A Day of Silence Observed

A few days ago we observed a day of silence here in the Hermitage. Our initial idea was to have a day of less talking, more quiet, which we hoped would help us reach a state of silence. We timed our little effort to coincide with a similar event being observed in an ashram in India whose foundation teacher we admire very much. A way for us to perhaps associate with others on a similar path out there (in there?) in the invisible community.

It’s not that we don’t experience periods of quiet (no talking) and even the aspired to silence, we do. Quite often they can be reasonably extended periods too, when meditating, chanting, studying, and so on.

But, it does have to be said, that we do spend a lot of time talking with its associated thinking – and unthinking too; with its listening – and not listening.

Of course, there are things we actually want or need to talk about; just that for us, sometimes we end up talking about stuff that’s not needed, as well we fall into what we call the adharmic trap of gossip, judgement, needless repetition, and the rest of the not so right speech.

Anyway, we wanted our day of quiet to be as complete as possible, so we agreed to not even discuss mundane and practical things unless it was absolutely essential. (Who gets to decide what’s ‘essential’ and not? Good question).

Around midday on the day in question I made a few notes on how my day was going so far. I had a vague notion I would make notes periodically through the day as a kind of ‘casual log. Needless to say, an approach of such vague casualness resulted in the notes made at midday being the only ones to actually come into existence.

Still, even though the notes were made relatively early in the day, I do think that they are a pretty good summary of my feelings on the day as a whole. So, let me share those brief reflections with you now:

Thus far (about 12) we are keeping silence (or at least not talking) – mostly. Practical things are sometimes tricky, sometimes not. It’s easy for example to point to a cup which translates to ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’. The reply which was ‘no thank you but I would like half a cup of soya drink’ took a bit more translational effort. Due of course to an almost complete lack of experience in speaking without umm, speaking.

Mind you,only three or four actual words spoken, along with a ton of hand gestures and facial expressions, did result in the transmitting and receiving  of understanding.

PLUSES SO FAR  

A sample of what it is like to be quiet, and actually being in quiet. And a happy anticipation (along with a sense of relief experienced in the present) of not having to talk about all the tired old things: the weather, the world, the ins and outs of teachings, teachers or writers, as well as ‘other people’, which often end up in judgements, criticisms, and plain simple gossip.

Alongside this overall positive vibe, there is a kind of nervousness. Where it comes from, I can’t say; probably an anxiety to do with not talking about the usual things. Though of course it’s only been a few hours.

While there has been little out loud talking, my mind has been running crazy, and I’ve had a strong compulsion to keep busy. Put these issues with the nervousness? To be expected really I think given my lack of experience with intentional quiet.

One step at a time.


Well, clearly that compulsion to keep busy didn’t extend to further note keeping, but, yes I have to say I did keep busy. Ironically some of that ‘busyness’ did in fact result in a few glimpses of silence.

I spent time working on an art piece in a prayerful manner, and in a quiet state; none of the all too usual chatter. Silence. I meditated for longer periods than usual, which allows for a deepening of a quiet mind (in theory that is). And when I chanted mantra, I think I may have been a little calmer and quieter of mind than usual.

Clearly the cultivation of silence – and even the seemingly straightforward task of simply not talking – is a practice that requires more practise, quite a lot of practise in my case.

We need to develop alternative communication strategies – hand signals, signs, gestures – to minimise speaking even more. Having said that if we’re to develop silence then even communicating about mundane stuff in other ways would get in the way. Too much talking!

Well, I occasionally make photos out there in the world

One very pleasing outcome is that I feel slightly less inclined to ‘talk about the outside world’ and other people. Less idle chatter. It’s a good start and it can only get better with some of the aforementioned practice.

Actually, thinking about it now, you’d think that a hermit who rarely goes out of the Hermitage except for a walk or occasional visits to a shop, who doesn’t watch the news or social media and the rest, wouldn’t have a lot to gossip or blah blah about.

That’s why, you see, I say that I really do need quite a lot more practice. Making silence is a long term project, an aspiration if you like, to find inner peace and make myself more able to radiate love to the world.

Love and Peace

Paul the Hermit

Lookin’ For Love in All the Right Places

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Matt 18:20

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

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

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

Bhagavad Gita 18:20

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

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

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

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

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

I love the hermit life

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

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

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

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

Who Brings the Bins in?

Wheelie Bins Waiting in the Burbs

Do they really? Who needs to be more kind? How would I know? I mean, I could say, but I won’t – I can’t. It’s not my place, or my right to judge what someone else needs to do or not do. I find it hard enough to look at my own behaviours and to tell myself what I need to do or stop doing. Actually, I sense a question coming on, but I think we’ll leave it for another day.

Anyway, let me share with you an act of kindness of which the Hermitage community was this morning on the receiving end of.

On looking out the front door we discovered that our bins had been brought in. Monday morning is the weekly garbage collection time in our neighbourhood, which means later day Mondays are the times for the bringing the bins in ritual.

But today, no ritual for us: our bins were brought in by … well we don’t know who. It might have been a neighbour, or it might have been a random passerby.

In any case, whoever performed this not so small act of kindness lifted the spirits of our community members. In other words, it made us feel good.

So, perhaps I can’t judge whether or not other humans need to be more kind, but I can tell you how it feels to be on the receiving end of such kindnesses: nice.

And grateful.