Category Archives: spirituality

Lookin’ For Love in All the Right Places

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It’s often advised by spiritual teachers and leaders, by Gurus, and other religious people, that a vital factor in the success of any spiritual endeavour or quest, is that the seeker or devotee is able to share the association of other, fellow devotees.

It is important, they say, that the seeker keep company with fellow travellers on the same or similar paths.

So, how does that work for a hermit? How does the seeker committed to living a secluded life, separated physically from others, find this association with those like himself pursuing a spirituality oriented life, a life of devotion, prayer, contemplation, and service?

Well, this hermit can’t speak for hermits generally; he can only tell you how it is from his personal perspective. So, how do I manage to obtain association with fellow travellers on my path to the Divine?

Firstly, I am blessed to share my hermitage and my life with my partner hermit, as I have done for virtually the whole of my adult life.

And my partner is very much a fellow traveller on the path of commitment to the hermit life, to a life of prayer, devotion, service, and contemplation.

This makes me think of something purportedly said by the Lord Jesus:

For where two or three are gathered in my name, there I am in the midst of them

Matt 18:20

In other words, when the two hermits are gathered in the name of the Divine, which is really all the time, then there is the Divine.

Of course, everything, all beings, all things, are the Divine. And, as if in confirmation of just that idea, something interesting happened. Out of curiosity, without any deeper thinking than that, I looked up Chapter 18 Verse 20 in my Bhagavad Gita. It was just for fun, but I ended up getting a nice surprise:

The knowledge by which the undivided supreme being is seen in all entities, though it is divided into numerous forms, is situated in the mode of goodness.

Bhagavad Gita 18:20

Supreme being, universal consciousness, the Christ, God, the Divine. Many names, one essence.

Even so, at times we feel alone, sometimes lonely.And isolated from others on the path of the Divine. So, what do I do to have this association with other devotees, with fellow travellers?

I make enquiries into the lives – both historical and contemporary – of others who have followed or are following a genuinely spiritual path and life. I watch online videos, I read books, as well as I subscribe to a few online newsletters which I discover by investigating websites I’m led to in some way. All these provide so much opportunity for association, for connection, and for learning.

Such explorations, are at the very least, informative: I can see – or read – for myself the evidence that I am not alone and never have been, in my commitment to the Divine and a spiritual life.

They are inspiring and encouraging: I’m not alone! I can do it! And often I get ideas, clues, on how I might deepen my practice, improve my service, love more.

I love the hermit life

In a sense such stories – in visual or in word form – ‘keep me company’. As I said a couple of times already (sorry!) I’m not alone. And I can smile, perhaps nod my head in agreement (or shake it in disagreement) with a comment or observation from one of my fellow devotees on the screen, or on the page. I guess in a way, it gives me a sense of belonging or connection.

Some might say that encountering people or experience via a video or book, is vicarious at best. But I wonder about that actually: Remember my fondness for the Ripple Effect? For my strong feeling for sending out good vibrations?

And, what did Jesus say about when two or three gather? He never mentioned that it was necessary for those two or three to be sharing the same physical space.

Life’s lonely; we all know that, and to encounter like-minded, or like-hearted people sharing a similar path to mine, is more than a prayer answered. It’s a life affirming, love affirming, blessing.

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

Sendin’ Out Good Vibrations

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It always surprises me how quickly, how easily – how smoothly – a perfectly okay conversation or train of thought will, just like that, morph into a full-on gossipy rant.

You know the thing: pointing the finger at what someone else is doing wrong; or precisely and with great clarity of analysis detailing how another person (or sometimes myself) has erred, how they’ve slipped up, made mistakes they could have or in ‘my opinion’ should have avoided.

How easy it seems to happen that I will suddenly find myself very eagerly ranting about the sawdust in the eye of another, while breezily ignoring the huge plank in my own eye. The errors in someone else’s way are so often clear to me, while my own not so terrific ways are completely ignored.

And the weird thing is, how it sneaks up on you. I mean on me. As I said at the start, one minute I’m having a pleasant and reasonable conversation, the next minute I’m ranting about him, or her, or them, or who or whatever.

Such an error in my own ways, occured this morning as I fell into what felt like a perfectly rational pointing the finger session, full of criticisms and judgements about someone I actually quite admire.

That is until one of the hermits with just one comment, brought the whole thing to a sudden and definite stop:

‘We should be sitting here sending out good vibes. That’s our job.’

A perfectly timed cause for a pause for thought. And absolutely correct – as hermits, as monks committed to the welfare of all beings, it’s more than our job; our lives are dedicated supposedly to love, prayer, service, contemplation on the Divine in all things and how we can best serve that Divine.

Human nature is a tricky topic to think about though. So much of what we do in the world is driven by our desires for more things, for status, for happiness, or pleasure. Eating, sleeping, mating, and defending, I have heard it called by way of summary.

Hermits behind walls are still flawed human beings

I’ve supposedly withdrawn from all that, left it behind ‘in the world’. I live a secluded, quiet, and contemplative life precisely in order to counter those very attributes of human nature.

I suppose all this says is, I am still a human being with all the flaws, all the desires – and aversions – that come with being that kind of, well, being.

Yes, all true. Maybe. But, isn’t it possible that I might use just a bit more discipline? Could I be perhaps a little more clear in my focus?

Perhaps I could ‘sit here’ and send out good vibes. At the very least I could pay a bit more attention to those times when I’m about to slide – or have already slid – into my ‘putting out  bad vibes’ mode.

We can’t really ever know what’s going on in the lives of other people, or in their minds and hearts. In any case, it is rarely, if ever, our business to even want to know or make guesses or assumptions about others’ lives.

As a hermit monk, as a pilgrim on the spiritual path I aspire to walk, my only business is the making of ripples (I know it’s a cliché but it works for me, just as so many do), the distribution of waves, or vibrations of replenishment, of love, and kindness, of good things, out beyond myself.

Good vibes to all living beings who I am pledged to serve, to the Divine that is in, and in fact is, all beings, including me, you and all there is.

A Prayer Is a Prayer, Is a Prayer, Is a …

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‘I’ll carry on with my Gita then,’ I said to my partner hermit after we’d been discussing something for a while.

‘I’m enjoying reading my prayers this morning. So I’ll read a few more then read a few verses’ (of the Bhagavad Gita).

‘Reading’ my prayers? Is that what I’m doing? Surely a prayer – prayers – are for praying? Anyway, not simply for ‘reading’.

Of course in this particular instance, the forms the prayers are taking – on the most superficial, worldly, material level –  are as words written by human hand (mine) on paper pages in a little book.

But, right now, the big question, the existential question really, is have I been merely reading those prayers? Or have I been praying those prayers?

Then there’s another, equally existential, concern that arises: How to know the difference. Reading? Or praying?

I feel like saying that the first thought that comes to mind – the first answer to reach the tip of my pen on this page – is this: Actually, the answer has come in the form of a rhetorical question:

If a prayer is prayed, how would it ever even occur to me query if  it is in fact a prayer, and not just words on a page to be read?

Yes, first thought best thought here I think. When a prayer is prayed, even if its form is words written on a page, there is a movement beyond those words on the page. In fact, there is a transcendence of all that is of the material world that takes place.

A prayer is what it’s always been: a prayer. The forms prayers take are, I think, literally endless, uncountable, and can never be submitted to categorisation by us humans.

Prayer is for praying, that’s the lesson for me. Just pray.

You’re the Voice, Try and Understand It

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One of the things I like about one of our local coffee shops is that they play a nice wide selection of music. Mostly popular songs from pretty much every decade back to the ’60s. I think they have one of those looping playlists you hear sometimes in shops and cafés.

It must be quite a long list because you don’t necessarily hear the same songs repeated at every visit. Which is a nice thing too.

Anyway, yesterday the chorus of a song I heard played got stuck in my head. The song, You’re the Voice, was a hit around the world in 1986 when it was released by Australian singer John Farnham.

It’s essentially a protest song reminding us that we all have a voice, and encouraging us to use our voices to stand up against corruption and war. One of the co-writers Chris Thompson missed out on going to an anti-nuclear protest because he slept late. He felt so badly about sleeping in that he wrote the lyrics reminding us about taking personal responsibility and making our voices heard.

Okay, back to the chorus getting stuck in my head.

You’re the voice, try and understand it
Make a noise and make it clear Oh woah.
We’re not gonna sit in silence
We’re not gonna live in fear Oh woah

You see? It’s very catchy, and an excellent piece of advice too. And, for a hermit monk, it’s actually advice I could and do aspire to live by. Just not quite in the sense the song intends perhaps.

This morning, when my partner hermit suggested we just sit in silence for a while, I spontaneously started singing the chorus, though a slightly modified version:

We’re just gonna sit in silence
We’re not gonna live with fear.

Then, as I sat in said silence, I got to thinking about the words of the chorus.  Nobody wants to live in fear, yet it is an aspect of the human condition and something so many people live with constantly all over the world. All through human history as well.

The message of the song reminds us all that we have a voice which we can use to help create a state of affairs in which we don’t have to live in quite so much fear, fear that’s coming at us from so many sources.

For me, this is a vital, fundamental, and absolutely essential principle. Without those who do stand up, those who do use their voices to try to right wrongs, then, well I can’t think of what that might mean.

Yet, for me, I’ve chosen silence. Not only chosen I must admit: temperament, my own nature, health, all are factors that have made silence the best course for me to take. Silence as in seclusion from the world, minimizing outside imput, and reducing as much as possible the attachment to the world and its things and fears.

And this way of living ironically allows me to use my voice in my own ways to address the Truth as I see it; to help effect change and contribute to the healing so sorely needed.

Being ‘out there’ and engaged with worldly things and activities and interacting with people constantly causes me so much anxiety that it threatens my health and ability to act in the world.

There is also the personal choice aspect, common to so many who live a contemplative life. Silence – when I can actually achieve such a state – gives me the energy and clarity to write; it gives me the mental, emotional and spiritual ‘space’ and energy to pray, to contemplate, and to foster the ‘good vibrations’ I feel are also necessary to turn the world towards peace, healing, and truth, as well as to assist in maintaining the wellbeing of all life.

The world, and all of life, needs both those who can’t or won’t be silent (I’m definitely not suggesting the world needs more noise). We all need people who can and do raise their voices against war, poverty, corruption, and all the ills that plague us.

And it needs those who are able to ‘just sit in silence’. The work to be done is the same; the outcomes perused are the same; and in essence the means themselves aren’t all that different either. Silence as mentioned can include the use of our voices in ‘quiet’ ways, in ways that don’t have to relate so directly the affairs of the world.

It really is a symbiosis: Those of us living secluded and contemplative lives with our prayers, our witness, our creative endeavours, support those active and vocal ones out there trying to heal the world.

And at the same time those out there in the world support the secluded and contemplative ones. Their efforts and hard work, and simply knowing they are there, are encouraging and nurturing for the secluded and contemplative ones.

We are One after all.
Yet our voices are all unique, each and every one.
That’s what I understand to be true.

Story of a Misadventure & An Apology

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Today I’d like to share with you a short cautionary tale. It’s a true story, relating events that took place very recently.

There was a blogger, a serious student on the spiritual path; a monk whose mission in publishing his blog was – is – to share that path with others, to share the lessons he’s learned/learning. He sees it as one important aspect of his ‘doing God’s work’, reaching out to others of like heart and like mind.

Anyway, this blogger, he suddenly felt an intuition: he thought, I’ll set up an account on (insert here very popular platform) social media. That’s how to promote my blog he thought, and attract more readers.

So, dutifully, he set up an account and began posting. One or two poems, a couple of photos with commentary, that sort of thing. The plan was, post whatever seemed might be enlightening, whenever the feeling was there.

The blogger felt that this was a sort of ‘next step’. He thought that bringing more readers to his blog would help him with his quest to love more, and to share love.

But. Something wasn’t quite right. Sure, he, the blogger was excited by this new venture, this expansion of his service to the Divine and to the world. But he felt – literally and physically – a bit sick. A kind of nervousness gnawed at his guts; he just felt yuck.

‘I can’t do this,’ he thought to himself. ‘It’s not right’

So, there and then he resolved to delete the account, to close that chapter forever, and bring his focus back more fully to his blog. That’s where, he realised, was where God’s work could be done, as well as where his own passions lay.

But, the resolve, didn’t last long. He just had to act immediately. So, again right there and then, he deleted the account.

Instantly, a wave of relief swept over our blogger friend. He felt free, back on track. He now felt less burdened by a burden he’s made for himself, a burden that there really was no need to be carrying.

Okay, I confess: the blogger of whom we speak is in fact me. I know, you guessed that already, but it’s a disturbing saga and I guess I had some need to distance myself a little, at least to start with.

So, why the big relief? Why did it feel so right at the outset, but – almost immediately – felt so wrong to the extent of putting me ‘out of sorts’ physically and mentally?

Funny. That ‘out of sorts’ expression. That’s exactly the root of the issue right there I think. Years ago I withdrew from all social media – though I am on a photo sharing platform that is simply for that purpose and only that purpose, sharing photos.

You see, I thought (and still think) that social media generally had become a ground for conflict, and the celebration of conflict; it was a ground for corruption, gossip and sensation, for all the worst of the news (I know, the best too). Anyway, you know wht I mean: I’m not alone in giving it all up.

And, yet, here I was, feeling led to reopen that particular social media account. An example, I think, of an ego-driven desire for gain disguising itself as a genuine heart or soul intuition or calling.

I choose not to criticise or comdemn any social media platform. They are what they are. All I can say is that it’s not for me, not my ‘sort of thing’, not my cup of tea as it were. No wonder I was feeling out of sorts!

In my selfish, ego-driven compulsion to ‘increase traffic’ (what a horrible expression), I forgot entirely – as we so often do when blinded by desire – that this blog is seen and read by exactly those who are meant to see and read it – you!

So, I apologise to you for that sudden blindness, and for ignoring the absolute reality that it’s all working out just as it’s supposed to.

Thank you for making that so.

Peace and love
Paul the hermit

As Promised: A Prayer of Praise and Gratitude to Trees

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Greetings friends

This post is from several months ago. I was reminded of it as I read a book that’s partly about humankind’s relationship with trees.

Seems like a good good moment to share this prayer with you all once again

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

Self Enquiry: Listen to Your Self

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This last little while I’ve been going through some serious contemplation, some deep questioning, on how to be ‘more of a monk’. Things like how to pray more deeply, and often; how to have a more focused and concentrated devotional practice; how to be a nicer person. Things like that.

Actually, that’s not exactly right is it? These are questions, enquiries, that for a number of years (is all my life too big a stretch?) habe occupied me. I’ve consistently been making enquiries, addressing questions, to Self – as well as to God or the Divine.

Still, like all things in life, self-enquiry goes through more intense, then less intense phases or periods. Let’s just say that lately I’ve been immersed – sometimes to the point of distraction – in one of those more intense periods.

(note from internal editor: Do I have to remind you once again to get on with the story you are here to tell?)

Okay then; let me see. Oh yes, right. Last night I was looking forward to beginning a new book. I’d read the introduction and thought that it was going to be just my cup of tea as it were, that it was something I would enjoy and learn from.

Anyway, as I opened the book on my tablet, I was suddenly stopped by a sort of wordless warning. The sense I had was that this book would indeed be a little piece of the answers I’ve been seeking.

Not so much in the contents I felt, it was more about approaching the book with more openness, less skepticism, more generosity of spirit and mental attitude. And the idea seemed to also include taking these qualities with me later as I thought about what I had read (or was about to read I should say).

You see, being more open, less skeptical, and more generous, come under the umbrella of being nicer. Still given the subject I was about to read about, I was a bit surprised by this ‘warning’.

As it turned out, I finished the entire book, so enthralled was I by the contents. The only things that tested my resolve to ‘be nicer’ was a number of occasions when the author’s worldview and interpretation of events, stretched my patience.

But, I managed. I didn’t become inpatient or outraged or irritable . When threatened by such responses I simply reminded myself that I was reading about another person, and I didn’t have to have an opinion one way or the other about what they believed or how they lived. Not only do I not have to have an opinion, I’m not sure I really have the right to an opinion about someone else’s life at all.

Besides, haven’t I just got through describing how I am myself deeply engaged in a process of self-enquiry? And wouldn’t such a process involve exposing myself to ideas, worldviews, kinds of information, new to me or not in alignment with my own beliefs? Surely bursts of impatience, indignance, judgement, and the like, would close me off in my search for answers?

Anyway, as I said I was so enthralled by the book – my reading informed by a little more generosity, a little less judgement, a renewed attempt at openness – that I finished the book in that one sitting.

Mind you it was only one hundred and something pages long. Still, for me, it was pretty good going.

PS Speed reading wasn’t – isn’t, nor ever will be – a part of my ongoing self-enquiry into the depths of my monkhood. Perhaps I need to add something like ‘Transcend the ego’ to my list.

Slowly & Mindfully: A Reminder

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Among the physical exercises I try to perform on a daily basis, are a couple for strengthening the hips. One of these begins with me standing upright, feet together, eyes level, looking ahead.

Then I swing one leg at a time for ten repetitions in a kind of arc like motion out to side, keeping it level with the side of my body, bringing the leg back to the rest position with feet together. It’s a pendulum motion.

Anyway I’d been merrily going along doing these exercises more or less every day for ages, months really, until one day my partner hermit was watching me, and said:

‘You’re supposed to be doing it slowly and mindfully’. Or words to that effect.

You see I had been quite happy swinging each leg out in turn at a fast pace, kind of like an aerobic sort of thing. Just to get it done if I’m honest. Wrong! Supposed to be slowly and mindfully.

Lift one leg slowly in an arc like motion out to the side of the body. Pay attention to the movement as it’s happening; no need to push the leg out, just lift it to a comfortable position. Just let the arm trail loosely and of its own accord, along with the leg. Then, again slowly and paying attention to the process of the movement, bring the leg back.

And I do have to say there’s been an amazing difference. I can actually feel the muscles working during the exercise, and can sense the minute incremental motion as the leg swings slowly. It’s a way better exercise than it was, and now I wouldn’t do it any other way.

I was reminded of this incident this morning as I came across a short admonition, a little reminder to myself I have stuck on a Table of Contents page in my Bhagavad Gita.

Go slowly and mindfully in everything

What’s interesting is that, despite seeing and reading this so-called reminder more or less every day, and despite proofs of the benefits of actually listening to the reminder, such as what I’ve just described with the exercise , the reminder seems to mostly go right over my head, in one ear and out the other as they say.

Today, for some mysterious reason, it actually got my attention. At the same time, again who knows why, it triggered a truly relevant and appropriate memory to act as a kind of metaphor to illustrate the point to me.

I suppose it’s stating the obvious, but I can say that doing that (or any) exercise slowly and mindfully – in a watchful and observant manner – acts as an exercise in presence. Otherwise I’d not be sensing or feeling the muscles and the movement, or the peace of no random thoughts.

Did I mention that, having corrected my modus operandi with that particular exercise , I’m feeling the benefits? It definitely feels like things with legs and hips are loosening up, getting stronger. I’m actually walking further now without my legs aching on me.

More than that, I actually find myself wanting to do the exercise as opposed to ‘wanting to get it done’. Why is this? Well, I think it’s because I’m yearning to rediscover that feeling of presence; it’s a bit like a meditation, and in the same way clears the mind of random thoughts – at least for the short duration of the exercise. Having said that, even a short duration clarity plays its part in reconditioning a stubborn mind.

So, mental clarity, good exercise for the body, for the heart, even the soul?I think it’s the perfect metaphor for how I aspire to be living my life.

Slowly and mindfully.