Surrender is a key issue for our community of Hermits. Surrender in the sense of, to put it really simply, how to just go with the flow; how to recognise that the universe moves as it does, and how might we fully realise that while we do what we can, playing our part, in the final analysis, life unfolds as it does.
Like I guess, most people we often have trouble accepting the so-called realities of life like bodily changes, world events that sadden, shock or outrage us. You know what I’m talking about. We just like stuff to work out just as we would prefer, and when it doesn’t? Well that’s when we suffer; we get angry, frustrated or sad or otherwise affected emotionally and even physically. Again you know what I mean.
Courtesy of our resident artist
‘The will of God’ or ‘the will of the Universe’ are common recommendations for surrendering to. But of course ‘God’ or the ‘Universe’ have no will of their own; it simply is what it is, and follows the laws of nature, the natural order of life the Universe and everything as has been famously said time and again.
So, a small poetic offering on just that theme of surrender. This time asking: surrender to whom or to what? The answer I come up with is perhaps not as far out as it might first appear when you read it. Maybe we’ll do a post looking more deeply at that one.
Anyway, please accept my small offering.
WE SHALL SURRENDER UNTO WHOM?
To whom, or to what shall we surrender? We are hermits; we dwell in a hermitage. Here are our cells, our Paradise. A walled enclosure unto which we may surrender.
I feel like talking more … Sorry. Start again. It’s not what it seems and, well rather than get into it now, just read on a bit and all shall become clear.
Anyway, there’s an old joke that goes like this: One friend says to another friend: ‘How come you’re always talking to yourself?’ To which the second friend replies: ‘Well, you see, I always like to talk to the most intelligent person in the room, so I look around and usually I find that it’s me. So I end up talking to myself’.
Okay, maybe not so funny. Could be taken as bad manners or rude come to think of it. But that’s how jokes often are isn’t it?
Anyway, and here we get to the little bit of clarity I promised, you’re probably going to remind me that I have often said I would like to talk less, and be quiet more often.
That’s still true, but this is different. You see, lately I’ve been feeling the need to talk more about various aspects of my ‘inner life’. You know the sort of thing: confusions and worries; niggling issues bugging me; that kind of stuff.
And my community hear and experience quite enough of my inner life, with its contradictions, mood swings, and the rest; I have no intention of being more of a burdon than I probably already am.
So, I look around and ask who’s left? Me! Myself! I! Not exactly the most intelligent person in the room, so there the joke breaks down, but it does indeed look like I might end up talking to myself after all.
Well, it’s kind of a yes and no sort of thing. ‘Myself’ is the individual with this mind and body, making these words appear on the screen. It’s the ego self, the me that’s the being who walks, talks, breathes, and … Well you know what else.
But, and this is the brilliant bit, if I separate the words to read My Self, will it’s a whole other story. For a start, Self is not ‘mine’. Self is that part of me that is consciousness; and it’s not a different entity than ‘your’ consciousness, or anyone or anything else’s.
So, if I start talking to this Self that’s actually anyone and everyone, and not just me, who is it that I am in fact talking to?
Sounds to me like I’d be talking to you, and you, and everyone else; to the trees, the birds; everybody!
And yes, that’s exactly right. For me, there is only Self – consciousness – that is indeed anyone, anything, everyone, and everything in the Universe, both seen and unseen.
In other words, I’d be talking to God; the Divine; the Absolute Reality; the Thou Art That described by at least one of the world’s great spiritual traditions.
Which is to say, I want – need – to spend some more time talking to, and in conversation with, God.
Phew. I’m glad I figured that out.
You might remember the prayer I wrote a while ago to the Divine Mother? Seems like a good place to share it with you again.
Lately I’ve been dwelling on thoughts and other mind stuff. A lot, and in both senses: mind stuff won’t leave me alone; and the nature of that mind stuff has had me thinking about it all, as well.
Of course, it’s the way mind works – especially as one makes the effort to calm the mind, still the thoughts and move beyond them to that little place of stillness and silence. It seems the more one practises, the more mind works hard on keeping one thinking, distracted, absorbed in memories and fantasies; anything but still and quiet.
And, in recent times, I’ve come to understand how and why the Desert Fathers and the Desert Mothers spoke of these mind activities as ‘demons’ who came to tempt, torment, distract and disturb.
The memories, thoughts, fantasies, fears plaguing me lately have been like that – extreme, upsetting, disturbing. All making me long for the good old days of simple day to day ‘distractions’.
So, here’s a weird thing: Yesterday, when once again sitting for meditation, I realised that yes indeed, those good old days had returned. Thoughts and memories had taken on a lighter tone – even running a Star Trek episode in my mind. Mind you, there are some that might say that this is very deep meditation material.
Still all the ‘what ifs’, the ‘should haves’, and the rest, but not so heavy, not so frightening or depressing. I was more or less welcoming the light relief.
Then it occured to me with a shock: I had fallen for a sneaky mind trick. Welcoming the relief as I just said, I wasn’t being so firm in my efforts to still these kindler and gentler, not so threatening thoughts as I had when the ‘demons’ had come calling.
So, mind with its wiley ways figured I was an easier target for distraction. No need now for extreme measures.
Well, dear mind of mine, I have woken up to your sneaky little strategy. I’d like to have you as my friend – as you most certainly are a great deal of the time – but if you want to play the old demon game, then I am going to have to try just that much harder to ignore you.
Actually, no. No trying. Despite your determined efforts dear mind, and your ever-changing strategies to keep me off balance, I will simply be here. Being still. Not disturbed.
Varuna and Surya. the Hindu deities of sky and all Earth’s waters (Varuna), and our sun (Surya). These names resonate for me. I like how such great natural phenomena fundamental to our existence on this planet, can be ‘personalised’ in this way.
I find that having acquired symbolic or representational names for sky, water, and sun, has allowed me to somehow relate to the inherent giving and preserving of the energies that power all life that water, sky, and sun provide in a prayerful, thankful way. Kind of makes it personal.
Let me put aside for a moment the obvious scientific reality that tells us we can’t live long without water, can’t live at all without the gases in our atmosphere, and if the sun goes dark for whatever length of time it is, then all life ceases to exist.
How many times have I stood in awe watching a sunset?
Or watched as big waves rolled in with a surfer hoping for a ride?
How many times have I welcomed the sound of rain on a roof and the sight of it nourishing trees or other life
And how many times have I sat on or walked along a riverbank feeling uplifted and a little more grounded?
Many, many times is the short answer. Varuna and Surya are constant presences in our lives. And I am grateful for the life-giving and life-sustaining natures of their existence.
Sharing with you today, a little poetic expression of one of those times when sky, water, and sun, gave me just a little more than those fundamental material energies.
ONCE AGAIN VARUNA AND SURYA
Once again, Varuna and Surya are coming to make rescue. They arrive on – as in fact they are – the currents and eddies of the river of life. In this way, the natural order remains in motion.
Shared with love
from Paul the hermit
Flow river go, past the shady tree. Flow river flow, flow to the sea. Flow river flow, flow to the sea.
Thanks to Roger McGuinn for one of the classic flowing on a river songs.
Anyone who has tried to meditate for more than a minute, knows very well that the mind right away jumps into overdrive, trying its hardest to keep us nice and distracted; anything but quiet and peace is the mind’s aim. Speaking for myself, all I want to do is get rid of that mind altogether.
But, I know, that would be a mistake. I may not like how my mind behaves sometimes, but I do actually quite like having one, a mind that is. I guess, for me, it’s about realising that my mind is here to stay, and can be either my friend or my foe.
Trouble is, when trying to meditate, I can easily believe it’s my worst enemy. Another mistake, I think, that arises from a not so discerning attitude to the thoughts that flood in seemingly at random.
But, sometimes in that quiet and still space – and even if that quiet and peaceful space hasn’t yet been reached – a thought comes from the mind friend, not the foe. It seems I must learn discernment. Here’s a good example.
Not long into my meditation earlier today, but already bombarded with random thoughts, memories, and other distractions to said peace and quiet, an idea came that just caught my attention. Suddenly, there seemed to be a full-blown idea for what sounded like a great blog post.
I din’t have this notebook with me, and though I had my phone handy, I thought, no, be firm, don’t let interruptions in. Of course, I thought that I’d remember the idea, but sure enough, I didn’t. Now, it’s nowhere to be found. I mean it must be in some tiny neuron in my brain, but it’s hiding pretty well!
Later, after my meditation session, I thought to myself, how come I could make a list of all the less than useful thoughts, memories, ideas and random mental craziness that tried its best to keep me distracted, yet I have no idea what that one wonderful blog post idea was?
I think it might possibly be about attachment; a lesson I’m giving myself in discerning between what thoughts are from my friend mind which ones from my foe mind, the mind running wild with its accomplice, my ego.
It’s a lesson I badly need, I think. Endless thoughts of little or no use to me have stayed, while the one that might have been helpful is gone, seemingly forever.
Yes indeed. Perhaps ny perspective on what ideas ad thoughts are useful to me and what ones aren’t, needs to be contemplated upon.
Actually, it’s not really needing a lot of contemplation: I mean, the one idea I thought would be great is gone. But looking at it the other way around, the fact that the great pile of not so good thoughts staying with me has given us this post I am now writing, and you are reading.
Perspective. It’s all about perspective. And discernment.
Reaching for freedom is what I called this photograph that I made today. But, is it really? I mean is the plant actually in reality ‘reaching for freedom’?
Well, thus far, science can only tell us something like: This plant is programmed by its DNA to grow upwards towards the light.
Another climbing plant, in another place. Kind of looks like a painting, but it’s real
True, of course, but, here in this scene, that one shoot in the centre does appear to be reaching for the chair leg – perhaps for support? It’s quite common for me to see plants using all kinds of supports to do their upward growing (think Ivy on a wall). I think that in a few weeks, that tiny shoot might just be half way up that chair leg – or maybe higher!
So, as I came across this little scene, I questioned. No, questioned isn’t the right word. When I saw this reaching happening only a day after placing that plant pot in that spot, I made a declarative statement: I said, ‘There is an intelligence at work here.’
Am I saying that this little plant has a brain that is continually figuring out strategies for the plant’s growth and other behaviours?
Am I saying that there is a ‘god’ up there in some heavenly domain who is in charge of getting plants down here on Earth to grow in the right direction?
No, to both questions. I don’t and can’t accept either of these supposed ‘possibilities’.
But, are there some kind of universal laws that regulate and control how the Universe flows, behaves, evolves and the rest? More likely I think.
Again I am not suggesting there is some kind of controlling ‘entity’ separate from the material universe, or a supercomputer somewhere that’s running the whole thing. More a kind of energy or essence that’s built into all material things, and that is an element of the very existence of things.
A regulatory principle, I guess you could call it. But not some imposed or externally dictated regulations, laws, or controls. I think it’s more natural than that: existence is its own regulator and controller. Or so it seems to me in my good moments – such as when I witnessed this unfolding and evolving life drama.
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.
There, dear friends, right there, in the title are our next two W questions, as well as the answers to both.
The answer is brief, succinct, right to the point, yes indeed. But somehow to me it doesen’t seem very helpful, a bit vague.
Here and now. Let’s look at this tricky little phrase. On the face of it Here and Now has an obvious meaning: if we choose to think on it in the spirit of our ongoing contemplation on my prayer life, it’s very clear. Here and now is a timely reminder to me to pray right where I am, right now, wherever I might be; and whatever the time, day or night.
But it’s not really a very satisfying answer is it? Here and Now? It seems too flippant to me, too bland, even a bit of a ‘catch all’ cliche thrown around without any real insight into its meaning or importance.
Anyway, moving right along …
We are exhorted to pray without ceasing in the Christian Bible with similar exhortations found in so many other texts and scriptures from many faith traditions.
Remember my aspiration to make of my life a prayer? Well, that’s the idea: to pray without ceasing. Which translates to mean that everything I do, say, think, feel (what else?) will be prayer – or I can also say a prayer. Life is a prayer, life is lived as a prayer.
Of course the precise forms my prayer takes are – and will ever be – many and varied. We’ll be looking at some of those forms and types later in the How post of this series. But, for now, allow me to brainstorm on the topic for a bit.
Consider washing the dishes, a task we all find ourselves engaged in to some degree or other. I have a sense that my feelings towards dish washing is actually quite neutral. Don’t get me wrong: if I never had to wash a dish again you would not hear me complain.
At the same time, I have absolutely no hard feelings against washing dishes.I just get on with it, just like most everybody else.
Sticking with dish washing …
Most often dishes need washing as a consequence of preparing, cooking, and eating food, for a meal or meals. Right there is an obvious opportunity for a simple prayer of gratitude.
It might be a simple whispered thank you for the gifts of the nourishment, satisfaction, even pleasure of the meal. Anyway, just a random first thought on the subject.
There are a few other points to be made in our little dish washing thought exercise as it fits into my own prayer life.
Sometimes, while actually dish washing and cleaning up, I might chant mentally, or otherwise pray with words – set prayers. Prayers of praise or gratitude; mainly whatever pops into mind. Go with the flow is the theme here.
Now, that’s one thought. Next: I might decide to be quiet while washing up. That is not speaking and being as silent inside as I can be.
On these occasions I just focus as intently as I can on what I’m doing: washing dishes. I make it an occasion for not doing the dishes just to get them done, or to get them out of the way, or to put an end to an onerous chore.
Rather, it’s more an opportunity to simply wash the dishes, by being with the dishes and the actions required to clean them. Just a little aside: this particular form of mindful (prayerful) dish washing actually results in cleaner dishes. It’s been proven scientifically.
These two approaches to washing dishes – not to mention all the other means and forms of prayer – are not necessarily mutually exclusive, nor are they the only one: a given dish washing event might involve several prayer modes.
Which leads me to the next thought that I had more or less forgotten…
Sometimes I do indeed slip into that old ‘Just get the blank blank things done’ frustration mood. And it doesn’t just happen when faced with the dishes!
It goes without saying that I wouldn’t need an aspiration if I was already acting full time in that prayerful manner. I do practise – sometimes with more determination than others – performing all my actions mindfully (aka prayerfully), though there’s far to go for me in the praying ceaselessly department.
So, to a good question you may be asking: Is there somewhere (or multiple somewheres) that I go to to pray? Some special sacred or holy place?
Well, I know that we are always all of us standing on sacred ground – it is all the Divine. Still, there are places that help me, all of us, feel closer to that divinity, to the sacred, to God, or whatever we call it.
There are places that exude that special vibe, or have a certain atmosphere of calm, quiet, or stillness, that are conducive to prayer.
An apparently random glance skyward blessed me with this moment and this place of prayer
Talking about the idea that we are always standing and walking on sacred ground, there are often places I come across that speak to me as places of prayer. It might be a tree, like the one pictured here; it might be a distant view of a lake and the hills beyond.
Such places call to me to stop. Perhaps for a moment, perhaps to sit and linger and pray with words, or with silence.
In the Hermitage, there is temple, a room we have set aside for that purpose, and no other. From the very first day I set this room aside as a temple, I have felt a stillness there, a tranquil vibe.
Among such spontaneous little moments, there are times I simply stop and stare at a flower, or without thought put my hand on a tree. I will whisper a quiet thank you and a blessing to the Divinity I sense there.
Temples, churches, chapels, prayer rooms, mosques, and other types of sacred sites from andy and all spiritual and religious traditions, attract me as well.
These are all places people have spent time in praying, contemplating their lives and their union with the Divine. All that energy, all that love and devotion has caused an atmosphere of holiness, or sacredness to build up over what can be years, centuries, even millennia, in some places I have prayed.
But, really, when all is said and done, anywhere and anywhen can be and is a place for prayer. Here, in this booth, in the cafe at the lakeshore near the Hermitage, I make these notes in a mood of prayer, a prayer of love and devotion.
Being present, mindful, and prayerful in all I do, that’s my aspiration. Here and Now. Anywhere and anywhen; it’s all prayer.
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.
Notes from the Hermit's Cave 