One, Without a Second, is All There Is

Right at the front of my Bhagavad Gita (the only book aside from the notebook I’m writing this in, that I personally own), I have recorded and inserted sayings and various words , that are important to me. Among those things is a statement I first heard many many years ago, that is common among the First Nations’ peoples of this country:

I [We] stand always on sacred ground and beneath sacred skies.


It is not an affirmation of ownership or possession. It is, instead, an affirmation of belonging to the land, to nature. It is a prayer of thanks, and it is a declaration of the knowledge of unity with the rest of the natural world, that is the hallmark and foundation for Indigenous cultures throughout the world and through time.

I’ve valued – treasured – this sentiment for a very long time – probably from even before I first heard it, which was so long ago as to be lost to memory. Perhaps I always knew it because I’ve somehow always thought this idea was a fundamental truth concerning my existence as a being living on this planet.

Well, now I have heard another statement that for me makes a perfect compliment for this one. The other day, during a lecture, my teacher mentioned that in his student days a fellow student said:

Wherever you are, you are walking through Ishwara

(Ishwara being her preferred name for the divine – for all that is.)

There is a feeling or sense of ‘belonging’, of awe and wonder when we attempt to immerse ourselves in what we term the natural world.

Once again I immediately felt the bell of Truth ringing clearly through this statement. Yes, I thought, everything is divine – including our own selves – so of course it follows that wherever we go, whatever we do, we are always in the divine.

You’ve probably read a number of times me quoting my teacher quoting his teacher:

It’s not that there is only one God, there is only God.
          Swami Dayananda Saraswati

Emphasis very much on only. Meaning of course, that it’s not that God is within us, or that we are within God; we are not surrounded by God; and it’s not that God ‘sits in our hearts’. The reality (for my teacher’s teacher) was that all that is, everywhere, everything, every thought, every word and deed, everything there is, is the divine.

Another way to describe the divine or God, that appeals to me is that Ishwara (also my own preferred name for the Divine) is in reality the natural order of the universe as dictated by the laws of nature. Those laws of nature, the rules that govern how the universe works, are also Ishwara, as are all that is manifest or in existence  as a consequence of the workings of those laws.

In other words, the Divine is the sum total of what some would call the entirety of creation.***

For the hermits a sacred site. Part of a grove we named The Sentinels. A place of experience of unity and oneness of creation

For me this an enormously comforting and reassuring concept. Of course, for me at least, it is also an extremely difficult one to wrap my head around. But here’s a small summary of what I think I’ve grasped so far.

Ishwara – the Divine – is all there is; everything. Also divine is the natural order of the Universe as governed by the laws of nature. These laws are neither good or bad – there is no duality. They are neutral.

You and I, as one more entity among who knows how many others, act as we do and are subject to the laws of nature, just like everything else. We can’t change or influence those laws; we can only live our lives as they unfold.

To quote from Desiderata: No doubt the Universe is unfolding as it should

And, well, then things just work out as they do. While we can’t change the laws of nature, or bend the universe to always suit our liking, it is also true to say that every action we take, every thought we think, every word we utter, even our very presence as a living being in our time and place, do indeed contribute to ‘how things work out’. Another way of saying this is to say, we do our bit, and the universe does its bit and what happens, well, happens.

For me, this is not at all as simple or as straightforward as it sounds. Naturally  we see ourselves as individual selves, as entities on our own. After all, to state the obvious, we live and operate in a material (dualistic) world. So automatically we see ourselves as individuals living in, but always separate from all the other individual entities, as well as being disconnected from the world itself.

It is part of human nature (for the most part) to long for connection; there is so often a drive within us pushing us to create family, enter relationships, feel we belong to a community or communities, and for many but not all, there is the almost instinctive urge to seek connection with the rest of nature.

Many forms, One reality

We often think of these longings as goals to achieve, as something outside of ourselves to attain, to reach for. Consequently, so very often we tend to focus our attention outwards, towards other people, or material things.

But, instead, all these inclinations, desires and longings are simply our Self (note the capital?) endeavoring to open itself to discovering (or rediscovering?) that which already exists: our oneness with, and our non-separation, and non-difference from, The All That Is.

Peace and Love from Paul the Hermit

FOOTNOTE

***Just a few thoughts about naming, or giving labels to the Universe and its laws.  Obviously it’s a personal choice for each of us what we choose to call that creation. Then, on the other hand, we don’t have to call it anything at all. For me personally it is very difficult, even near impossible to not name it. By naming the creation, I don’t think I am attributing the manifestation of the Universe to some distant entity living in some heavenly abode (as my teacher likes to say). Rather I am acknowledging the intelligence  and order, beauty, complexity of all that is and how it all works, as its own reality. At the same time, I am learning to understand that I as my true nature am not separate from the rest of creation, and I feel the need to have a name towards which I am able to focus my thanks and my reverence.

Wear the Tender Miracles: When a Magpie Sings

Wear the Tender Miracles

What a beautiful expression, I thought when I first heard this said a couple of weeks ago.

I’m not sure who said it, but that’s not so important. And  I thought isn’t quite right either. My reaction was more from the heart than the head; more visceral, more ‘real’ somehow than something concocted by the mind.

Now we’ve dealt with one of the ‘w’ questions writers so love, there is another that’s important to ask at this stage: What does this fantastic sentence actually mean?

Naturally I’d had this question from the beginning as well, but despite it going round in my mind almost like a mantra, I don’t think I’ve quite worked it out yet. Perhaps a part of the reason for this failure is the nature of my reaction when first hearing it that I mentioned above: My reaction was one of the heart, not of the mind, so harder to look at analytically.

Still, the emotions and even the (spiritual) heart itself originate in the mind. So, let me share with you what I’ve come up with so far.

Wear the tender miracles. It seems to be a very straightforward sentence. But is it merely a well-intentioned piece of advice? Is it more a spiritual injunction? Well, as I thought about it, I realised it was in fact both.

Certainly it feels like good advice – though before we can finally decide that, we need to work out the meaning and intent of the words we have. Mind you having said that, I have to say it resonates with me as something one might hear from a spiritual director, or read in a sacred text of some kind.

So, what exactly are tender miracles? Are they soft and gentle, happy happenings that come from some place ‘out of the ordinary’?

You know, in my Contemplative Photography practice and in my earlier Street Photography days, I had a few maxims that I worked by and tried to live by. One of those maxims was: There is no such thing as ordinary. Which is another way of saying that there is nothing that is not extraordinary, and therefore out of the ordinary.

Photo by data9090 on Freeimages.com

Just now there are several Magpies making beautiful melodies outside the hermitage. I know very well that these vocalizations that for this particular species represent an expression of biological and or evolutionary impulses or drives.

But, is that all there is to it? I don’t think so. As I listen, I smile. And my heart feels something. I sense beauty, and realise that I am receiving a gift; you might even say it’s a miracle.

Biological imperative or tender miracle? Why can’t it be both?

How many times a day do we experience or encounter ‘little things’, that appear ordinary, but are hardly noticed (or not noticed at all?) in our hurried and harried lives? Yet, anyone of those little things may be a tender miracle waiting for you to come along.

I know, the glorious singing of Magpies is a fairly obvious miracle, not so hard to miss – if one looks at that way. But even then, I know we don’t always notice. And what about the smile from a random stranger passing on the street? Or the comforting warmth of the sun? All things easily missed and if we actually do notice, we likely will simply take for granted.

Talking about taking for granted. What about the million little things our loved-ones do for us every single day that we either don’t notice, or just let slide without any real attention? Better stop here: this list really could go on forever.

Now, wear. Of course we all know what wear means; we might wear a coat, a hat, shoes. We all wear clothes. There really is no end to what we humans can and do wear!

Perhaps, though there is a deeper way we can think about wear. When a hat (purely by way of example obviously) comes your way, you at the very least try it on to see how it fits, how it looks, how it feels.

Of course you do need to be paying attention when engaging in these tryings on don’t you? So why not as you live your lives and when miracles might be coming?

Well the first thing to be said is that in our busy, distracted and stressed out lives (sorry to be so repetitious) much of the time we aren’t ‘there and available’ to pay attention. It seems that our minds are rarely in sync with what we’re doing with out bodies, where we are or even when. The mind is more often than not way off in the future or stuck in the past somewhere.

So, if we want to wear the tender miracle, we need to begin to cultivate presence. We need to be paying attention to and in every moment we possibly can. It’s really just about Mindfulness . In this way we make ourselves available to actually notice and recognise when a miracle come to us.

Okay, the miracle has happened, you’ve noticed it, seen it for what it is, what now? Put it on! After all it’s yours. When you put on a new hat you look in the mirror: How does it look? How does it feel?

And as with the hat, if you like what you see, you proceed to go about your normal life, wearing the miracle for all to see. People will notice: after all if you are wearing a new hat and think it suits you, your demeanour, your smile, and your stature, the way you carry yoursef, will say it all.

But really that last bit is about yourself. Don’t forget yourself, share the good vibes with you. See yourself being contented, satisfied, grateful.  Wear the miracle lightly.

One word we haven’t really looked at is tender. We all know what tender means, and I’m sure you agree that not a lot of whatever we might call miracles could be described as tender. In any case, most of us know that life doesn’t really work that way.

Much of what we experience in life – both the big stuff and the little stuff – looks and feels more like hellish nightmares than some sort of ‘miracle’. Besides, a grumpy boss, or a sudden illness, are both to grab our attention more readily than singing Magpies.

Life is full of variables . It’s unpredictable in that we can”t know for certain what’s going to happen, when it’s going to happen, and most of the time we won’t ever get to the why something happens either (there’s those ‘w’ words again).

What I’m going to say now is just my theory. I can’t say I’ve realised its truth. And I probably won’t get there anytime soon either.

Every single thing that happens in the Universe – absolutely everything – is a miracle. Why? Because everything that happens expresses – manifests – the laws of nature, the laws of life, the universe, and everything else.

Maybe the most tender, the most beautiful, the truest miracle is the one we are actually there and now, sorry here and now, to experience and acknowledge it for what it is, good, bad, or anything else.

Pay attention; be present in the presence of the miracle.

love from me to you.

When Love is a Yoga and Lovers are Yogis

There was light at the end of the research tunnel

These last few days I’ve been researching and thinking about an idea for a blog post. But I’ve come to realise that I am grossly underqualified to write about the topic I had in mind. Let me put it another way: I am completely and utterly unqualified in any way whatsoever to go there. In fact, after all the research, I think I’m going to disqualify myself from ever going there in writing.

However, I’m a great believer in the idea that no quest for knowledge is ever a waste of time or effort; there is always something to be learned. During my research I came across a topic I believe I am qualified to discuss, as it forms an integral and vital part of my own personal spiritual practice.

Why I’ve decided to write this post, though, is because I made a discovery that lead to an insight that I know will lead to a great progress in that practice. It’s nothing new, not really, but it was one of those occasions we’ve all experienced of ‘I knew that, but now I really know it.’ For me, it was a realisation of something that till then had been a nice cosy theory and belief.

Bhakti Yoga is that practice. It is really a key foundation, a valuable component of my spiritual life.

Wikipedia opens its entry on Bhakti Yoga (see the link just above) with a description of the practice that mirrors what I think is the traditional understanding of Bhakti Yoga:

Bhakti Yoga (also called Bhakti Marga, literally the path of Bhakti) is a spiritual path or practice within Hinduism focused on loving devotion towards any personal deity.

In the same entry there is a description of the origins and meanings of the two words, Bhakti and Yoga:

The Sanskrit word Bhakti is derived from the root bhaj, which means “divide, share, partake, participate, to belong to”. The word also means ‘attachment, devotion to, fondness for, homage, faith or love, worship, piety to something as a spiritual, religious principle or means of salvation’.

The term Yoga literally means “union, yoke”, and in this context connotes a path or practice for ‘salvation, liberation’. yoga referred to here is the ‘joining together, union’ of one’s Atman (true self) with the concept of Supreme Brahman (true reality).

For some, dancing while chanting the names of their God, demonstrates their devotion and celebrates their union with each other and with God

In other words, those called to a religious or spiritual life, practise Bhakti Yoga whenever they pray or otherwise express devotion towards their personal conception of God, or the Divine. This particular definition seems to be saying that such a conception of the Divine, or God, is in the form of a personal deity who is a kind of representative of true reality, which the devotee is aspiring to join with.

Some Bhakta Yogis are full-time, full-on practitioners. People like contemplative nuns or monks, hermits who retire from the world into seclusion. Anyone basically whose entire life and activities are spent in devotion.

So, when I discovered all this, I became intrigued; I decided to go off on a tangent and explore the word Bhakti itself. Wikipedia has a separate entry for the word on its own:

Bhakti is a term common in Indian religions which means attachment, fondness for, devotion to, trust, homage, worship, piety, faith, or love. In Indian religions, it may refer to loving devotion for a personal God

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

In ancient texts the term simply means participation, devotion and love for any endeavor.

May refer to devotion to a personal god? While I thought this entry doesn’t contradict our first quote above, it does seem to broaden, and deepen, the meaning of Bhakti. Expand might be the better word.

In some traditions a simple life on the road is a way to commit full time to Bhakti or devotion.

It struck me that that object of devotion might be anything. Or even everything. You see? I told you it wasn’t a new idea. It’s just that it’s resonated deeply within me now. It appears that the object of Bhakti Yoga practice doesn’t necessarily have to be a ‘personal god’.

Many many people would say ‘I like animals’ or ‘I think we should save the world’. But, while that may imply a kind of love for or at least a fondness for, I think Bhakti is something more – actually several somethings more!

For example, some people have a particular attraction to and love for, the ocean, or it might be a river they view as, if not sacred in a religious sense, then as special to them in some deep, comforting, even therapeutic way. Others have similar relationships with and feelings for trees, or even a particular tree.

Animals as either individuals or as a species or group, can have the same appeal and call to other people. Then there are those who feel strongly in their hearts you could say, that Earth itself is a sacred object, or others have a knowing that the planet is a living entity and worthy of our devotion.

Bhakti begins with love and devotion, which is about caring for, affection towards, loyalty to, emotional engagement with the object of devotion. But even more than that, there is faith in that object of devotion; faith as in trust, confidence that the love is real, that the ‘relationship’ is sound and real.

Homage and worship too are key aspects of Bhakti. The deep inner feeling we have towards a thing, person, or other being, that is beyond what we normally call ‘love’. It’s about seeing and actually realizing ‘in our hearts’ our desire to be merged or united with that thing, person, or other being.

Actually, seeing that word other just now got me thinking. I had to go back and reread our definition of Yoga up there near the beginning. It says Yoga means ‘union, yoke’. It goes on to add: yoga refers to a ‘joining together, union’.

This passage seems to be suggesting that Yoga (in our case Bhakti Yoga) is both an already existing union, and a process of joining together to achieve union. One thing I would say here is that in my practice of Bhakti (and love as a general thing to strive for and be) it’s both.

Trees are special beings for many people from a whole variiety of cultures all over the world

But, in the end, it seems to me that the process or practice, the path of Bhakti, serves to awaken us, to assist us to acknowledge, recognise, and realise in that really knowing way, our pre-existent true nature.

That true essential nature can be said to be the reality of our oneness with all things, living and non-living. And their oneness with us too of course. In fact, by putting it that way, I’m saying there is only one, or oneness. What’s that expression? One without a second.

May you be a Bhakta Yogi. Or, perhaps you already are one?

Love and peace from Paul the Hermit

Life has manifested itself as the multitudinous forms that comprise the universe. It is the one Universal Life, Power or Shakti (the laws of the universe or natural laws) that controls, guides and actuates all movements and activities in all beings, creatures and things.

                — Swami Ramdas

Be Here Now: There’s No There and Then

Earlier today I thought I might write a post to let you know what’s going on at the Hermitage at the moment. That’s it. One thought, no follow up.  One more idea that might or might not work out.

And then just now my partner hermit and I were talking about how we’re not feeling present where we are and how frustrating  that is.


Then I made a joke about how I’d had the thought about updating you on where we’re at right now and how useless that idea is because we aren’t actually here and it’s not actually now. We have already moved in our minds to our next temporary hermitage.

Let me explain.

You see, we move around a lot. Every few months, sometimes even more often. It’s just the way we are, pilgrims and nomads. Still hermits mind you, but the pilgrimage takes us wherever and whenever it wants.

Anyway, we are scheduled to move in about a month. It happens that our next safe haven is in a familiar town that we actually like quite a lot. So, naturally, we’ve been thinking and talking about all the great things about that place. But worse, all that forward thinking, fantasizing, speculating, has lessened our hold on the present, on the here and now.

Like I said, it’s as if we aren’t here anymore and that’s a pity. You’d think that someone who writes and thinks so much about presence would be a little more skilled at actually being present. At least sometimes. But, no. It often feels like the more I think about it, the less it happens. Being in the present, in the here and now I mean.

I know that my last post was about story and its central place in pretty much all our communication with each other and the world. With that in mind, there is a story I’d like to tell you now that I’ve heard a couple of times from a favourite teacher of mine.

It’s a story about presence, yes, but it’s also about having an attachment to some kind of anticipated and (in one’s own mind) fixed outcome. It’s really about how we can never really know anything at all about the future for absolute certain, and how that attachment to the outcome can easily obscure from us other possibilities, other outcomes that are available here and now.

Imagine you work in a city office and have just finished work for the day. You head out onto the street in a casual way because you know for sure the bus isn’t due for another 15 minutes and the stop is just across the road.

So, there you are, just about to cross the road, eyes on the ticket home (aka the busstop), and a car pulls up right in front of you. It’s a friend of yours you haven’t seen for a while (this part of the story is my little embellishment, added for extra clarity and detail you might say).

‘Hop in,’ your friend smiles and opens the passenger door to let you in. ‘I’ll drive you home. It’ll give us a chance to catch up.’

You are in a little world of your own after a long tiring day. You’re, already planning what to watch on TV, and thinking about dinner. So, after the hellos and the how are yous, you politely tell your friend that you’re okay, the bus is due in five minutes (time flies!) and you checked and you know it’s coming on time.

Your friend drives off with a shrug and a wave, and you get ready to cross the road .Just as you are about to step out onto the road the light changes leaving you stuck on the spot. Then you see the bus – your bus – pull into the stop. No worries, the light will change again in a few seconds. But it doesn’t. It’s a busy time of day and the traffic keeps on flowing.

Then, as you stand watching, the bus pulls away and your eyes follow it down the road, round the corner, and out of sight. Now, you also know that the next bus isn’t due for an hour and a half. And that is for sure going to ruin dinner and you won’t be watching much TV tonight either. An exhausting end to an exhausting day.

In your attachment to the idea of the bus arriving on time, and on your thinking about the evening ahead, you refused the other option that just by way of serendipity had presented itself.

Now, like all of us who miss opportunities because we’re busy thinking about the future (and of course it could just as easily be the past), you are asking yourself why was I so sure the bus was coming on time? How could I possibly know? Timetables can be wrong can’t they? You’re already regretting saying no to your friend. You were only being polite anyway.

While you sit annoyed and frustrated at the bus stop, you start to think a little differently. It might have been nice to catch up, after so long. Not only that [my friend’s] car would have been way more comfortable than a crowded bus. Not only that I would be almost home by now.

So, what about me? What will I miss because I’m not here while I’m still here? What won’t I see or experience because I’m attached to the next place? Well, unlike our bus timetable know-it-all, I don’t want to find out.

Time now to recentre. Time to practise what I preach. Time to return to where I already am, here and now. Mindfulness in even the smallest activity. When I remember that is; after all, it isn’t called practise for nothing: it’s a practice that never ends.

Time to remind myself that I can’t ever know for certain what’s going to happen from one moment to the next, much less at any moment between now and a planned event in a month. Nothing wrong with planning, with preparing. The trick is to not be so attached to that plan that you are compelled to either ignore the present or fixate on that possible future.

So then, it’s time to open my eyes, ears, mind and heart to what’s around me, where I am and what is happening. Same disclaimer as above mind you! It’s the effort we make that really matters after all.

The real bonus, though, of being as fully in the moment as you can be, is that being there (sorry I mean here) is the only place you can actually be, which means you are fully in the presence of all there is. There’s nothing else. Not in that (this?) moment anyway.

peace and love

Paul the Hermit

Wish for Truth and Honour with your signature

Maybe fifteen or so years ago, I reconnected with a good friend, after losing touch for a while (we’ve lost touch again). This friend used to send his poetry to friends on his email list, and after reconnecting, I was reading through some of those old emails.

I began to notice, as I read, that along with his name, he signed each email with a really lovely sentence which at that time I’d not heard before:

Vishwa dharma ki jai

This is Sanskrit and obviously I had to look it up. Not only did it read so nicely in Sanskrit, the English translation, was just as striking: it translates to: ‘victory to universal truth and honour’. When I read this translation, I was moved. What a beautiful way to sign off an email, or (age warning here) or a letter on paper.

(And, just rechecking online now, I see that there are songs, magazines, and organizations, that carry this expression as their name or slogan. Do a search for Vishwa dharma ki jai)

what about this as a signature?

Now, I don’t have a problem with ‘yours sincerely’ or ‘kind regards’ and so on, as ways of signing off a written communication. Indeed, I think those salutations (is that the right word?) can be meaningful and can carry heartfelt and sincere wishes from one person to another.

However, as with a lot of things we do ‘automatically’ and as a matter of course, these expressions seem to have lost much, if not all their true meanings. In fact, how often do we get emails with no such signing off, and with merely the sender’s name at the bottom?

Actually, now I think about it, I remember some emails that don’t even carry the sender’s name as a way of signing off. Now, that seems on the surface to be a rude omission, but in reality it’s not rude nor is it really an omission: people and the way they communicate are changing; I guess some of these so-called ‘niceties’ are just naturally going to be lost.

So, I thought after reading the Sanskrit salutation, hey,  I would really like to use this beautiful expression as my ‘signature’ for emails. What better salutation for a truth seeker (that’s me) to sign off with? And I’ve been using it ever since.

It might be that a wish for the victory of universal truth and honour sounds a bit old fashioned, a bit formal even. Not at all: how up to date, how necessary even, in our fast-paced, materialistic, and sometimes lonely and corrupt world, is it to seek truth and to act with honour? Honour isn’t the fuddy-duddy, formal term you might think. Look it up: it’s about honesty, truth, right behaviour, integrity, all that good and right stuff.

So, I’m going to continue using this great salutation whenever I can. And my message to you, dear reader?

A Story of Words and a Journey of Discovery

Remember that old Bee Gees‘ song Words?  It’s about one person offering all they have to another. Well, the one doing the offering must have been a writer because, while the song’s a love story, it’s words that are the big thing on offer here:

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

Well, as this is a blog, words are the way it hopes to reach your heart. Actually, the posts also include photos and sometimes other art, but the main vehicle used here is words.

So, with that in mind I have a couple of words to offer you today. Well, one word and its opposite. Have a look at this sentence from Thomas Merton:

If Irish monks affirmed his Celtic spirit in their mastery of cataphatic contemplation of the wonders of divinity in nature, Buddhist monks evoked his Zen mind and drew him into the apophatic path of formless ’emptiness’…

A quote from the Introduction to When the trees say nothing: nature writings of Thomas Merton

As sentences go (though this is obviously only part of a sentence) this has to rank pretty close to the top for length and denseness.

Kataphatic. What a word! Of course I had to look it up; I’d never heard the word before (this post is a rewrite from notes written a while ago that I never got around to posting.), and even though the sentence seems to  suggest the meaning, I was still curious.

Looking at Wikipedia – where they spell it with a ‘C’ like Merton, as well as with a ‘K’- I learned that cataphatic is an adjective that describes an approach to theology that uses ‘positive terminology to describe or refer to the divine (God, Truth, Dharma, Spirit. You know what I mean: the divine).

Apophatic, as you probably figured out already, is when one uses ‘negative terminology to indicate what it is believed the divine is not’. A process of negation or we could say you get to what the divine is by a process of elimination.

Pretty simple concept really, but with a couple of big words to label it, and a lot of  words to define it. No, don’t worry, I won’t bore you with the meaning and origin of the words and all the rest. Mainly because I don’t know and I’m not especially interested anyway in all that technical stuff.

I simply resonated with the word, and the concept. Cataphatic made me think of Dick Van Dyke and Julie Andrews singing Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious in Mary Poppins. But let’s not go there: this is a serious blog after all. Except to say there’s more to that word than you might imagine.

Putting aside the aesthetic appeal of the word for a minute, let’s contemplate a while on cataphatic, and it’s opposite, apothatic.

To begin thinking about these two words, it’s necessary to acknowledge the existence of the divine. We can call it God, if we like. Or Dharma, Truth, Spirit, Love, Beauty.

As the quote suggests, a cataphatic approach, ideology, theology, or whatever we call it, ascribes names and forms to the divine, as well as describing where and in what the divine may reside.

Whereas apothatic, again as the quote suggests, does not ascribe names and forms to the divine. Instead it seeks to discover what or who god is or isn’t by a process of negation as described already. 

For a long time I labelled myself as a Humanist. I had decided that this physical body is all there is; the physical or material universe is all there is, and that there is no ‘god’ separate from us or who has special powers to affect our lives. No God at all in fact.

In the Grove of the Sentinals

But, all that while, I just knew that there was something else, something more than just the physical.  And over time, I came to the knowledge that there is indeed more than the simply phsical universe (including we humans).

I’ve thought about it a lot over the years and I came to the conclusion not that many years ago, that I had simply been afraid to name or define that something more. It would have meant admitting to myself that something more really did exist.

That is to say, I was scared of taking the cataphatic approach – and I’d never even heard the word.

Well brothers and sisters, I saw the light. The truth was revealed to me. And what is that truth? Well, to put it simply, I wasn’t scared anymore. Not of names and forms, and not of what I couldn’t see.

Now I could take both the Catophatic and the Apothatic approach: that the something else I had actually always known just was, really is, and can have a name and form, or not. The divine is not an omniscient being or any kind of being at all; As I’m very fond of saying, the divine (or truth, God, Dharma) simply is.  And it’s all there is.

Some of you might know that I am really quite fond of the Indian deity, Ganesha . Do I believe that a man with the head of an elephant actually exists or ever existed?. Of course not. Do I actually think that he resides in the lovely painted icon that sits by my bed? Well, obviously not.

But do I believe that there is a spark or aspect or attribute in all life, in you and me, in nature, in (scary word time) creation, that we can tap into to help us overcome obstacles? Or that we can access when we begin new ventures of whatever kind, or when we need strength to face challenges? Yes, I do. Very definitely.

And do I believe in a blue boy called Krishna who lived in India 5000 years ago and spent his time playing in the fields with the village cows and his friends, entertaining them with his flute? Again, of course not. Does he live in the other beautiful icon by my bed? The answer is obvious: no.

But do I chant the Hare Krishna mantra in an effort to come closer to the divine that is… well, that just is? Yes, again, very definitely.

Words. It’s all only words. Only words? Only??

In the beginning was the word, and the word was  with God and the word was God. (from the opening of the Gospel of John)

It’s all I have (for now).

Peace and Love from me to you

A Lesson Learned: Love & Truth

Greetings my friends

You know it’s funny how sometimes it takes a lot of time, many years in some cases, for a life event or some happening or other to finally emerge to express itself in some kind of creative form or other.

Just this minute (literally) I was reading through some poems of mine and I came across one I wrote only two months ago. I won’t say I’d completely forgotten about it, but at the same time, I can’t recall thinking of it again since writing. Until that moment five minutes ago that is.

The poem was prompted by an event that took place thirty- seven years ago. Not a major event on the face of it, just a small interaction between a mother and son. Here’s the backstory.

My mother loved Bingo, and played it at various venues several times a week. I’d just returned from several years overseas and she asked me if I’d like to be the security guard at that night’s particular venue. The regular guy couldh’t make it and they needed someone to just hang out in the car park so everyone would feel safe.

The River of Life rarely flows in a straight line

Well they were very different days, and I wasn’t who I am now, so I jumped at this very easy, relaxed, sounding gig. And off we went at the appropriate time.

It’s not part of the poem’s story but thinking about it now, I remember my mother’s joy and relaxed vibe as she interacted with her ‘Bingo family’. That’s a treasured memory.

Anyway, later in the evening I was wandering around, zigzagging through the parking lot, when I saw Mam waving at me to come to her.

And the poem takes it from there as they say.

I said the piece is about a simple mother son interaction and it is. But there is more to it really. The poem is about, at another level, Love and Truth.

It’s also about a fundamental concept I try hard to govern my life by: Ahimsa. This is an approach to life based on doing the least harm one can do in all areas of living in the world. It’s not strictly speaking a prohibition on telling untruths, nor does it mandate an absolute ban on violence. It’s complicated, as they say.

Gandhiji adhered to Ahimsa as his life’s guiding principle. While his style of living was to trust in Truth, he knew that at times, the way of least harm requires loving, compassionate discernment as we are faced with dilemmas of what’s right and what’s wrong in the infinite number of situations we are confronted with on a daily basis.

So, my friends, here is my poem. Read in peace.

WITH THE EYES OF THE HEART

I ate a hotdog once upon a time,
even though a vegan I am.
On the spot, split second decison; I considered it fine.
You see, as a fait accompli it was presented to me – by my Mam.

‘It’s a special vege kind I got for you.’
So the offered food I did receive,
though I clearly saw it wasn’t true.
Sometimes you need more than eyes to see what you believe.

My acceptance acknowledged her thoughtfulness
and validated her gesture of mother-to-son love.
So, to any karmic consequences, I will submit with grace.

Thank you for allowing me to share this story and poem with you. And even more of a thank you for reading how I learned a lesson about love and truth and how sometimes truth may actually sometimes need to be followed even if the so-called facts say different.

Blessings and love

Flee, Be Silent, Pray Always Part 3

Namaste and welcome

Well, here we are with the third and final part of our contemplations on Flee, Be silent, Pray Always, the answer discovered by our friend Arsenius who was looking for a way to be saved from the the things of the world.

In a very real sense, this third injunction might be seen as the most important of the three. Indeed, again in a very real sense, those first two seem to me to be prerequisites for the third. Certainly, many of us would like to flee to a place and state of silence in order to escape the world and its many and varied causes of our suffering. Such people are simply and completely over the noise, the chaos, war, greed, the complexity of relationships, and all the rest.

Then there are many many others who, rather than looking to escape the world, are wanting to ‘flee’ towards a place and state of silence in order to engage more fully with the world by contemplation, meditation, and most of all, prayer. Such people are working towards making their entire lives a prayer.

And then there are the third group which is made up of those who have some sense of running away from the world while at the same time they feel compelled to move towards a contemplative life that they sense will be the best way they can actually serve the world.

I think I can include myself in this last group. I’ve never coped well with masses of people, being in the workforce, or dealing with the horrors that the world seemed to be overwhelmed with.

At the same time, I’ve always wanted to (and have tried to) combat injustice, racism, violence and the rest. I guess you could sum it up by putting it this way: I was (still am) an oversensitive person who one day had had enough of trying to ‘fight the system’ when it was the system making and changing the rules of the game as it went along.

Better I thought, to turn inwards in order to reach or realise my oneness with all living things. I’ve always been predisposed to praying as well, so it was a natural evolution in many ways. My intention and commitment these last few years has been (and still is of course) to pray continuously and with all my being.

My prayer is for the release from suffering for all living beings and that’s my central focus for prayer. For me, it feels very much that I am a lot more use to others living what I think of as a prayerful contemplative life than being actively engaged with the world out there in the midst of it all so to speak.

Pray Always

Prayer for me is not so much about petitioning some all-powerful being who is seemingly on a whim able to grant or refuse my wishes. For me it is more an affirmation of the reality of my already existent oneness with the entirety of the universe. It’s a way of seeking to actually realise that this oneness is my very Self.

Prayer is about being present, not wishing blindly that things be different than they are. In praying I seek to affirm that the ‘universe is unfolding as it should’, as it says in a famous poem I’ve always loved. (Actually if you don’t know about Desiderata [Things Desired] then please do check it out; you’ll love it).

I think that in this sense, prayer is in fact an act of mindfulness, or rather an act which will help develop a mindfulness practice. It is a way to practise being fully focused and present to whatever is going on, whatever circumstances we find ourselves in.

And if we’re able to be present – even on a temporary or momentary basis – then we will be more calm, more at peace, and more able to achieve some clarity in our lives and with whatever is the intention with our prayer.

I know it might sound like a clumsy attempt at a clever play on words, but we’ve described mindfulness as the practice of being fully present. But we can put it another way. We can define that state of being fully present as being in presence.  Like what we might say to a friend who is daydreaming while we are trying to talk to them. We might say something like ‘so and so, your presence would be appreciated’.

In presence of what? I would say everything. When we are absolutely in the present moment (again even momentarily), when we are able to realise our oneness with all things. Essentially the universe is there – or is it here? – with you in that present moment. It’s a moment when we may indeed feel we are in the presence of all that is.

Some may call that presence God, or the Divine, or Universal Consciousness. Others may see it as being in the presence of their own true and authentic Self.

That leads quite nicely to the next aspect of prayer that I want us to look at. Praying to God. I’ve spent so long on mindfulness because I wanted to stress that I don’t think it’s necessary to have a personal name or form for God, or even a notion of an unmanifested, invisible ‘force’ called God, in order to pray.

On the other hand for me, and I know for a lot of people, there are names and forms of the universal consciousness that pervades and permeates the universe, that I personally resonate with and I can reach out to them whenever the feeling or inclination arises. It sounds a bit odd to say, but for me to think that all that is, is all that is, sort of sums it up.

And as a result of that, any prayer  I pray is addressed to my own Self which is simply part and parcel of all there is. In other words, it’s a personal choice for any one of us what form or name we choose to pray to. Or if we don’t pray to a name and form at all. All is one.

One thing I’ve mentioned I think a couple of times is the idea of making all our activities into a prayer, but other than the discussion on mindfulness and presence, I’ve not really addressed the how and why.

Why is pretty obvious. Because living and acting mindfully helps us in so many way such as being more peaceful, more relaxed, happier, and so on. The how, now I’m thinking about it is the purpose of this post. And it’s also true to say we’ve been talking about it since this series began.

That is to say, we flee from the aspects of our lives that don’t serve us and which can be changed. This might be a decision to spend 30 minutes every day sitting quietly and undisturbed. And as we’ve mentioned a few times already it could be going all out and moving to a desert cave somewhere.

In both those scenarios we give ourselves the opportunity to be silent and, hopefully also surrounded by silence. How to pray always? There’s an expression I love and try to live by: Follow your Dharma. Here Dharma means your own truth, being authentic to who you are, having the intention to do what’s right in all situations. And of course actually following through with that intention if at all possible. In this way you transform every action into prayer.

Living a life of prayer does seem on the face of it to not involve much use of spoken prayers, as in saying prayers with words. Well, I don’t intend to be humourous here, but a great deal of prayer does it fact involve talking to one’s Self. To the real self, that part of us that’s part of everything else. It can do us good to have these deep conversations.

Then of course there are the many many prayers that already exist to serve people from so many traditions, cultures, to suit all kinds of purposes and intentions.

Many of us will be familiar with a number of prayers learnt when we were children. If you’re anything like me, they still pop up by themselves from time to time.

Actually as I deepen my prayer practice, I’m discovering that I’m remembering all sorts of prayers from many and varied sources. I think as I dig deeper, more and more are coming up to the surface.

This prayer (by Thomas Merton I think) resonates deeply with me

If these ‘pre-prepared’ prayers say what you want to say and in a way that resonates with you, then you are free to choose those that feel right for you. I guess I mix and match the prayers I use; it’s always dependent on my feelings, thoughts, and intentions at the time.

Like  Arsenius, I try to be open and responsive to whatever the ‘answers’ are, even though my ego does sometimes when it doesn’t like the answer, try and control outcomes.

One point about such prayers: I find it tempting oftentimes to simply recite them at what I’ve heard described as lip level. By rote and without emotion, in other words. At those times I try to slow down or pause to reflect on what I’m doing and why to get back in touch with Self.

A major part of my prayer life is chanting mantra. I try to spend more time chanting as time passes. There are a number that I use depending on inclination and need.

I chant anywhere and sometimes a mantra will start chanting itself, surprising me by its arrival

(This photo isn’t me by the way)

Now, probably one of the most important aspects of my own prayer life: I know I’ve mentioned my intentions in praying at all, but one aspect I haven’t mentioned is praying as devotion.

Devotion as in worship, praise, as in gratitude for the beauty in my life, as an expression of love. Knowing with the mind that all is one is fine, but these kinds of prayers help us to cement our awareness of that oneness of all living beings. As I said earlier, I, like you or anyone else, may use particular names and forms to represent this oneness, but, well, it’s all one, so we are non-different from all those names and forms.

Lord Sri Krishna is among my favourite forms of Universal Consciousness  (also known as Brahman)

There are many representations of the Divine, but Krishna and this picture of Him are special to me.

Focusing your devotion on a particular form seems to help make it easier or more real. It’s tricky to pray to and with a thing that has no form and is invisible.

So, my friends I hope what I’ve said here is of some little interest to you and that you have found at least something you can use for your own life.

With peace, love, and with my prayers

Paul

Oh No! Another Blog About Chanting

Not too long ago, I completed what I’m now calling my first formal (structured) study of the entire Bhagavad Gita. Of course this wasn’t my first exposure to that text: I’d been reading it on my own for a few years before I came upon a teacher to act as guide.

Anyway, since that bitter-sweet day of completion, I’ve been looking at ‘random’ verses on a more or less daily basis as a way to keep in touch and to act as a reminder of what I’ve learned.

Just opening my Bhagavad Gita at random, just to see what the universe wants me to think about.

Today, I happened to open it up at what are a series of my favourite verses. (I know I’ve got a lot of favourites; it’s that kind of book). In these particular verses, Krishna describes the meaning and significance of the mantras Om Tat Sat.

In a nutshell, these three syllables, these mantras, are a way of describing the Absolute Reality of the Universe, or God, Consciousness, the Truth, the laws of nature and the universe. Whatever names we might use to encompass all existence.

Krishna details when and why to use the mantras (it’s one mantra made of three, for the technically minded). Again in a nutshell, it’s a mantra to use whenever we perform our duties, basically any actions, with a devotional mood.

By the way, that, and the inclusion of my favourite image of Krishna, doesn’t necessarily imply that our actions have to have a ‘religious’ intent or flavour: Any action we undertake, for whatever purpose as long as it is motivated by Truth, Love and right thinking, qualifies as being devotional.

While you can see the actual verses yourself via the Om Tat Sat link above, I would like to share with you my very liberal paraphrasing of Krishna’s teaching on the mantra. Also, I am adding a few observations of my own that I hope serve to clarify this great teaching. Oh, please forgive any repetitions, if they occur.

The syllables Om Tat Sat are the symbolic representation of the Supreme Absolute Truth; what I choose to describe simply as all that is. It is called by any number of names or none. It’s existence itself.

It’s an ancient practice, this chanting of these three syllables as a mantra. It is recited when one is engaged in any action in a mood of devotional service. Meaning any act that is imbued with a prayerful attitude and feeling, and with a mood or attitude of devotion to and recognition of, Truth in all things.

And it includes any and every action we undertake, from washing the dishes, to sitting in meditation or silent contemplation. And everything in between.

Om

Om is sometimes called the primordial sound, the creative principle, the word from which all creation sprung. I’ve also heard it defined as being the Big Bang, from which the universe emerged.

Om is considered the sacred sound and word by many cultures around our world. Consider the opening of John’s Gospel in the Christian New Testament :

Om is to be chanted when beginning and performing any and all actions motivated and driven by Truth. Chanting Om assists us to actually realise or understand with our heart and not just our mind, the presence of the divine or the universal consciousness in all that we do.

Tat

Tat is chanted by those wishing to be freed from attachment to material things, which includes the desire or compulsion to enjoy the fruits or rewards of our actions.

In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God

John 1:1 New Testament

Attachment is when we depend for our well-being or happiness (physical, mental, or spiritual) upon another thing (money, job, status, etc), person, or desired outcome. Attachment (and clinging, extreme longing, compulsivity), Buddha told us, is the cause of suffering: when things are going well with the things or people we are attached to we are elated; when things aren’t going so well, we are miserable and we suffer.

Sat

The syllable Sat indicates both reality and goodness. In other words, Sat is used to represent that Absolute Truth or Universal Consciousness that we’ve been discussing.

Sat follows very nicely on from Tat as it helps to strengthen our Dharmic (motivated by what’s right and true) actions, so that they actually become Sat – Truth.

So, chanting Om Tat Sat when performing any or all our activities in the world (as well as within) will help us to come to realise or understand that there is only the one Absolute Reality, the one consciousness that is not only universal in nature, but is actually the universe itself.

Oh one more quick note: Often you hear the chant with an extra word up front: Hari Om Tat Sat. Hari is a way to address that which removes darkness, that aids in the shining of the light of knowledge.

It’s a word that represents that Absolute Reality that we’ve talked about here. It can also refer to King or Lord, or otherwise influential entity. I find it rounds out the chant, and I like it!

Please feel free to explore Om Tat Sat for yourself. You will find a lot of great recordings of the chant on YouTube, and the wikipedia link at the beginning of this post is very Illuminating as well.

Om Tat Sat

Insights Gained on the Kora (A Follow On Post to our last one).

Namaste and greetings friends

The previous post on this blog was about the notion of Kora, or the circumambulation of a sacred site or object on foot as a kind of pilgrimage. If you missed it, you can find that post here.

While researching for that blog, I came across an old file in a forgotten folder which also touched on Kora as a topic. I’d forgotten all about it as it was really only a first draft of a proposed post that, at the time didn’t go any further.

Reading it again, I right away realized it was a great theme for its own post and would follow on quite nicely. So, before I share that with you, allow me a minute to set the context.

In early 2020 we had just arrived in a small outback town in central NSW. We’d planned our arrival to coincide with the onset of the very first lockdown put in effect as a response to the outbreak of Covid 19. Our hermitage remained there for about six months before that first (of several as it turned out, though we didn’t know it at the time) lockdown eased and we moved on.

As with that last post, this one features a sports ground, and my adoption of it for the purposes of my own circular pilgrimage practice.

Thank you for your patience

Across the road from the little apartment in which we took refuge a few months ago as fear of the Corona virus spread and travel was restricted, is a sports ground. In freer, safer times, they play cricket, and – in the winter – football there.

That ground, or rather the oval shaped fenceline surrounding it, has become a Kora for us. A Kora is a kind of pilgrimage in the form of a mindful and meditative Circumambulation.

Kora is a Tibetan word, but the concept of pilgrimages circling sacred sites is common to most religious traditions. I guess you might say, we’ve kind of adapted the practice to suit our purposes.

Anyway, a few days ago I noticed that markings had been painted on the grass: a set of giant squares and other lines. I realized that football must soon be returning, along with the reopening of cafes, restaurants, and so on in the town.

As I continued on my Kora that day, I began to notice that many leaves had been painted along with the grass. It occurred to me that these blue-hued leaves could be seen as a kind of symbol for at least one aspect of the current ‘crisis’ that I’d been thinking about already.

Since first adopting this ground as my own Kora, I’d often seen – and sometimes collected – leaves blown from neighbouring trees by winter winds. I’m always doing stuff like that. Sort of my way of connecting with nature.

Then, on the day in question, I saw the return of human activity to that grassy leaf-strewn space.

I make no comment here, no judgements about rights and wrongs. Life must go on. And with life, the cultural activities of all human communities must resume.

I simply point out that it seemed to me that blue paint on winter-blown leaves is an apt metaphor for the impacts that we, the human species, have on the world we live in.

Also, as you can see from my photo, that impact isn’t always ugly, or bad. In this case, I think it’s actually quite beautiful.

The other thing to say is (as I read on a sign taped to the fence on the same sports ground) please remember to social distance. (note: the pandemic is officially no longer with us, but when you think about it, it might be seen as a wise precaution at any time. There are always germs around waiting to spread!)

Oh okay, one more thing. In a time – in a world – where social distance has become a verb, remember that the only distance between any of us is purely physical and an invented mental construct. All life, despite seemingly unlimited names and forms, is one. There is no separation.

Peace and Love