Enquiry that the only way we can discover who or what we are is to list instead what we are not.

Neti Neti it’s called: not this, not this. But most of us feel very strongly that we do in fact exist. In other words we are – or referring to myself – I am.

If I’m not to confuse myself with the misidentification , the temporary labels, and other limiting beliefs as I try to answer my own Who am I? question, then the best I can do is metaphorically shrug my shoulders and answer, ‘Well, I am’.

Which means I think we’ve reached the point where we may finally realise that there is actually no answer to our enquiry; we simply are.

There is nothing to ask; nothing to answer. Only pure being, as in existing: the Absolute Reality. There’s nobody to do the asking.

And in the example of this text message the expression I am, speaks as a kind of signature of the text sender. No names, no labels or self-identifiers or anything else. I aim.

Some musings for you

Last, but most definitely not least is this, a final PS if we can call it that. A reminder that I am to contemplate on all the above, that I am to reflect on the words of the text.

And I’m very happy that I’ve spent this time sharing that contemplation, those reflections, with you.

I am. You are. We are
(actually there is only I am, but you know what I mean

Bright Lights on the Dunefields

Namaste and Welcome friends.

A poem for your reading pleasure. Written on site today in response to an experience while out walking on the dunes next to the hermitage.

I’m including a photo I made a few weeks ago of the exact place where the poem was written,

And many loving thanks to my partner hermit for the sketch made in the same area today (synchronistically it was made unknown to me and vica versa)

Please enjoy.

Love from Paul the Hermit

BRIGHT LIGHTS IN THE DUNEFIELDS


Today. On the Ocean Track.
Daily hiking across the top of the dunefields.
Not so sure-footed,
I trudge heavy-footed.

As I pass by, there are bright lights in the dunefields.
I pause in my passing as my eyes are drawn
(or is it my heart?)
to the bright lights in the dunefields.

I feast my senses upon
the bright lights in the dunefields.
They bless me, these bright lights.
They sing to me; they speak to me.

In my silence, I hear them.
But I hear not voices.
I see them.
But I see not colours, shapes or forms.

What I see, I see.
I see me, I see you.
They see me,
the bright lights in the dunefields.

They see you; can you see them?
These bright lights in the dunefields.

We are all bright lights in the dunefields.

Details in the Dunefields

On a Pilgrim’s Way

Today I went on a pilgrimage.Not that I don’t undertake all kinds of little pilgrimages all the time. And even more, it’s not as if my whole life – just like yours and everyone else’s – isn’t one ongoing and continuing pilgrimage.

All true; but this one, today, was embarked upon in what might be called, a classic manner: on foot, to a place of sacred significance, and in a spirit of contemplation of the nature of the journey as well on that which is being pilgrimed too. (I am positive there is no such word!)

In this case, today’s pilgrimage, that place was a church about two and a half kilometres from the  hermitage. It’s a place I have visited several time, but today was the first time I set out as a pilgrim and walked in the way and spirit of the pilgrim.

Our Lady of the Rosary is a Catholic church dedicated to the Mother of Jesus in her role as patron of the Holy Rosary, a Catholic way of prayer that has evolved over time and is a key part of the lives of many Catholic people.

Just to the right, just inside the door there is a plain brick wall in which there is a small niche. The niche holds an almost life-size statue of Mary. She stands, hands folded over her chest on which sits the Dove of Peace.

You can see from the photo that the church itself is a lovely, quiet, serene place full of good vibes and nice peaceful energies. The object, however, of my pilgrimage was not the church in itself, but stood just inside the side door accessed through an equally peaceful, fountain centred garden.

I have come to offer her – this form or manifestation of the Divine Mother – the prayer I wrote to her which I hope you saw when I posted it on this blog recently.

I had decided that my pilgrimage vow would be fulfilled once I had knelt at her feet and offered her the words of my heart in prayer.

My reverence for the Divine Mother is well known, and especially in her form as Mary the Mother of Jesus. Or Our Lady as we called her as good little Catholic children way back in the long ago. And I know I have said often that the entirety of the material and non-material cosmos is a manifestation of the Divine.

So, why then a special trip on foot, that I’m labeling a pilgrimage to a specific site, so I can kneel at the feet of a statue that I know perfectly well is made of stone or plaster and is simply a symbol of one aspect of the Divine?

Actually, the question has answered itself. The pilgrimage and my associated actions worded in that question tell us the why.

It is about acknowledging at a heart level and in my own way, that that symbol, that form, is actually representing a particular aspect of the Divine that I revere.

Besides, I’m not the first person who’s knelt at that spot, at Mary’s feet. I don’t know the age of the church, nor do I know the history of that particular statue, but I think we can say for certain that many hundreds, if not thousands of other people have been there where I was and spoken words from their hearts.

Being honest and true now, what I can say is that, as I said to my partner hermit: ‘I feel like i’ve been on a pilgrimage’.

And I do. I’ve walked – praying and chanting – to a sacred place where I have prayed at the feet of the Divine in the form of a likeness of Mary. I feel blessed that I actually got to offer the prayer I wrote to the Divine Mother.

Somehow I feel a link was established. A heart (mine) opened ever so slightly. I acknowledged the Divine, and I sense that I might just be – ever so slightly again! – topped up with a bit of the Grace that is in reality our true state.

Mary in the Garden (enhanced by a fellow Hermit Pilgrim. 
Thank you)

So, this is the story of my pilgrimage. I was absolutely exhausted when I arrived back at the hermitage. Most likely that was due to the heat, the traffic, and the noise encountered on the way I trod.

But, now I’ve shared this little tale with you, I’m not tired. Anyway, the Way is not always easy, and we are all very well aware of that aren’t we?

Namaste friends. The Divine in me salutes the Divine in you.

It’s a walk to take,

a pilgrimage to make.

Sometime soon.

Said by me long ago, I don’t know when or where. It was one of those ‘You’re a poet and don’t know it’ moments.

Peace!

The Q&A in the Scripture Part 1

Welcome to the first in a short – and occasional – series centred on a text containing a kind of Q & A session between Krishna (God) and Uddhava (his cousin).

Thirty six questions in all, with which Uddhava asks Krishna how he can live a good and honest life, dedicated to doing right and living the truth.

If you haven’t already, it would be really helpful if you read the Introduction post here, before going much further; just so you have a better handle on the context, the background etc. It will just help to set the scene a little more.

Now that’s been said, let’s get on and into it. The very first question Uddhava puts to Krishna is actually two questions in one.

What is quietude and self-control

Good questions, the both of them, given the circumstances Uddhava finds himself in. His hometown (it’s Krishna’s too) is about to descend into a nasty civil war and is most likely a chaotic, noisy, overwhelming and frightening environment to be stuck in.

Uddhava, like the rest of us just wants a peaceful life, and as to the second question, well he’s bound to be asking himself the same question we’d ask: Why can’t these people just control themselves before it’s too late? Not to mention the onslaught of emotional and mental anguish he’d be suffering himself.

Anyway, Uddhava is about to leave town following his cousin’s advice, and would like to find out how he can go on to live a good, righteous and honest life, while he’s in exile from his home.

Krishna chooses (sensibly I’d say: they’re both big questions) to answer one question at a time and he begins by explaining what is quietude:

Quietude is fixing the mind on me.

Krishna is not saying here: ‘Look, once I’m gone [I think I’ve mentioned that he’s leaving too, going back to Heaven or wherever he lives on a permanent basis] try to remember your dear old cuz in the odd quiet moment now and again will you?’

What I think he is actually saying is: ‘If you fix your mind on me, then that’s quietude’. We could call it silence as well. He’s not saying ‘I am in the silence’, nor is he saying ‘Through silence (or quietude) you will come closer to me’. No, what he says is ‘Quietude is what I am’.

So, what about those of us not in a first names relationship with Krishna? Well, think of Krishna as being a name and form of Universal Consciousness. Yes, the same Universal Consciousness  that is all created and non-created things; the sun, Earth herself, trees, the oceans, all living and non-living beings in the Universe, in all universes if there are more than one.

There are a whole list of synonyms for quietude: equanimity, calmness, peace of mind, rest, serenity, dispassion. Just to name a few.

These further definitions are really quite helpful. What I mean to say is that we rarely if ever associate that calmness, equanimity, peace, and the rest, with actually being the Universal Consciousness, that is also all of us and everything else that is. Again, think of Consciousness as the Divine, God, or by any other name and form, you attribute to the natural order and flow of the Universe.

Forgive the repetition : Quietude, calmness, peace of mind, are not where you will find God or consciousness, or whatever. They are all consciousness.

The beach is also dog friendly

Have I mentioned that the current hermitage is a cottage on the side of a large sand dune, on the other side of which is a stunning stretch of Pacific Coast beach. Sitting on the top of the dune and looking out over the beach and ocean it is easy to think of all that’s seen as divine.

It is most definitely a peace of mind, calm and quiet inducing experience to sit there. Certainly it is quietude itself with the only sounds being the song of the universe in the form of the waves and wind.

A question I asked myself, and I now pose to you: If what we’ve been calling Universal Consciousness is actually all that is, then why not a state of mind like quietude, calmness, balance, and the rest? Like everything else perhaps these states are simply elements of that consciousness or Absolute Reality, or oneness, or what some call God, the Divine, or … ?

In any case, I have a feeling that’s what Krishna was getting at with his answer, and what Uddhava somehow intuited with his question.

Thank you for joining me on this little pilgrimage. in the next post in this series (it could appear anytime, so stay tuned!) we will discuss Krishna’s answer to Uddhava’s second question: What is self-control?

Peace

Un hommage à tous les ailés

New Series Coming Soon: An Introduction

Lord Krishna

Namaste and greetings friends

Not long ago I began studying an Indian scripture called The Uddhava Gita. It’s quite a lovely book actually: it’s poetic, actually it is a poem, or song, and beautifully written. The title means The song of Uddhava and is an account of a conversation between Krishna wearing his God of the Universe hat, and his cousin Uddhava.

The story takes place in their home town of Dwarka in the state of Gujarat (Krishna was also a regular family man with a huge extended family) which is about to explode in a destructive civil war. Soon Krishna is leaving to return to his heavenly abode, and at the opening of our story, he advises Uddhava that he too should leave town ASAP.

I should point out at this juncture that I do not see this Gita as a historical document. It’s a story created as a backdrop against which to place a long conversation in which Krishna, or God, passes some spiritual teaching to Uddhava.

Dwarkadheesh Temple Dwarka India
By Scalebelow – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5739970

Although the location of the story is a real place and exists today, we don’t learn anything beyond that this is the setting for this little chat.

The purpose was to present these teachings in an entertaining and accessible format. Like so many scriptures around the world, this one is a song, making it easier to learn and pass from one person to another over time in a society that was not yet universally literate.

So, why am I writing about this text? Well, in one section Uddhava is asking his cuz all sorts of questions, that have obviously been on his mind for a while. He knows Krishna is leaving he planet soon and he thinks that this might be his last chance to get some answers.

He asks questions like: What are reality and truth? And, What is a person’s strength. Then there are queries like: Who is a friend? What is home? Many are related to spiritual matters and practice, and all are concerning qualities and attributes a person should possess to live a good life, a honest life. A Dharmic life.

Actually, if I were to condense all of Uddhava’s questions into one big question, it would probably go something like this:

How can I change my lifestyle so I might live a righteous life, a good and honest life in which I can learn the truth and live my whole life according to that truth?

Now, here’s the thing: Uddhava asks a total of 36 questions, some singularly, some are multiple questions containing two or three queries. Krishna then proceeds to answer the questions, all of them in fairly quick succession.

I would like to share a few of those answers with you. I don’t get the sense that the questions are asked or answered in any particular order or pattern, so perhaps those I share will be an idiosyncratic selection, or it may be entirely random. Not that there is such a thing of course, so I guess you will just have to wait and discover for yourself the chosen questions.

Don’t worry! I have no intention of burdening you with the complete set of 36. In addition to saving you that fate, some of the questions and or answers didn’t resonate; others didn’t feel overly relevant to this blog.

I’d like to devote an individual post to each of the questions, bearing in mind some of them are multiples. I learned about all 36 questions and their answers in an hour long class. Needless to say that experience was more than slightly mind-blowing. One or two (or maybe three) at a time will be just fine for all concerned I think.

So, next post, I look forward to sharing with you the first of Uddhava questions along with Krishna’s answer. It will in fact be literally the first one asked; I thought discussing it at the start would sort of set the scene and the tone for us.
After that one there will be further posts. Again don’t worry, I’m planning a fairy short and occasional only series.

Reflections on a Word

Henry David Thoreau

Did you know that Thoreau, when he was staying at Waldon Pond would sometimes sit on the front steps of his cabin right after sunrise.

Often he would look up and discover that it was already  midday or even late afternoon; he’d spent those several hours in a reverie.

Being in a reverie is most often described as being a pleasant experience, just like a nice day-dream. It is also universally (at least in the context of my short Google searches) described as being ‘lost in thought’, as well as being a place of fantasy, a place in which fanciful and impractical ideas are born.

In other words, a reverie while being pleasant, does not seem to be looked upon as a useful, productive, or worthwhile experience.

I’ve been thinking about the word, reverie, and the state to which it refers for a couple of days now. In fact since I read the anecdote opening post in a truly wonderful and illuminating book called Thoreau’s Quest: Mysticism in the Life and Writings of Henry David Thoreau, by Paul and Anna Hourihan.

The outcome of this contemplation and the above-mentioned little bits of Googling, is that I don’t agree at all with the dictionaries when they tell us that reveries are almost useless and have little or no benefits.

Even the Hourihans dismiss the value of reveries when compared to the practice of formal meditation. Listen to what they say:

There is a difference between the two. Meditation means effort, concentration of the total mind. What Thoreau has experienced is reverie – passive, beautiful and enchanting, but not true meditation.

My reaction to this dismissal? Well, I say, what’s wrong with an experience that is passive (there might be a book in the idea that reveries might not be all that passive after all) beautiful and enchanting?

And on the other side? Why is it  seen as virtuous to be always making efforts and concentrating the total mind all the time? Speaking for me and I suspect several billion other people, I get tired, always trying, making effort, always concentrating and the rest.

I’m not saying at all that I’m not in favour of meditation. Indeed, I spend hours each day (in theory that is) in some kind of effortful, concentrated meditation. But, really, isn’t it nice now and again to just give up the effort, lose concentration, just for a bit? Just rest.

Of course when one’s mind wanders in reverie, fanciful ideas and thoughts will arise. Mind you it’s equally likely that some of those thoughts and ideas won’t be fanciful, but be helpful. And you know, I doubt there’s a meditator in the universe who would not report exactly the same thoughts and fancies come up despite all their meditatory efforts and concentration That’s just how our minds work.

The notion of being ‘lost in thought’ is interesting to look at too. I don’t think it’s quite the right way to refer to what happens in reveries. At least not completely.

Was Thoreau really lost in thought when he would suddenly realise that several hours had passed without him being aware?

Perhaps it’s more likely that at least a proportion of those hours were spent in a thought free state, just as in deep sleep when our mind is absent.And we all know how restful and satisfying deep, dreamless sleep can be. Maybe that’s why reveries are described as ‘pleasant’ experiences.

My teacher talks about how sometimes when we’re listening to a favourite piece of music, we can become ‘lost in the music’. We all know how that feels. He then asks us to consider, what is it exactly that ‘gets lost’?

Well, just as with deep sleep or when in a state of Samadhi or deep meditation, it is the mind that disappears – along with its self-idenifying ego sense. In other words, whoever we think we are goes missing or absent for a while.

When I’ve experienced that state when listening to music, I would describe it as losing track of time, or rather not being aware of time at all. Thoughts come and go but don’t often stay long, ‘just floating by like clouds’ as someone recently described it to me. And afterwards when I return to ‘normal’ I sometimes have a sense that for a time I and the music were one, no separation or judgements, non-different.

And so it is when ‘lost’ in a reverie: the ego disappears; thoughts come and go. What’s left is the space between thoughts – a bit like the silence that exists between notes in a musical composition.

Some say that it is this silence, this space when mind and ego are absent, is where the divine is to be found. It is said, by some, that it is in this space, this silence, one may experience God, or Absolute Reality.

So, no ego; no monkey mind jumping about; no ‘I’ to interfere with the state of silence, stillness, and peace. And quiet!

And if one removes the letter ‘I’ from the word reverie? We are left with revere. Perhaps those who tell us that the silence is God, those who say that the absence of thoughts, ego and so on, allows us to detect the Divine, are onto something. That silence, and the process by which it is realised, are to be revered.

Being ‘lost’ (the dictionary’s word not mine) in a reverie might just be the most useful and the most productive (not the world’s definition, but more in the sense of the actions that make for the betterment of Self) thing we can do when the mood, the moment, and the inclination strike.

As Promised: A Prayer of Praise and Gratitude to Trees

At one point in my last post on Bhakti (if you missed it you can find it here) I mentioned that I hoped to soon publish a recently written prayer titled A Prayer of Praise and Gratitude to Trees.

Even as I typed those words in that previous post, I thought: ‘soon’? Why the delay? What’s wrong with now? So, without any further delay, here is our next post and in it I’m very glad to be sharing that prayer with you.

As my comment in that previous post explained, this prayer (and others too) is one more little step in my ongoing effort to cultivate a mood or feeling, and a practice, of Bhakti or loving devotion to the Divine.

If you’ve read that last post you will recall that I stressed my deeply held and heartfelt conviction that the Divine is everything. As I may have actually said: there is only the Divine; one, whole, partless and indivisible. Now, to knowingly repeat myself: The Divine is one without a second; that’s all there is.

This prayer to trees is an attempt to acknowledge that oneness of which each and every tree – just like you and me and all other beings – is a manifestation, each with its own unique name and form.

This prayer, though composed by this particular name and form, is in fact just one more expression of that oneness we all share. As such it is as equally yours as it is mine. As I said earlier, I am glad we are sharing this now.

A Prayer of Praise & Gratitude to Trees

Dear Aranyani

With this prayer we greet you. We offer you our praise, and our gratitude.

When we come into your presence, you remind us that in meeting and greeting you, we are in fact meeting and greeting God.

We bless you and we thank you for the shelter that you steadfastly provide to so many living beings. In so doing you support, protect, and nurture the continuance of life for all of us.

Your every exhalation is for so many other living beings the breath of life, of Prana – the life force itself.

You remind us as we witness your strength, your resilience, and your calm flowing with the winds of change that we too share that strength, resilience and the potential for calm flowing with those winds of change that are also constantly buffeting us.

Om Aranyani Namah

PS Who is Aranyani? She is a Hndu deity of the forests and all that dwell within the forests. Basically she is the Goddess of Trees and here is simply the name and form representing all trees.

Sacred Strings, Sacred Tree