Tag Archives: contemlative writing

Everything & Everywhere

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Namaste friends

In the High Holy Lands Where Magic Sometimes Happens

For the last while (long while really. Actually many years), I have dreamed a few times a month, sometimes more, that I am in, about to arrive in, or just about to leave Rishikesh in India.

Rishikesh is a small town straddling the Ganges River, and nestled in the foothills of the Himalayas. For millennia it has been considered a sacred place. Its history replete with stories of divine beings, ancient sages and saints, not to mention its status as a major pilgrimage destination for at least a thousand years and the town becoming ever more popular in recent years for pilgrims and ordinary pleasure seeking tourists from around the world.

This isn’t me but it could be

I last visited Rishikesh in 2016-17 (having previously spent time there in 2006) when my partner hermit and I stayed for several months. I associate that stay with the strengthening and deepening of my spiritual practice as well as the gaining of a kind of clarity in terms of my outlook on the world particularly on the spiritual path that had been calling to me – as it does still.

Putting aside health issues that hinder our mobility, I think it’s fair to say that my attachment to Rishikesh and my longing to return have more or less faded away almost completely over recent years.

Rishikesh has always been a busy, crowded place with the associated traffic, noise, pollution, and inflated prices. Rampant commercialism has long threatened the town’s ‘spiritual ‘ or ‘sacred’ vibe. These days it is the fourth most visited place in India for overseas travellers  so it’s likely to be more busy, choked with traffic, noisy, more commercial and material focused than ever, with the associated degradation of its appeal for some.

But, even if I were also  able to put all this aside, I think the core of the letting go of my longing for Rishikesh has more to do with the turning inward that has accompanied our eventual recognition of our calling to the hermit life with its quiet, secluded, contemplative lifestyle (or the aspiration for that life).

So, why the dreams? Why so often? Well, as I’ve mentioned, Rishikesh has played a significant role in my life. And despite the dropping away of those longings and attachment, I’m not saying going there again is totally out of the realm of possibility, but it no longer has that ‘I’m home’ kind of feeling. No longer has that magnetic attraction for me.

Now, here’s the missing information about these dreams I’ve neglected to mention thus far: Not one of the dreams has been set in the ‘real’ Rishikesh; never have they been ‘geographically correct’ for wont of better description.

Sometimes the dream town is nothing more than a small clump of houses sitting on a hill or in a field with a dirt track passing by.

Other times it is a sizeable town with temples, streets, cafes and shops masquerading as an Indian town. Sometimes it’s simply a story taking place inside a shop or restaurant that, in the dream, I know is in Rishikesh though not in the terrestrial town. There have been dreams in which the town is more like a city with highrise buildings, multi-lane roadways, and all the rest.

The most recent dream had me in a bus headed for another bus connection to Rishikesh. Worried about missing the connection, I was told that the Rishikesh bus wasn’t due ‘for weeks’.

Many and varied settings all standing in for the ‘real’ Rishikesh. But I don’t think I need Carl Jung to tell me the meaning of these dreams. All of them are my internal sacred or significant ‘Rishikesh’. It’s as if the actual geographic location in India called Rishikesh is the illusion and these dreams are the reality for me. All emanating from the cave in my heart

My inner or true Self, you might say, telling me that my being concerned with my specific geographical location is missing the point. A message for me that I am always in Rishikesh, that I am always in sacred space and with saints and sages, and that the Divine is everything and everywhere.

Om Tat Sat

The Word is the Word

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OM IS THE WORD
Om
In the beginning was the Word
Om
And the Word was with God
Om
And the Word was God
Om
And the Word is God
Om Om Om

Om
The object is the Word
Om
The subject is the Word
Om

Om
The observed is the Word
Om
The observer is th Word
Om

Om
The Word is the Word
Om
There is only the Word
Om
It is as it is – the Word
Om Om Om

Listen: It’s Already Silent

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‘I must be back in the blog writing mode, I’m really hanging out for a new topic.’ I blurted out to my partner hermit just now.

Actually, it was desperate. What I actually said was ‘I’m really desperate‘ for a new topic. I quickly modified it to anxious then again to keen, in an attempt to keep the sound of attachment out of my voice. Finally, in these notes, it’s morphed into ‘hanging out’ which is obviously no better at all.

Her reply needs no disclaimer, no modification: ‘The answer comes from the silence,’ she said quietly.

I’ve actually had a relatively quiet – even silent – day: resting in recovery, laying on my bed, sometimes sleeping, sometimes simply following my breath.

Mind wandering, of course, that’s what minds do after all. But overall at least a semblance of silence seemed to be the order of the day.

Even then, after all that silence, quiet, rest and mostly a not overly busy mind, the best I can come up with is ‘I’m desperate’?

As in, I’m really hanging out; really anxious; really keen. As in, I”m not really listening – not at all silent. In fact, so full of desire, clinging and attachment for a new blog topic was I, that actually noticing one come out of the ‘silence’ would likely take a miracle.

All day – hours – I lie still. As I said, only sometimes sleeping, the rest of those several hours watching my breath, attempting just to be in silence and in the stillness.

So is it me? Am I missing something? An answer has come (here I am making notes for a new blog post), but what’s this ‘silence’ business from where answers apparently come all about?

Clearly, silence does not always seem to require an absolute, complete, and total absence of noise, voice, words, thoughts, if it is indeed the source of ‘answers’.

Maybe silence itself produced an apparent state of attachment to a new blog idea as a kind of ruse or trick to have my Self fool myself into seeing the foolishness of attachment as well as showing me how silence really works – in the real world.

Silence is not some sort of rarified mystical state that we have to enter through rigorous spiritual practices. It is actually a condition that emerges from everyday moments, ‘random’ thoughts, or comments made seemingly without thought or any apparent significance or meaning. Actually silence lives everywhere, is in everything and is all the time.

Listen and you’re there

A Day of Silence Observed

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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

Flowing With the River of Life: A Work in Progress

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O Lord, I take refuge in You.
You are my sole guide, my master.
Show me the right path and
I shall follow it.

This is a prayer I like very much. It appeared one day in a previous incarnation of this notebook, then migrated to my prayer book. Its origins are lost in the mists of forgetfullness.

In any case, I like it – a lot. In a big picture kind of way it encapsulates much about the way I aspire to live my life; what I aspire to devote my life and energies to.

The prayer is addressed to the ‘Lord’ – to the Divine; to the Absolute Reality of (to borrow a favourite phrase) Life, the Universe, and Everything. Some will call this God, some think of it as the creator. For me it is simply Lord: all that is existence.

And it is there that I aspire to take refuge. I seek shelter in the knowledge of the rightness and order of the universe. Not an easy task when I think about the state of life ‘on the ground’ on our home planet; how the horrors can be almost impossible to grasp, to understand, and to keep from despairing over.

But a contented state of refuge, of safety, security, and even happiness, may be found, I sense, by a cooperation with what we might call the flow of the river of life.

And if I am to discover for myself that refuge, then there really is only one choice: to accept that flow of the river of life as my only guide to how to live, what to do, how to be.

Not surprisingly I struggle with the idea of cooperating with and accepting the often crazy and random nature of that flow of my life as my ‘sole guide’; how much harder is it to accept that very river as my master?

Again, if I ever want to be happy, if I ever hope to be free from suffering and attachments to those things that cause me to suffer, then I must accept and cooperate with the reality: the river of life is the master whether I like it or not. I may as well accept it.

Which absolutely and I hope obviously, does not mean I’m a fatalist, or that I am resigned to just let the currents toss me about willy nilly. No, not at all.

My deep sense (yet another site for other struggles) that the solution to suffering does indeed lie in an acceptance of the reality of the flow of life as it’s happening moment to moment.

By not resisting life and what it presents to me, I aspire to arrive at a state of acceptance where I might contentedly and freely ask what is my role here? What is the universe asking me to do?

If I can listen, and actually hear with the ear of my heart, then I might be able to discern the path, which if followed, will free me from suffering .

Then I shall be going with the flow, following the path of least resistence, and I’ll be contributing to my own smooth (well, smoother at least) ride through life.

You Can’t Try to Go With the Flow

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Every writer, every painter, every person who makes things – and that includes all of us human beings – will sometimes get the feeling that they are never going to have another idea, or the inspiration, the creative spark or energy, to create anything ever again. Not ever again.

Certainly  that – what could we call it: crisis of confidence? Moment of fear? A feeling of inadequacy? The seeming loss of the desire to create? We could probably keep going with this, but let’s not.

Where was I? Yes. Certainly that, whatever we call it, comes over me really quite often when it comes to the writing of this blog. It’s become a standing joke in the hermitage: Whenever I’m asked if I have another post coming on, my most usual response goes something like:

‘No, and I don’t think I’ll ever write another post. The ideas are all gone. It’ over.

(As I reached for this notebook just now, I was asked that question and ironically I was able to answer with confidence and certainty, ‘Yes I do’.)

As I said, it’s a standing joke because, well, something always reveals itself to me, eventually. An idea, an inspiration, an insight is presented. Something I sense is worthy of sharing, always comes to me.

Having said that, there are times when I really do have that horrible sense that it’s finished, that I will never ever again receive an idea for another blog post.

But, here’s the great thing: Having become a standing joke, this perceived loss of ideas, insights, inspiration, the joke serves its purpose: It makes me smile, it treats the whole thing with some humour.

In other words, I’m not allowed to just get away with feeling sorry for myself. It cheers me up. It props me up a little, and gets a little part of my mind opening up to something new or fresh to write about.

There have been times during the journey of this blog when I have strayed from my intention for this blog. As it says beneath the blog title on the top of the page, this blog is meant to be:

musings on one hermit’s life and world

In the past, I’ve sometimes solved this ‘no ideas’ problem by writing about a topic from something I’ve read, teachings I’ve studied, or some other things not directly about me or my personal experience.

Lately (for some time now) I’ve resisted this ‘easy way out’, and tried more attentively to stick to the intention stated in my sub-heading – write about me and my experience.

Okay, it’s in fact not trying that’s the point, both with me writing this blog, and also with every other aspect of how I try (sorry, not try) to live my life.

Wu Wei it’s called, the path of least resistance. Certainly wracking my brain to come up with post ideas, and straying from intentions just so I can have a post, sets up much resistance on many levels.

You can’t ‘force’ musings, can you? If you muse you muse, if you don’t muse you don’t muse. It’s about letting it flow, or if it’s not flowing, let it be.

And here’s the interesting thing: it – the flow of ideas, insights, musings, whatever – flows at its own pace anyway regardless of my interference, angst, worry, or my forcing things to go this way or that.

My lesson for today – for my life too I pray:

Go with the flow