Category Archives: spirituality

I Confess: I have an Ego

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Today I scrapped a planned post that I’d been meditating on, angsting over, and making notes for, over the last several days. And now, I’m thinking about my reactions to this startling event. Startling in that it’s not as if this is the first time. Not even close. So what’s the situation with this not so rare occurence? Let me try to explain.

To begin, let me say that I haven’t quite subdued my Ego. Not in the sense of both my attachment to my own actions as well as not in my false identification with this body and mind. Both are still going quite strong.

Mind you, having said that I need to be honest and confess that I don’t feel like I’m an ego maniac (in either meaning of the word as I see it).

Stop! Get to the point will you?

Okay sorry. The point is I still get affected by having to dispose of a project I’ve worked long and hard on. There: I’ve said it.

Of course it’s not that such an event bruises my ego (the attachment and ‘pride’ meaning this time). So why? Why does such a thing still get to me? I think it is simply a sense of disappointment that I’ve failed at an endeavour that I had thought important.

Ah, so it is ego then? Yes, I suppose it’s true. Ego and attachment. Both are of the mind and they love playing those old old mind games in which they have the final word.

I’ve written before about my attachment to the desire to write more often, in more quantity , and with more quality. So, no need to revisit that topic. Unless of course you want to.

Anyway, why do I write what and how I do? Why do I publish this blog?

Well, if you have read the Welcome and About the blog page, you will learn that this blog is an element in my ongoing quest to fully realise the oneness of all life – which of course means all of you, me and everything that exists.

Also on that page I think I say that I, as a hermit retreating more and more from the entanglements of the world, nevertheless feels a strong sense that I need to share my life with the world – again, that’s you.

So, my writing is about my life. It’s about me opening up about my experiences, my learnings, my ideas, and any occasional insight I might be blessed with. As well, I write to share my aspirations for, and my reflections on, the spiritual journey – at least my little bit of it.

And I do that by thinking, meditating, sometimes writing then posting the conclusions. Or as happened today, I think, meditate, write, throw away writing, then don’t post.

In a sense there is no need for disappointment when that happens. I’m always aspiring to write from my heart, and share what I hope is in alignment with the Absolute Reality, or if you like, the Divine, or the will of God.

In other more straightforward words what comes out onto the page is supposed to, and, if at some point along the path what emerges ceases to ‘feel right with the Universe’, then throwing it all away is easy and ego and attachment free. Well that’s the theory I’m going to try to work from.

What I’m trying to say is that my writing in general and this blog in particular, is not my property; I don’t own any of it. All of it belongs to that Absolute Reality in the form of the natural order and flowing or unfoldment of the Universe.

Belonging to that Absolute Reality, to the Universe in other words, then it is yours too. Everbody’s and everything’s.
So I thank you for allowing me to share my life with you.

PS If my ego ever pops up again, just ignore it. One day I hope to do just that!

Reflections on a Word

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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

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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

Follow the Way of Love

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Bhakti  – intense devotion – leads to prayerful surrender which clears the mind of thoughts and concerns. Then, meditation is made possible.

            Swami Tadatmananda

A recent favourite quote from my teacher, that is helping me a lot on my own spiritual journey. Wikipedia also describes Bhakti in terms of intense devotion, adding words such as faith, love, homage, worship.

The wonderful Wikipedia also tells us that Bhakti is a term common in Indian religions, which may refer to loving devotion towards a personal god, a formless god or an enlightened being such as Buddha. They add:

Bhakti is often a deeply emotional devotion based on relationship between the devotee and the object of devotion.

Then what of one (AKA me) who at least aspires to see all things – all living and non-living things, all of ‘creation’ – as the Divine? How does a ‘loving devotion’ towards God work when one is striving to fully realise that there is only the Divine?

In my heart I know that all there is is the Divine, or God. Or put another way: it’s not so much that the Divine is in everything, or that everything is divine; the sense I have and aspire to realize completely, is that everything is the Divine. One without a second, the teachers say.

(Just a quick disclaimer: my heart may be telling me that there is only the Divine, but the rest of me still has a lot of catching up to do)

So, how does it work? Well writing it down in words seems to make it sound very simple: if everything is the Divine, is God, then it’s simple logic to assume that devotion to the Divine means having loving devotion towards all and everything; for all of existence, for everything that is. For all of creation as some say.

Simple to say, yes. Not so easy to easy to actually attain such a state. Of course the first thing to say is that it isn’t a state to attain. I am a part (not quite the right word) of that creation, that divinity, and as there is only one without a second, then logic again tells us that I am that creation – just like you and everyone and everything else that exists.

As such, it would seem to be an easy matter of me simply loving myself which automatically includes everyone and everything else in the Universe in that love (note to self: make this little paragraph my new mantra).

Here is where that ‘thoughts and concerns’ thing comes in. We all know how our minds like to interfere and get involved with every little thing. The mind tries to convince us of our separation from other people and the rest of life too, while its ally the ego runs wild convincing us of the urgency of status, of possessing things, of competing (also status isn’t it?), acquiring more stuff and worldly knowledge and power.

The solution? The means to realize one’s love for all? Prayerful surrender – which our quote tells us is acquired through the practice of Bhakti or loving devotion.

But hold on: Isn’t the realisation of our love the very thing we want to achieve? So, we are to use a practice involving love to realize our love?

Ah yes: the means is the end. Now that’s a nice little insight don’t you think? But, still, Bhakti or loving devotion isn’t at all easy, even if you’re talking about a personal God or deity or the Divine; how much harder it is (speaking only for me here mind you) to suddenly love everyone and everything, to suddenly recognise everyone and everything as the Divine. Including, mind you, things and people I don’t like or have a distaste for or aversion towards.

So what I try to do is be open and receptive to things, ideas, concepts, other living beings, that resonate within me as representing the Divine. Then I make those things the objects of my devotion which means my prayers are prayed with a mood of love. Good vibes you see. They spread out like (my partner hermit says) ripples in a pond or even waves in the ocean. No need to think of who or what I don’t like; they’ll be affected by those ripples too.

You’ve read my prayer to the Divine Mother – the embodiment of the Divine qualities of love, nurture, compassion. And soon I hope to post my Prayer of praise and gratitude to Trees. In that prayer I express my love, praise, respect for, and gratitude to, trees.

So many people – even the non-spiritual – view trees as symbols of creation in action, strength, resilience, even compassion and shelter. In other words, the Divine.

To surrender my heart to such representatives of the Divine is my continual effort and prayer. I pray to fully surrender to the natural order and smooth running of the universe, or the Divine.

And that surrender will come through my continuing and growing loving devotion.

Now, the ‘meditation is made possible’ bit? Well we all know what meditation means don’t we? Pretty much as many meanings as there are people meditating (and many who are not!). In this context I think the meditation that’s made possible is more a kind of contemplation leading to a clear comprehension or understanding.

Contemplation of the entirety of the Universe (which includes you obviously) as one whole, undivided expression of love or the Divine.

Comprehension is understanding, in a final, complete truly ‘knowing’ way, that the things of the world – the status, the possessions, wealth, sensual pleasures – are not and never can be the means to attaining perfect peace and happiness.
Of course, the ‘things of the world’ continue to be important. After all, we are (at least our bodies and minds) things of the world too aren’t we?

But that contemplation of the totality as the Divine will help us to reduce our suffering by helping us to reduce our excessive desires or cravings for those worldly things.

I think I mentioned that Bhakti, loving devotion, can be difficult. It’s true it is often hard to focus on love and devotion, to always have your heart available and open. But, you know, it can actually be a very satisfying and enjoyable feeling, and I can say a really nice experience.

So, I hope some of the ripples (and some of the waves too), some of those good good vibes are making themselves known to you.

Thank you and my love to you

Happiness, Freedom & Other Joys VS Anger, Depression & Other Sufferings

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Frustrated, depressed, annoyed, and even angry at times. All because I know for certain sure that it’s God’s will that I write more – as in more often, more volume, and more quality too. And I’ve vowed to do God’s will in all things to the best of my ability.

No, actually those extremely un-monklike emotional reactions are not because of this knowledge of the will of the Universe or my vow to obey; I have those unhappy emotions because of the other vow I’ve yet to mention: I have vowed to find ways to content myself with how the universe unfolds for my life, and for the world.

I’m not saying that I have promised to resign myself to ‘fate’ or ‘destiny’ or whatever one might call it. No. And it’s a big no because while what happens in the material world is working out according to the laws of nature, it’s equally true that I am in that mix: I have my part to play in the universal scheme of things, just like we all do. It’s a matter of I do my bit, and the Universe (or God) does its bit.

And then it struck me. Blew my mind is more like it. All my frustration, depression, anger, and whatever, over not writing to my own desired level, is really nothing more than a raging against God’s will. Needless to say, this reaction is really quite a distance from obedience!

Another thought on the topic of God’s will – the laws of nature and the natural order of the Universe: By obvious definition those laws and order must (obviously again) apply to all things in what we call the Cosmos or Universe.

All material things, such as bodies, as well as non-material things like minds, emotions and the like. You name it; All there is is bound by the same set of natural laws.

So, speaking for myself alone, not being able to write to my expected or desired for level is only one – and quite a minor one it has to be said – of numerous areas in my life and the world that cause me frustration and all the rest, as I struggle to to be content with the will of the Universe.

Too big a topic, or should I say too many topics to get into here. In any case, shall we set aside that not so little aside for now?

So, where were we? Right: Raging against God’s will; resisting the ways in which the natural laws of the universe are working themselves out. Sounds terrible when you see it  writen down like that doesn’t it?

Anyway, it’s clear to me that the Universe , the will of God, is trying to say something to me, which sounds something like this:

‘Look you may very well want to write, you might even be desperate to get those words and ideas out of your head and onto the page, but that’s just not the way things are right now is it?

‘Of course the smooth running of the Universe involves you, and in a big big way too, but you are still just one element in what is really quite a complex, not to mention gigantic, system.’ Nature can put you in your place for sure sometimes.

‘In fact it might be,’ this spokesperson for the Universal order continued, ‘that the Universe is trying to get a none too subtle message across to you? Do you think that desperately clinging to some outcome you want or desire that strongly but can’t seem to get, is causing you pain? Of course it is. Anger, depression, all those sad and negative emotions, they are just not necessary.’

The Universe (in its manifestation as my discursive mind) can be very vocal sometimes, but I think I sort of get it.
Essentially what that Universal spokesperson is saying is that the order of the Universe is working out just as it’s supposed to. Actually it can’t do otherwise. I play my part (which according to the spokesperson is bigger than I imagine), and really that’s all there is to it.

In other words, If I’m not writing, then that is precisely what is supposed to be happening (or not happening) right now. And not only that, but because I am an active participant in the way the Universe looks and behaves right now, then it’s also pretty obvious that I already know – deep down somewhere – that it’s really alright. It’s all just as it’s meant to be.

Once again speaking just for myself, I find it quite tricky finding the balance between what part I am to play, and what’s the Universe’s bit, in controlling the direction my life takes or in affecting the conditions that impact me.

Perhaps the best way, indeed it might be the only way, to have a positive impact on my own happiness, peace, contentment, and having a calm mind, is to give up any desires for things that won’t contribute to my spiritual and personal growth or the wellbeing of other beings, while at the same time acting upon without attachment to the outcomes, those desires that seem to me to be for the good of all, including Self. 

Being attached – driven by compulsions or aversion – to the outcome of our desires, however, simply leads to more desires even when fulfilled.  And when they are not fullfilled, there is suffering due to clinging to those compulsions.

Bottom line? I am seriously attached to my desire to write more (as well as so many other things as I alluded to earlier), that not being able to do that right now is causing a lot of suffering. Enough of that I say! Oh, that balance thing: it’s about discernment isn’t it? Okay I get it, story for another day.

PS I’m so glad I got that all out of my head and onto the page. Thanks for listening friends.

That Which is From the Sea, Shall Return to the Sea

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As I sauntered along the shores of the Ganges River in Rishikesh several years ago, I was given a gift.

In the High Holy Lands Where Magic Sometimes Happens

As I ambled, headed upstream in a relaxed kind of mood on that sandy riverbank, I happened to glance down. There, right at my foot I noticed a small shell. Flat with the stereotypical fan shape so many shells have, and a about a centimetre  across. I picked it up.

At that moment I sensed that this little shell was a gift from the river to me. Still, I had to wonder how it got there, a seashell on the sandy banks of a freshwater river with it’s source not too far from where I stood, just a bit higher up in the Himalayas – the highest mountain range on the surface of the planet.

One possibility is that this shell originated in the sea that once existed in the lands above, where the Himalayas now stand. Mind you, I’ve only ever heard of the fossils of sea creatures being found in that region.

Another possibility suggested to me at the time, is that some other traveller having picked up the shell on a beach somewhere other on their travels, kept it with them till they arrived at this sacred place.

Then, perhaps as an offering that traveller – fellow pilgrim?- let that shell go into the waters of Maa Ganga.

Of course it doesen’t matter in the least which – if either – of these scenarios  reflect what actually happened. Somehow this little shell travelled from an ocean somewhere (and somewhen!) to this precise spot on the banks of the Ganga to be discovered, to be gifted to me.

I received that offering, now a gift from the river to me, with a deep and prayerful thank you, and a sense of the sacredness of that moment and of that place.

And, today, the journey made by that little shell, has come to a kind of full circle. This morning I released it to Varuna, to the sea here on the Pacific Coast at the beach over the dunes from the hermitage.

That initial giving and receiving  took place about eight years ago now and I have that little shell with me ever since.

First I wore it around my neck attached to a mala (prayer beads) made of Rudraksha seeds I used for chanting mantra.

After that, it migrated to another mala – this one made of beads of black volcanic rock, perhaps very fitting given the little shell’s possibly ancient origins.

Then, one day about a year or so ago, that little shell developed a crack and then shattered into several little pieces.

Still, I treasured those remains, those fragment I kept with my other ‘holy bits and pieces’. Then, after a while, I began to get the sense that I was going to have to return this little shell to the sea from where it had come.

I knew, though, that it would have to be the right place, a place I was drawn or led to. So, time passed, we travelled to several different hermitages for about a year.

Then, two days ago, we moved here. To a cozy hermitage on the side of a sand dune, just across a bridge from and on the outskirts of a little seaside town on the Pacific Coast of Australia.

It’s one of those spots where the elevation, distance, and whatever else by nature’s arrangement, all combine in just the right way to allow a vast view that takes the eyes to the curve of Earth herself; the horizon isn’t flat here, it’s a sweeping giant curve. Add to this the equally dramatic view offered by the dome of the sky.

The coast is beautiful here. Not that it’s not special in so many places, but there is something here that speaks to me.

At the top of the dune just beside the hermitage there is an extremely convenient bench seat overlooking the beauty of the ocean.

And it just felt right: here is the place that seeks the return of the remains of that little shell, by now reduced to a couple of small fragments.

So, after a time sitting and contemplating at the above-mentioned convenient seat, I walked down the dune to the beach, and then to the water’s edge. In a mood of prayer, with the edge of the incoming waves lapping at my feet.

After first consigning to the water a shell native to this shore, to show the way to my little shell, I thought of the journey that little shell and I had undertaken together. Then I thought of how far and for how long that little shell had travelled so far on its own journey.

Then I returned what was left of that little shell to the sea from which it had come. And I watched it carried by the waves returning from the sands of the land to waters of the endless ocean.

PS See the Lava Rock Mala? Well, it too has changed form in recent times. It is now no longer a full length neck mala; it has evolved to become a compact and convenient pocket Mala for what you might say is ‘everyday use.

Things of beauty are, like all things made of

material stuff, transient.

Beauty, however, is not

Hiccups on the Road to Enlightenment

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These last couple of days I’ve been getting a good lesson in enlightenment. Wait, that’s a silly thing to say. What I mean is that these last couple of days I’ve been getting a good lesson in what it means to be not enlightened. That’s a bit better I think.

Not that I’m not receiving lessons all the time; the reality of not being enlightened, is that the entirety of one’s life is really one long ongoing lesson.

Anyway, moving right along.

Not our actual hermitage

We’re about to move to another hermitage, to one more safe-haven by the side of the road (in this case a very small, very quiet road). Obviously it’s a process we’ve been through quite a few times. This time, the concept excited us (well it usually does!) and the arrangements began on a smooth and happy note.

But, just as when any of us make a plan, take some action to fulfil that plan, and proceed from a good start, the path forward doesn’t always remain smooth and hiccup free.

And so it is this time with the hermits’ plan to relocate: one or two quite small hiccups have cropped up that we have had no control over.

‘Quite small’ are the key words here: it’s more my reaction to said hiccups that’s the point of this post.

You see, I’m not enlightened, nor am I the toughest kid on the block, and my skin’s not that thick. As well as that I’m no expert at letting things run off me like water off a duck’s back (guess who is a cliché lover?).

You talkin’ ’bout us?

The hiccups under discussion themselves are trivial and as I say out of our hands. As such, they are not especially interesting to talk about.

Getting back to the water off a duck’s back thing: it’s actually a pretty neat description of what occurs when one in enlightened. Just a thought for now.

Contrary to popular myth, being enlightened isn’t a flash or some sort of mystical thunderbolt from heaven or from some other transcendental wherever, a flash that leads to bliss ongoing, superhuman or magical powers; It doesn’t render the enlightened one an intellectual or any other kind of giant.

And right to the point, being enlightened will not protect the enlightened one from the normal, natural apparently real troubles, ups and downs, pain, illnesses, sorrow and grief, and all the rest of being a physical creature living in a physical world.

What enlightenment does mean – in my interpretation at any rate – is the enlightened one is able to let these perfectly normal problems, hurts, pain, illness, and so on, (Oh the joy of repeating a great cliché) to roll off them like water off a duck’s back.

Of course the enlightened ones still experience the pain, the sadness, grief, the disappointments and so on; it’s just that those ones have attained to the knowledge – been enlightened to -that none of those things can really hurt them.

Sure they are still there, the pains in the body, the sadness or whatever in the mind. But the real us – the true Self that is the consciousness that witnesses all that’s going on in our lives right now – is unaffected.

That true Self, that Consciousness, is constant, it is and has always been existent and unchanging. All those pains in our bodies, those emotions, distress and the rest in our minds, will pass; they aren’t permanent. However that Self, that ‘I’ won’t pass, and it is permanent.

Anyway, back to the current topic. What happened to me was this: the hiccups refered to were minor – less than trivial in the context of the ‘real world’ – yet the disappointment resulting from one, and the annoyance coming from the other, were profound.

An enlightened person might say ‘That was disappointing.’ Or, ‘That was annoying.’ But me? Well I sank into a pit of negative emotions and negative (to put it mildly) thinking. I may as well have declared: ‘I am disappointment embodied.  I am annoyance itself.’

Look dear reader, this was supposed to be a fairly light, quick telling of me reminding myself that the pains, sorrows and other stuff of the world can’t hurt me. That ‘me’ is the Self I talked about earlier, the ‘I’ who is, as I said, the witness to my experience here and now.

So, in conclusion as they say, all there’s left for me to say (in this post at any rate) is that I am most definitely not enlightened. Having said that, I wouldn’t say that I’m completely unenlightened. There was a time (a long stretch of time) when, far from letting things roll off me like water off a duck’s back, they very often overwhelmed and threatened to drown me.

Of course there is a lot more to be said on the subject of enlightenment. Suffice it to say that it is my dream and deep, deep aspiration to one day, one life (if there is indeed another one waiting for me) to get there, to realise enlightenment.

As The Seekers used to sing:

Some day, one day
time’s not so far away.

PS There is no need to worry. I feel a bit better now. I managed to gain a little perspective, a truer perspective. In fact gaining perspective is an important step on the path to enlightenment. The tricky thing about perspective though is hanging onto it once it’s been gained.

Bushland Contemplation

Salute to the Sun

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Namaste

In today’s post I’d like to share with you a photo. Actually, I share photos with you in just about every post don’t I? In fact, for me sharing photos (the vast majority of the ones I post on this blog are made by me.) is a really special and important element of my spiritual practice.

As is the actual making of them. My camera is – I think has always been – a tool for contemplation. Essentially, I wander around with my camera ready, my eyes open to see and receive, and with my heart and mind open. These last two are in the ‘much as I can’ category, but really that’s what I try to achieve: a kind of open, receptive, presence.

Then, sometimes, my eyes, mind, and heart all sort of see the same thing at the same time, or something draws my attention, or an insight dawns. Then, I raise my camera to my eye and the picture is made.

Anyway, let’s back to the topic. This isn’t a post about Contemplative Photography. My intention today is to share this photo with you.

It’s called At a Time of Prayer, and from the moment my senses, mind and heart too, coalesced to cause me to raise my camera to my eye and make the photo, it’s had a unique or special resonance for me.

And not only me: The photo has gone viral here at the hermitage, appearing on phone screens and tablet desktops and lock screens. And it appears very often in my thoughts and prayers, my contemplations and even in conversations.
Perhaps you will allow me to share the little story behind this image as well as a possible explanation for its hermitage wide fame, favour, and love.

About a month ago I was walking along the lake front in the seaside town hosting the hermits at the moment, heading home after a long walk. I was listening to and chanting a favourite mantra (one about removing obstacles).

Absorbed in the music and the vibe of the mantra, I looked up – seemingly at random – and saw, well what you see in the photo. Without thought or hesitation and simply instinctively, I raised my camera to make the picture.

Ah yes, I see what you mean. You are quite right, I can’t exactly say I saw the scene in tones of grey, not technically. Though the camera did actually see and record it in monochrome. Let me explain.

You see, sometimes I switch my camera to only make black and white photographs, with the intention of shifting my way of looking and seeing the world around me. It’s always amazing to me how differently I start seeing things, once I get used to the change. I never get tired of it really. Like magic!

Anyway, once I lowered my camera, I said a prayer to Surya,  the divine in the form of the sun.

Everyday, each morning when I first get up, I go to a window in the hermitage that faces the rising sun. I give thanks and praise for the life given and sustained by the sun; I praise its beauty too and give thanks for its light and warmth. Today, although the cloud is mostly covering the sun, I know it is still there and still shining, giving us all life.

Okay, back to the moment of the making of the picture. It was after my small prayer – my Surya Namaskar –  my salute to the Sun – that the name of the photo came to me: At a Time of Prayer.

That made sense to me: I was already praying before I made the photo, then after it was made, I once more said a prayer. It truly was a time of prayer.

Now, the big question: Why has this particular photo had such an impact here in this haven of the hermits? Why, even now, do I find it a really appealing focus for contemplation?

Despite it being a dramatic photograph of start contrasts between light and dark, it seems to me to exude a kind of serenity. Perhaps it’s precisely the balance of those contrasts that makes for a peaceful easy feeling in what otherwise might not be seen as a quiet and calm image.

And it may be just that serenity arising due to that balance that contributes to the sense I get when looking at the photo: All is well.

All is Well. Why sense that in particular? Perhaps because I was there at the time. Perhaps because I was praying, looked up at just that moment and all my senses led me, along with my camera, to make the picture.

And in a sense, it’s a moment I can relive and remem ber through the photo, especially given the prayerful, contemplative mood in which it was made. At that moment of making it did indeed seem that All’s well.

And now? I know that All is well, all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well (paraphrasing and with thanks to Julian of Norwich.)

There is too, the power and light of the sun illumining life, which here is represented in the form of the towering Pine Tree.

Yes, I sense that balance again. A kind of harmony also. This time between life itself and that which enables and supports life. It is good to contemplate balance and harmony.

Anyway, a gift given to me, now shared with you.

The Hermit Contemplates His Shadow

Silence Is!

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Everyday I affirm, I pray with longing and with hope, these words:

Let me keep silence in this world

Some days, like today for instance, the prayer feels empty, devoid of any hope, or faith on my part, that I will at some point really be able to attain at least a degree of silence.

Yes, I know, prayer is not some kind of magic formula by which one utters the words of the prayer as in some kind of incantation, then in due course that which has been prayed for appears or comes to pass as if by magic.

Prayer, rather, is affirmation in which the one praying places full attention on the words prayed and their meanings. And more importantly on the notion that the Universe is in perfect balance all of the time, and that things – all things  – are manifesting how and where and when and why, and in precisely the manner that they’re supposed to.

Prayer is more a kind of wake-up call, a reminder notification to Self that everything is exactly as it is, and is meant to be that way.

Fine theory. Yet it’s a theory I sometimes know to be much more than a theory.

Other times, this being one of those times, I have a hard time, or I should say my mind can’t accept that silence does indeed exist. My mind is simply not able to grasp that silence is already within me, ready and able to give me peace.

Closed Cafe at the End of Lonely Street: Silence comes in many and varied forms

It is obvious to all of us I think, that silence is not simply the mere absence of words, of speech. Not talking is simply one aspect of silence; it’s like silence is a thing, an entity or state of being that doesn’t only imply an absence but suggests an adding on of a new state of being.

When I pray Let me keep silence, it is true that I am seeking the silence of the mind, the inner silence that can bring calm and quiet to the heart and whole of Self too. But, to be truly upfront as they say, it is the silence or quiet that emerges from time spent not speaking that I long for.

Long for? I use that word quite often and it’s occured to me that, while to long for something is to have a desire for that thing, a longing is actually more than a simple desire. It’s a very strong desire, a kind of desperate wanting or wishing for that thing. You might even call it a compulsion.

Now I think about it, what is the desire or drive that keeps me doing exactly the opposite? Why do i feel the need to be talking (thinking too, but here I’m thinking about talking too much) all the time? It is clearly also a compulsion. That’s the only conclusion I can come to.

So then, why the compulsion to talk all the time?

Well, to once again be frank, upfront, I don’t really care about the reasons for or causes of, this compulsion. Probably stems from deep-seated anxiety, long-standing low self-esteem, old habits, fear. The list of explanations could go on and on, but what would be the point of that?

The real point, for me, is that compulsive talking is no mere bad or inconvenient habit. Personally it can actually cause physical symptoms of the ‘feeling sick’ variety, as well as guilt, shame, even sadness and regret.

And even far worse still is that this compulsion causes at the very least for those around me annoyance and frustration. Incessant talking distracts them from their own thoughts and activities, disturbs their own desire for silence. It’s all very obvious to me.

So, while I am compelled to talk all the time and too much, at the same time I have a strong aversion to that very act of talking too much (and all the time). The talking too much causes suffering to myself and others, while my inability to change also causes suffering. A kind of no-win situation arises, has risen, is always present.

Okay then, what is the solution? Or, more to the point,is there a solution? Well, I didn’t start making these notes with the hope that I would somehow come up with a solution to this dilemma . But, having said that, I’ve been thinking while writing that I do seem hugely attached to the idea that I talk too much, and too often. 

As well, I also seem desperately  attached to the desire to stop talking so much and so often.

While doing all this (possibly excessive) thinking, I was reminded that the Buddha didn’t say that the cause of suffering is desire; what he said was (allow me to paraphrase): the cause of suffering is attachment to  desires.)

You know, another thing I write and think of a lot, is the idea that things work out exactly as they’re meant to. Of course not so easy to actually believe all the time, especially when things aren’t going according our personal wants, desires, and wishes. But it’s another of the prayers if you like, the affirmations which speak of the truth of the balance of the workings of the Universe.

In a way then, despite the lack of intention, I may have nevertheless stumbled upon at the very least a hint of a solution to my dilemma.

We ourselves are merely one more manifestation or result of those workings of the Universe, of that natural order, of those laws of nature that keep it all (including us) in motion.

So, I’m back where I started when I described what I believe prayer to be: an affirmation and a statement of faith in the reality that the Universe is unfolding exactly as it should.

Perhaps if I spent more time (not to forget more heart, more mind, more love) in reminding myself of that reality, and less in toying with my compulsions and aversions and with all my efforts to shift and maneuver the natural order of things to my liking, then I might find that equilibrium , that – what’s the word? – equipoise – in which I may actually realise the balance that I know already and always exists. Maybe then I can finally attain silence.

Deep with the still centre of my being,
may I find peace.

Silently within the silence of the grove,
may I share peace.

Gently & powerfully within the greater circle of humankind,
may I radiate peace.

Just a quick final note: my idea that the universe is working out exactly as it’s supposed to is not mine and it’s not new. I’ve quoted the beautiful poem/prayer Desiderata (the word is from Latin for things desired) before, but there’s a line from it that I’ve borrowed heaps of times:

No doubt the Universe is unfolding as it should


Thank you for allowing me the privilege of sharing all of this, which is really one long prayer, with you.

A Little Ode to Vincent: A Poem & more

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Way back long ago in late 2014 I wrote a poem. Which as a stand alone statement is hardly cause for excitement on any level I can think of.

Except to say that in that poem I expressed much of what I felt (and still feel all these years later, perhaps more so) about Vincent Van Gogh. I called it A Little Ode to Vincent, because it was a kind of love song, a celebration of Vincent and an affirmation of my reverence for that great one.

Anyway, I was reading some old poems last night and I came across A Little Ode to Vincent. I checked to see if I’d shared it with you on this blog at some point, but to my surprise I found that I hadn’t. Which is very nice for me, because I get to share it with you now.


There it is then. Thank you for allowing me to share it with you. There isn’t a word I’d change if I were writing it now.

While looking through my blog checking for this poem, I came across two posts from 2022 which mention Vincent. Well, one is about a book I’d read on his spirituality and his quest to lead a compassionate life. Have a look at the beginning of that post and what I wrote about that book:

I still remember the book and its impact on me vividly. Please read the post Van Gogh Mystic & Saint, and if at all possible read the book. In fact I’m going to try to track it down and read it again, or at least do some Googling on the topic.

The other post I wrote at around the same time isn’t about Vincent directly, but it does open with a quote from him, and he’s referred to throughout the post. Here’e the opening section:

Again, please take the time to read it. It’s called The Pilgrims’ Way, and I think it makes a very nice sibling post for that first one I’ve linked to.

I hope you found the little Ode of mine satisfying. I have always had great reverence for Vincent, and after reading the book about his spirituality, I was even more deeply attracted to the man, the artist, and the mystic saint that was Vincent Van Gogh.

There’s nothing more genuinely artistic than to love people.

Vincent Van Gogh