I’m ‘Giving Up’ … To Amend My Life

Renunciation. It’s a popular topic here at the Hermitage. Perhaps popular isn’t the right word; let’s say it’s a subject of conversation, thought, and contemplation on a quite frequent basis. As it is, I think, for most people attempting to live a spiritually focused life. For today, however, I really want to focus on some of my own thoughts around renunciation.

For those of us oriented towards the quest to live a spiritual, prayerful, and dharmic or truthful life, renunciation tends to mean the giving up of things, activities, and behaviours (including thoughts, attitudes, and the like). The theory is the very act of renunciation itself predisposes one to more authentic and close identification with their own true natures. It places them nearer to realisation of the Divine, of God, Absolute Reality.

And of course when harmful things, situations and attitudes are released, one has less to distract from the spiritual quest and life,  Of course, most acts of renunciation don’t result in a one off quick fix: I heard in one of our hermitage conversations a few days ago the perfect quote to help make this point:

You just have to keep renewing the renunciation.

In other words, it’s a full-time, life-long job!

But, in the attempt at renouncing, we can potentially find some help towards a clearer focus on the spiritual side of life as well as more sensitivity towards what is good and what is not good for us.

A person free from both hatred & desire is always renounced. Indifferent to dualities, he is free from all bondage and easily attains liberation

Bhagavad Gita Ch 5:V 3

Which is where every one of us knows exactly what it means to try to give up what’s bad for us. It ‘ain’t easy is it? Still, we’re here to talk about me, not you or anyone else. So …

There are a few things that in perusing  the monkish life, that I didn’t have to renounce; some things like eating flesh, drinking and smoking, going out to clubs, pubs and the rest, are things I’ve either never engaged in, or haven’t done for a very long time.

Which brings me to a good point to mention here. Any renunciation whatsover has to be a personal decision taken only after serious reflection and thought. And it must be made without outside coercion or pressures. While others may think they know what’s good (or bad) for you, in truth, it’s only you who really knows.

Anyway, as I was saying, or about to say, renouncing things hasn’t always a piece of cake for me. Actually, I love cakes of many and varied kinds and have had to renounce all of them. But that was more for my body’s health than for my spirit, though obviously the two go hand in hand.

Then, just a couple of days ago in a momentous event which in fact was the trigger for all this reflection on renunciation, I vowed to give up a particular breakfast cereal I’m really very fond of.

This renunciation – not the first attempt I might add – being prompted by the fact that I tend to experience quite strong indigestion, huge bloating, and general feeling yuck, when I’ve indulged in this cereal for any length of time.

There is nothing trivial about attempting to renounce foods and so on that harm our health; as I said, it’s a lifetime’s effort. And equally daunting are the non-physical things like attitudes and behaviours.

Any renunciation whatsover has to be a personal decision taken only after serious reflection and thought.

Here is an example, or group of examples, which along with the above-mentioned cereal saga, played a serious role in bringing about this post. They are behaviours and attitudes which very emphatically interfere with my quest for a Dharmic, prayerful, and spiritually focused life,

What I absolutely hate, despise, detest, am revolted by … Oops sorry; I forgot my monkish manners there for a minute. Let me try to rephrase.

I have a strong aversion to gossip, to judgemental thoughts and comments. I am averse to it on a couple of levels. Firstly, I do not like, for one second, the idea of not minding my own business, of commenting on what other beings do or say, or don’t do or don’t say, or how they behave.

Surely, my thinking goes, I have enough of my own business to mind, why do I need to mind the world’s business?

That’s the key one I think. But I really dislike the feelings such behaviour and attitudes invoke in me: anger, frustration, guilt, inappropriate thoughts, words and conversations. There is even a physical component sometimes when I make myself sick in some way through the stress of such things.

There is another point too, just as key if not more so. I’m routinely disgusted by the notion that these criticisms, judgements, not minding my own business, really do impact on what I call the vibes of life for all of us. Call it vibes, energies, whatever, but I sense that our own behaviour has a ripple effect beyond our immediate relationships and environments to the wider world beyond.

So, by now it’s pretty clear that I am in need of some serious renunciation of my judgemental, critical thought and words, as well as the anger, disgust and the like, I feel and express towards those I deem worthy of my judgement. Okay, not just others: all we’ve been saying here applies equally to myself.

Perhaps it’s to do with family, school, or societal conditioning? And like any full-on conditioning it can tend to preoccupy, even possess, one’s life.

These are all old stories. They come from a past that doesn’t exist. For real, it’s gone right? Actually, when you think about it, there really is no such thing as the past.

Long ago, decades really, I was big into affirmations. I had a whole collection in a little folder that I kept in my pocket of on my desk or wherever was handy.

There are a few I remember even now thirty or more years later, and there are one or two that come to mind that might be helpful that I can resurrect to share here.

I release and let go of all that is unlike love. There is plenty of time and space for everything I want to do.

You let go of all that’s unlike love, what’s left? Love. Love is all. All is love. And this affirmation has an added bonus: no regrets, it’s never too late, there is time –  and space – aplenty.

And the second one. I think it’s just as good:

I am at peace with my own feelings. I am safe where I am. I create my own security. I love and approve of myself.

This one I’ve rewritten as a prayer; I might share that one sometime. The helpfulness  here is easy to get: I’m safe; it’s okay to have my own feelings.

There’s no outside threat – nothing to attack, nothing to defend – and, finally, I have no need to be entangled with all that unwanted stuff, that – as I’ve already said a couple of times – is none of my business.

For my community, the invisible and the visible, with love

It’s Dhal Day Today

This morning I announced here in the Hermitage to anyone within range, that today, I would be making lentils. No, I thought, I can’t ‘make’ lentils; my job is to cook them so they might become Dhal.  Jokingly to myself I stated by way of correction in my best mentally affirmative voice ‘It’s Dhal day today.’

Dhal is an important staple for us here at the hermitage. Please don’t imagine I’m exaggerating  when I say that we eat it everyday. Actually, come to think of it, it might be just an ever so slight exaggeration.

Very very occasionally we choose some other evening meal, always vegan. But to tell the truth, we all like Dhal so much that we hardly ever feel the need for a change.

Anyway, as I say, it’s one of my relished responsibilities to once a week, or thereabouts, play my part in producing the Dhal that sustains the community for the next week.

Just a little aside: Lest you think Dhal is all we eat, I should mention we eat lots of fruits and vegetables, rice and breads, beans and various other things that come to us one way or another.

Please, the inner editor is begging me, can we just get on with today’s topic? Actually, the topic is the Dhal making that has taken place today. So, really, we are still kind of on track.

Right then. Not long after my announcements to the community and to myself, I got to it,  to the task at hand. First, I pour red lentils into a largish saucepan.

Not my picture. Just to give you an idea of what I saw that prompted my feelings

I watched as the lentils streamed from the packet to form a little mountain, first at the bottom of the saucepan, growing to full saucepan scale. Funny thing to say but I was kind of mesmerized by this mountain building. I was struck by the thought – more like a feeling – this is wonderful, this is important.

I mean to say that I felt a little awestruck by the abundance. In a sort of gratitude induced reverie, I scooped a handful of said lentil mountain, letting lentils stream back to Lentil Mountain in the saucepan.

Then it’s rinsing time. You see, you need to rinse the lentils to get rid of excess starch, bits of dirt,  little stones, or twigs. This is a vital step in the process according to the Dhal Grand Master who taught me this life-sustaining art.

In any case, it’s at this stage that you’re allowed to get your hands right into the mix. Run water, swish the lentils around, drain off now starchy, twiggy, stony water. And repeat five, six, or more times determined by the clarity of the water after each rinse.

I like that bit too actually: kind of pleasant sensation as lentils swirl through fingers and you get experience something of the lentils themselves. Nice feeling.

Next step, fill a giantish sized saucepan (I call it the big pot) with the rinsed lentils, add water (very exacting amounts too, but don’t ask me for precise details), bring to the boil occasionally scooping off any remaining bits and pieces as you watch the alchemy happen.

Then, once boiling, it’s time to stir in various spices. Once again, exact amounts are called for, but, well it’s kind of a trade secret. By which I mean, I couldn’t tell you measurements; one just knows. Could be a cook thing. Or maybe it’s a monk thing?

Enough cooking (sometimes the inner editor doesn’t know when to leave the writer alone).

Okay then.

Gratitude. And wonder. Both experienced today – and not for the first time.

Wonder at & gratitude to Surya (the Sun) which gives and sustains all life, including lentils

Wonder at the aforementioned alchemy that transforms dried, red lentils, a few spices, and water, into a delicious, substantial, healthy and nourishing, food that satisfies and sustains.

Gratitude that I am able to take a small part in this alchemy. Gratitude for the beings who sustain us – me, our community, you, all of us on Earth. Gratitude for the grace I have been granted that actually allows me access to such wonders and abundance.

It’s a lot to be grateful for. All I can add is that it is my deep gratitude that will keep me ‘making lentils’ always.

Sounds and Vibrations

Today’s post opens with what I think is called an oxymoron (funny word that)

No need to repeat here that I am a hermit; there you go, I repeated it, but it’s true nonetheless: I am a hermit. The oxymoron bit comes in when I make another obvious statement to the effect of, as a hermit I very much prefer to spend the vast majority of my time right here where I am right now:  in our hermitage.

This has become even more the case since our community decided to ‘settle down’ for a while in the one spot.

Obviously, just like everyone else, we have shopping and other chores that need to be done. Then there’s the occasional visit to the Doctor, and even the dreaded dentist, that will call me away from my safe-haven.

And that’s even before I mention walking for fresh air, exercise, and simple enjoyment. Or pursuing my Contemplative Photography practise. Both activities take me out and about, but usually not too far or for too long, from the Hermitage.

In any case, both these welcome (and absolutely necessary) pastimes have me mostly on my own, being quiet with heart, mind, and eyes open, or simply contemplating ‘stuff’.

No, it’s nore the occasions when I’m having to interact with people, or when there are crowds. Some might call me over-sensitive, but that label would only apply on my outgoing and gregarious days.

While that was intended as a little ironic humour, I must insist (internal editor speaking here) that I add that oftentimes said outgoingness and gregarious demeanor is an act, a cover for anxiety, and usually ends up making me feel worse anyway.

Although I guess you could also say that I’m allergic to the world and its ways, there are the occasional times when I want to, not so much ‘be around people’, as feeling the need to be somewhere where some life is going on around me. Not hectic life, as I’ve said, more like people going quietly about their business, doggies walking and playing with their humans, maybe people sitting chatting to friends. I guess you know the kind of thing.

This Mystic Tree stands for all the Tree People

The hermit gods blessed us in placing us in a hermitage which we love more and more, literally five minutes walk to a low-key, friendly indoor/outdoor café overlooking the village green with it’s big tree in the middle, and its nice lawns where the above-mentioned not so hectic life with it’s chatting, sitting, and relaxing people, and its doggies leading their humans in games and walks goes on. The coffee is okay too.

Except. People can be friendly, which in itself ,of course, is a lovely lovely thing, but as I’ve been telling you, I’m not really very good with people in those kinds of situations. Keep a low profile, is my ongoing advice to me.

The poem I share today was composed as I sat in the sun on a recent visit to that coffee shop. This visit prompted me to try to describe something – in poetic form and in ‘real time’ – of what I’ve been sharing with you here. No, what it actually describes is my strategy on that occasion for keeping said low profile.

This poem also holds a timely reminder that arrived with, what I can only think of as divinely inspired timing.

SOUNDS AND VIBRATIONS

My eyes are cast down – not downcast.
The brim of my hat pulled low.
As good, I hope,
as a Do Not Disturb sign.


For a hermit, out of his cell,
the cell must be reconstructed.
He is his cell.
Eyes focused on these words revealed;
hat brim, the walls.

I never forget, but just in case!


A chime resounds, but it does not disturb,
for I know for what it tolls:
Chant Hare Krishna, it calls to me.
So, these words must conclude;
words of praise now commence.

Hare Krishna

Sun, Water, Sky, and Me

Varuna and Surya. the Hindu deities of sky and all Earth’s waters (Varuna), and our sun (Surya). These names resonate for me. I like how such great natural phenomena fundamental to our existence on this planet, can be ‘personalised’ in this way.

I find that having acquired symbolic or representational names for sky, water, and sun, has allowed me to somehow relate to the inherent giving and preserving of the energies that power all life that water, sky, and sun provide in a prayerful, thankful way. Kind of makes it personal.

Let me put aside for a moment the obvious scientific reality that tells us we can’t live long without water, can’t live at all without the gases in our atmosphere, and if the sun goes dark for whatever length of time it is, then all life ceases to exist.

How many times have I stood in awe watching a sunset?

Or watched as big waves rolled in with a surfer hoping for a ride?

How many times have I welcomed the sound of rain on a roof and the sight of it nourishing trees or other life

And how many times have I sat on or walked along a riverbank feeling uplifted and a little more grounded?

Many, many times is the short answer. Varuna and Surya are constant presences in our lives. And I am grateful for the life-giving and life-sustaining natures of their existence.

Sharing with you today, a little poetic expression of one of those times when sky, water, and sun, gave me just a little more than those fundamental material energies.

ONCE AGAIN VARUNA AND SURYA

Once again, Varuna and Surya
are coming to make rescue.
They arrive on – as in fact they are – the currents and eddies
of the river of life.
In this way, the natural order remains in motion.

Shared with love

from Paul the hermit

Flow river go, past the shady tree.
Flow river flow, flow to the sea.
Flow river flow, flow to the sea. 

Thanks to Roger McGuinn for one of the classic flowing on a river songs.

The Dharma of Keeping

A curious title for a post, I thought as the words popped into mind. And it’s one that could be hinting at, pointing towards, any number of ideas, topics, or whatever.

In this case, however, it is really quite straightforward: The title refers to a three-line quote I rediscovered when I was transferring notes from a full notebook to a new one the other day.

Actually, ‘three-line’ quote may not be quite correct. In fact, I have no idea if it is a longer quote consisting of three lines, or, three individual one-liners that I happen to have grouped together.

Whatever the case, I don’t know where I found this quote or these quotes. All I can say is that I was surprised to come across them as I performed the normally routine task of transferring notes.

Surprised,  because each of these lines I think, hold a special message for me; a unique piece of advice. You could even call them guidance.

Each individual line and its message is wrapped around  and driven by the verb to keep:

Keep your spirits up
Please help keep the silence.
God’s will be done and keep calm.

As a whole, this quote (these quotes) constitute  a kind of ‘how to live in the world’ mini-guide. Each – and all – of the three lines point to an aspect of what we might call Right Living – guiding us to the means by which we may approach daily life with its ups and downs, its sorrows and joys, good and bad times, mistakes, hurts, confusion, that make up our lives as flawed human beings living the best we can in an imperfect world.

Keep your spirits up

What with all those ups and downs, sorrows, daily crises – in our own lives and in the world around us – how are we to keep  our spirits up?

How do we free ourselves of the pain and suffering caused to us by all these travails?

How do we remain positive and optimistic in the face of what passes for a life ‘in the world’?

All good questions, and there are many many answers out there in that same crazy, mixed-up world that’s giving us all the trouble in the first place.

Speaking only for me, I have nowhere near reached the point where I can say that my spirits are consistently lifted, that I let nothing disturb me.

Why is that? The answer is simple: because I’m a human being. Or perhaps it’s better to say I inhabit a human body which is subject to one thing only: constant change.

I’m learning more and more that the only one I can address such questions to is me. If there are any answers to how to keep my spirits up, I’m realizing slowly that I won’t find them out there in the world or in the things of the world.

So, going within has to be at least my tentative response. It seems that there really is nothing else that will keep my spirits up for more than some fleeting often illusory moments here and there.

Please help keep the silence

What silence? Well may you ask: hardly what you’d call a quiet place to live, this world of ours.

Once again, for me, going within is a good start. Though I’m not the quietest person in the world, especially ‘within’. Too many thoughts, emotions coming and going, all the craziness of an overactive mind and heart.

But it’s a start.

I keep re-centring  when I can. I focus on my breath; recite some favourite prayers; chant mantra (the names of God); I sometimes just sit. All these do help me, will help me, I know. They do, sometimes, every now and again, for little moments, create that little (vast?) space I call silence.

As to playing my part in keeping that broader, silence? Well I’ve mentioned before the invisible community – the heaps of people all over the world who are on the same or similar paths, practising their own unique ways of going within, of cultivating both inner and external quiet, or silence.

All of which tells me, I am not alone. And it says, my little contribution to silence – to being still and quiet – actually counts.

God’s will be done and keep calm

For me, ‘God’s will be done’ is simply another way of saying that the Universe (or life) is unfolding exactly as it does in the only way it can. It just is as it is. And me, being also that life, I play my part.

And that’s all: we play our part; we do our bit, and it all happens as it does.

Acceptance of this truth is also one of those aspiration things I keep near the top of my list. Surrender, I sometimes call it. Surrender, rather than being a ‘giving up’ as we sometimes use the word, is more about going with the flow of the river, or accepting and cooperating with the flow of the natural order of the Universe as we experience it in our lives.

That ‘keep calm’ bit reminds me of that meme that was everywhere a few years ago: ‘Keep calm and carry on’. It, in a real sense, is exactly what I’m trying to do.

Surrendering, or accepting that ‘the universe is unfolding as it should’ (to borrow once again from the astonishing Desiderata) seems to be the clearest most obvious way to that calm our quote speaks about: Calm acceptance, free from the resistance and struggle against the flow of the river of life that lies at the root of much of our suffering.

So, the Dharma of Keeping. One small (or perhaps not so small) set of clues about how to live right in the world – and with the world.

The river of life is calling me to the kitchen. Even hermit monks have dishes to put away. So, keeping calm, I carry on.

Hermitage on the Loch (courtesy: a member of our community

Reaching for Freedom?

Reaching for Freedom

Reaching for freedom is what I called this photograph that I made today. But, is it really? I  mean is the plant actually in reality ‘reaching for freedom’?

Well, thus far, science can only tell us something like: This plant is programmed by its DNA to grow upwards towards the light.

Another climbing plant, in another place. Kind of looks like a painting, but it’s real

True, of course, but, here in this scene, that one shoot in the centre does appear to be reaching for the chair leg – perhaps for support? It’s quite common for me to see plants using all kinds of supports to do their upward growing (think Ivy on a wall). I think that in a few weeks, that tiny shoot might just be half way up that chair leg – or maybe higher!

So, as I came across this little scene, I questioned. No, questioned isn’t the right word. When I saw this reaching happening only a day after placing that plant pot in that spot, I made a declarative  statement: I said, ‘There is an intelligence at work here.’

Am I saying that this little plant has a brain that is continually figuring out strategies for the plant’s growth and other behaviours?

Am I saying that there is a ‘god’ up there in some heavenly domain who is in charge of getting plants down here on Earth to grow in the right direction?

No, to both questions. I don’t and can’t accept either of these supposed ‘possibilities’.

But, are there some kind of universal laws that regulate and control how the Universe flows, behaves, evolves and the rest? More likely I think.

Again I am not suggesting there is some kind of controlling ‘entity’ separate from the material universe, or a supercomputer somewhere that’s running the whole thing. More a kind of energy or essence that’s built into all material things, and that is an element of the very existence  of things.

A regulatory principle, I guess you could call it. But not some imposed or externally dictated regulations, laws, or controls. I think it’s more natural than that: existence is its own regulator and controller. Or so it seems to me in my good moments – such as when I witnessed this unfolding and evolving life drama.

Tripping On the Sidewalk

Walking home, returning to the sanctuary of the hermitage, I fell over. Or to be exact, I tripped.

It’s not the first time I’ve tripped in my life, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. Mind you, I’m not supposed to be making speculations about the future; after all, I may never fall over (or trip) again.

Let me share with you how I came to find myself lying on the ground, fully conscious thankfully, with only a few grazes on arms and knees, and a sore spot on the side of my head.

Walking along the sidewalk quite freely, earbuds feeding my ears and my heart my favourite mantra to Ganesha – known as the remover of obstacles and the God of wisdom. (more on the earbud issue later)

At one point I noticed, a few metres ahead, what appeared to be the back of a largish sign board leaning against the base of an electricity pole growing out of the pavement.

Not the actual sidewalk

Without any thought whatsoever, as I came up to that pole, I turned my head to the left to see what the sign read. Next thing I know, is I have the sense of falling. Later I remembered that at the exact moment I turned my head, my foot caught the broken and uneven edge of a slab of the pavement.

I was blessed by two passersby who stopped and helped me back to my feet, and stayed with me as I regained some semblance  of my bearings. Thank you to those two good and kind ones.

Now, I don’t like falling over (well, when you think about it, who does?), but in this case I can say through this fall, I have learned a couple of good lessons.

Presence – or lack thereof. Here I am, the hermit monk who is supposedly constantly practising being present, in the moment, here and now; yet I tripped over what I later discovered was a really obvious, clear obstacle on my path.

We all get distracted, you might be thinking. And, yes, it’s true. We can be paying close attention, fully focused, riveted to and in the moment, and, suddenly distraction barges in – in the form of a thought, an external noise, visual imput, and even a broken pavement. You name it, and mind will use any excuse it can to manifest a distraction.

Another lessen – intimately related to presence –  is pausing, or not! As I noticed that sign coming up, I could have chosen to pause to look at it once I reached it.

Then, rather than being a distraction, looking at that sign would have simply been another moment in the ongoing flow of the present. In other words, there’d have been no tripping.

The actual earbuds in question

Now, to the earbud issue. To be honest, my earbuds have more or less replaced my regular over the ears headphones. Because I was never comfortable going out and about with those clunky things on my head and earbuds have allowed me to listen to music pretty much whenever and wherever  I go. Even to me wearing them, they are barely noticeable. It’s possible that’s the problem right there: unnoticeable.

More than 30 years ago now, I spent every Tuesday evening for a year attending classes at a school of philosophy . To this day I still follow some of the practices I learned there. And, passed to me were so many good lessons, so much good knowledge drawn from many of the world’s spiritual and intellectual traditions. So many of these lessons have stuck with me.

Presence, or rather the benefits and rewards of realizing  the present is all there is, was I would say, one of the cornerstones of those teachings.

One illustration about presence concerned driving, and although at the time I haddn’t learned to drive, it resonated with me. Our teacher told us that, when she was driving, she never listened to music or anything else. She told us that she simply put her full attention on the task at hand: driving.

She described how it often happened that when driving she’d reach her destination with little or no memory of the actual act of driving or any landmarks or events on the trip itself. She said it was if she was somehow unconscious, yet still able to drive ‘on autopilot’ was how she put it.

And of course it’s not a phenomenon limited to driving: how much of our routine daily activity runs on autopilot?

Anyway, back to the other day and me grooving to Ganesh in my ears and tripping in a moment of inattention.

I don’t recall being distracted by the mantra in my head, or moving on autopilot. But, thinking back, I was in one of the busiest sections of the little town that hosts our hermitage. I’d been to the supermarket, the parking lot of which is as busy – and crazy –  as one you would find in any big city.

Just another sidewalk tripper

So, I realise now, I had already kind of set myself up to fall for any distraction that happened to come along. While I don’t really remember myself as being ‘unconscious’ of my surroundings or of the path itself, clearly I wasn’t completely there, not in the here and now sense if you know what I mean. Just an after thought: who remembers ‘being unconscious? Nobody I think!

Whatever I say now, I wasn’t present; I wasn’t fully in the moment, not paying attention to either what I was doing or what was going on around me.

Since my little trip, I have vowed before my hermit community to not ever walk again in a built up and busy area wearing my earbuds.

Not only do I have a sense of danger lurking when I think of the idea of wearing them in those situations, but I also feel that it’s not exactly being present, in the here and now is it?

Another closed cafe on some other trip

Okay, I am very sure you are waiting with great anticipation to learn what what fateful sign, put in my way by the Universal Traffic Controller to push me into changing direction, actually said:

It was a handwritten advertisement for ‘great coffee’ to be had in a cafe across the road. A closed cafe I might add.

On Main Road –  a road that more than lives up to its name –  perhaps there are worse fates awaiting the inattentive than merely tripping on the sidewalk.

Who? Just One of Many Questions

In November last year I published a post on this blog that sought to answer the question, Why do I pray?
In that post I said that this question is one of the big ‘Who am I’, Self-Enquiry questions.

I also claimed in that post that it was (is) a core aspiration of mine that I make prayer a ‘whole of life activity’. To quote me from that post:

You see, I want to pray, and make my whole life a prayer. A prayer of praise and devotion; a prayer of gratitude and loving; and a prayer of service to all beings .

Anyway, moving along to today’s post.

That question, why do I pray, is one I ask myself quite often. It’s not a one time enquiry you can tick off and move on from. The contemplation of why pray is an ongoing and evolving thing.

A couple of days ago, as I once again reflected on this particular question, it occured to me that perhaps it wasn’t the only one I needed to be asking myself if I am to think about my prayer life in any depth. Actually, the same could be said for pretty much anything one is trying to find answers to.

Indeed, many writers – particularly story tellers and journalists – will be aware of the series of questions often used to get to the truth of something:

Who? What? When? Where? Why? and How?

Commonly refered to as the ‘The Five W Questions’ (although there is that H in the mix leading to some calling them the WH Questions), these questions asked correctly and thoughtfully, will help to ensure a comprehensive and complete answer to any enquiry.

The next thought popping in suggested that it might be a great idea to apply the W Questions (including the H) to me and my prayer life.

At first I thought it seemed like a neat challenge, a kind of intellectual exercise that would be interesting. Then, though, after thinking about it some more, I realised that contrary to being just some mental challenge, asking myself these questions in relation to my prayer life, might actually be essential.

Especially if I am to some day reach fulfillment of my aspiration to make of my whole life a prayer. It’s the only way, I reasoned, that I would be able to get complete picture of the state of my prayer life.

Of course I have to wonder if it is indeed possible to ever get a ‘complete picture’ of a phenomenon such as an individual’s prayer life. Still, let’s just plunge in, see where it goes, what happens, how it works.

Who

There are actually two ‘who’ questions that I’d like to try to answer, both essential to our enquiry:

Who is it that’s praying? And Who do I pray to?

The answer to the first question is obvious: it’s me doing the praying. But, which me exactly? Not the me who is the true Self, the Absolute Reality. The reason why will become clear as we go along.

No, the me doing the praying is what we might call the body mind complex, the me that lives in the material world as a material being. The impulse to pray, what to pray, who to pray to and all the rest arises in the mind.

Mind you, I along with so many others I’m sure, like to say that I pray with and from my heart, my spiritual heart. But then I do also know that emotions originate as thoughts in the mind. Of course that does not lessen the significance of such emotions and the prayers, love, or devotion that follows.

Now, who do I pray to? I know it’s going to sound a bit odd, flippant and even silly, but as I think about it, I realise that I do in fact pray to everyone and to everything.

Which is to say, my prayers are directed to that invisible ‘something’ that pervades and permeates – and actually is  – everything that exists. You could say that I pray to existence itself. There is nothing or nobody else.

Of course it’s not exactly an easy thing to get a handle on praying to ‘everything and everybody’. I mean, where does one direct their attention? Who or what does one address or speak to? The answer is a lot more straightforward than you might think at first.

Because my prayers are to that amorphous ‘everything and everybody’ it’s quite easy to select one or more resonating and meaningful somethings or somebodys as the objects of my prayer.

There are many spiritual or religious traditions in the world, all with their preferred names and forms of the Divine (or Existence as I named it earlier). Each of these manifestations of the Divine has its own characteristics, their own place in the Universe. They each play their own roles in the cosmic order.

As such there are more or less an infinite number of choices for me to have as foci for my prayer life. I will try to share with you a few of my personal pantheon.

Om: The Essence of Brahman, Absolute Reality

The Existence I’ve mentioned a couple of times is named by some Brahman, the Ultimate Reality, the everything and everybody that I was talking about.

So, I might sometimes pray to Brahman. Mainly it’s an aspirational prayer as I seek to realise fully my already existent oneness with the Ultimate Reality.

Then there is Ishvara, which is probably closer to what most would recognise as God – a personal supreme being, Or, in some traditions Ishvara simply refers to the one or more deities that an individual chooses as objects of her or his devotion.

Centre of Attention on the Hermitage temple alter

Also included in my personal pantheon, are the Divine Mother, Kirishna, Ganesha, Lord Jesus, The Buddha, Sarasvati, as well as other teachers and saints from many traditions who pop in and out of my prayers, seemingly at random.

My prayers are of praise and/or gratitude to the teacher, deity or saint who seems to me at that moment to be most linked to my current circumstances and thoughts.

All of this I call prayer. To God. Or Brahman or Ishvara. Or very often, simply My Lord,

Divine Mother

And in Conclusion: According to the Text Message

Welcome to the continuation and conclusion of the topic we were discussing in our last post. We are spending some time reflecting on a text message I received some days ago.

A multi layered text and one full of treasures on leading a purposeful and satisfying spiritual or inner life. If you missed it, please feel free to visit that post here.

In that previous post I included an image of the text in question, and we ended up looking rather deeply and prayerfully at the first sentence in the text:

Go sit in your cell and your cell with teach you everything.

In today’s post I hope to share with you my contemplation and rigorous reflections on the remainder of the text message.

So, let’s carry on with the next little bit of that text message.

Create your own inner world

This little gem speaks directly to the notion that it is your body and mind themselves that are the primary places in which you dwell; they are your cell that you carry around with you (or perhaps it is they that carry you around) always and everywhere.

And in that cell, where you dwell, you are the creator of the world. It needn’t be a fantasy world, as we might think of an inner world we create for ourselves. It need not be made up of wishful thinking, dreams, or endless thinking about the past, future, fears, regrets and all the other stuff we are prone to.

Rather it can be a place where you content yourself with the constant efforts to remain in the present; it can be a place in which your disciplined and focused mind and heart remain on those self enquiry questions which will ultimately lead you to the full realisation of who you really are, what is your true nature.

There’s a paradox here it occurs to me as I type: while everything that exists in the universe is simply a manifestation of Absolute Reality, (and that includes you and me obviously) the only way to actually discover or realise this knowledge is by delving deeply in our own hearts and minds – and sitting in our cells. We won’t find it ‘out there’.

The outer world will reflect the inner peace

So, with all this inner – self – enquiry cause the big shift? Will you see and experience only bliss and happiness? Will the ills of your body suddenly vanish never to return?
Well, yes. And no.

No because as living entities we are able to do our bit in making our lives what they can be; we can do our part in keeping a healthy body and mind; we can play our part in making the world a better place for all living beings.

Ultimately, though, it is the natural order, the natural laws of the universe that controls, directs, and manifests how all of the material world – including us obviously – operates and works itself out.

Yes, because the committed and rigorous discipline necessary to sit in our cells and enquire into our true natures, will over time and step by step help us to change the way we look at all the troubles and events of the world and our own minds and bodies. Our perspective will undergo a big shift (not quite the one mentioned earlier; this one’s for real).

You see, there are three sources from which our suffering come from: other people, nature, and our own bodies and minds. Self-Enquiry will lead us to realise that our true nature is in fact the totality of all there is, the Absolute Reality.

After this realisation of the truth of our natures, the sources of suffering (other people, nature, and our own body and mind) are still going to be there, going about their business as usual. It’s just that we won’t be as affected by them like we were before; we won’t suffer as we once did.

Maintain Equilibrium

Having read this far you might well be thinking that, yes indeed, the realisation of our true natures, the evolving knowledge that we are not simply the mind and body, and that we are in fact the Absolute Reality, just might lead to a life of balance, of equilibrium. Of calm in the face of crises and problems, peace in the wake of strife.

Well, umm yes, that’s all entirely true. But as for me, I can say I’m nowhere near that state yet. And I suspect nor are most people, and most of us will be trying for a few more lifetimes (if there are any more that is) before we make it.
Mind you, equilibrium does seem to come in little bursts, like a kind of reconditioning process. Sometimes I realise that I am indeed acting more calmly, with more equanimity to situations that might once have thrown me completely off balance.

I’ll admit, though it’s an issue that frustrates me (you see? That proves I’m still identifying with and attached to, the idea that I am a body and mind only). I ask myself, how come with all the spiritual practice, the meditation, and all the sitting in my cell, I can still suffer with annoyance and irritation or collapse with existential angst, rant at injustice … You know what I’m talking about.

All I can do, all any of us can do, is persevere with the enquiry into self; Who is it exactly that’s losing it right now?
Of course it’s ‘me’, but is it really? It is the mind and its emotions and the ego. But it isn’t me, and it’s not you.

Be Still

One of the beauties of this wonderful text message, is that the individual injunctions have built – are building – one upon the other in a nicely logical and understandable way.

Now, the advice to be still: Of course we can take it at face value and take it to mean we are to literally sit with our bodies very still in the one place, in the one spot. Not moving.

Well, it seems the Desert Fathers and Mothers  had a saying or a word of advice to fit every situation. I came across a quote from Abba Ammonas, that sits as a kind of caveat, or perhaps a sort of reality check when thinking of sitting still:

A person may remain for a hundred years in his [sic] cell without learning to live in the cell.

Meaning obviously, that thinking we are still doesn’t mean we actually are still. Well, yes it does actually. But it’s only a part of the picture that we name stillness.

For example, right this moment I am making these notes, I’m looking up references online, listening to Bob Marley on my headphones, and every few minutes I’m taking a sip of tea.

Yet I feel quite still. I sense real focus on every one of these particular tasks as I’m performing them. I am feeling pretty calm and even a tad relaxed. Believe it, for me these are big achievements. Actually this very much speaks to a concept called Action in Inaction, and Inaction in Action. If you’re interested, there’s a fascination article here.

In other words, I think I am actually being still. My thoughts are focused as I said. I’m even in the moment well enough to pause everything else to listen to something from Bob in my ear that speaks to me.

I don’t think anyone can tell you how to be still. Not only is it going to be different from every one of us, being still will always vary and fluctuate in quality and degree. You might say it’s one of those ‘it depends’ kind of things.

I am

Ask yourself: Who am I? Usually the answer comes back: I am … followed by a name, designation, label, an identity of some kind.

Nothing wrong with this. In fact it is natural: it’s how members of our species place ourselves – and everyone else – in the order of things; we need to know our position and that of others in order to negotiate our way through and in the world.

So, what happens when I ask myself that big who am I question? Well, I could answer: I am Paul, I am a hermit, I am a writer, I am servant of God, I am tall, I am a friend, I am a …

Stop! These are all things I do or roles I take on and fill by choice or otherwise. They’re not me, though they are ways for me to describe the ‘me’ that exists and acts in the material world.

It seems according to Ramana‘s teachings on Self-Enquiry that the only way we can discover who or what we are is to list instead what we are not.

Neti Neti it’s called: not this, not this. But most of us feel very strongly that we do in fact exist. In other words we are – or referring to myself – I am.

If I’m not to confuse myself with the misidentification , the temporary labels, and other limiting beliefs as I try to answer my own Who am I? question, then the best I can do is metaphorically shrug my shoulders and answer, ‘Well, I am’.

Which means I think we’ve reached the point where we may finally realise that there is actually no answer to our enquiry; we simply are.

There is nothing to ask; nothing to answer. Only pure being, as in existing: the Absolute Reality. There’s nobody to do the asking.

And in the example of this text message the expression I am, speaks as a kind of signature of the text sender. No names, no labels or self-identifiers or anything else. I aim.

Some musings for you

Last, but most definitely not least is this, a final PS if we can call it that. A reminder that I am to contemplate on all the above, that I am to reflect on the words of the text.

And I’m very happy that I’ve spent this time sharing that contemplation, those reflections, with you.

I am. You are. We are
(actually there is only I am, but you know what I mean

When You Say It All in a Text Message

It wouldn’t be quite correct to say that I never get calls or texts on my phone. What would be correct is to say is that the vast majority are to do with what I might call The Bureaucracy: Reminders of Doctor and dentist appointments, notices from various government bodies, library notices; all that kind of thing.

And there is another emerging category that’s actually a lot more welcome: while my partner hermit and I have always phoned each other, lately we’ve been texting more and more as an extra way to communicate with each other.

Sometimes these texts are about the mundane things we all have to do in the world, but then there’s another dimension in which texting allows us to keep in touch with each other’s feelings, thoughts, doings, and simply as a means of keeping the connection open and strong.

The other day, for example, such a text arrived unannounced in my phone. Like some I get from The Bureaucracy, this one was essentially a little series of reminders. But rather than being about the things of the outside world, these ones, in this text, spoke directly and deeply to the enrichment of the inner life – my inner life.

Powerful messages, all of them, that really go to the heart of one’s (my) efforts to live a life more centred on my spiritual quest and my commitment to living more in sync with Absolute Reality.

On first reading of this text (and on each rereading, of which there have been many), I really felt strongly that I needed to contemplate deeply and prayerfully on the pieces of this whole. And, as well, to share my reflections with you.

Sit in your cell as in Paradise

This little – yet tremendous – injunction references an answer to a question posed to Abba Moses, one of the early Desert Fathers:

Go sit in your cell and your cell will teach you everything.

Essentially Moses’ advice is, remain within the confines of your dwelling place – whatever and wherever form that place takes. This can be a literal geographical location, or even your own body as it moves in the world. We all have a body, we all dwell there.

Sitting in one’s cell is not a simple or passive activity. It is in fact hard work as we wrestle with the mad monkey mind, and attempt to grow spiritually.

So, what about the ‘as in Paradise’ bit? Well, to me this feels very much like thinking of one’s cell as the place to be. What I mean to say is that it’s the only you can possibly be in right now, in the present of the here and now.

It’s not about judgements of is it good or bad, pleasant or unpleasant, painful or not. Just acceptance of where youu’re at right now. Doesn’t mean you’re stuck there and by no means suggests you resign yourself to your circumstances. It simply means you see it like it is, at this moment.

And it’s about understanding that, while you are in that place, it’s where you know you need to be. Your cell – your dwelling place – has within it everything you need to live, grow, learn, and prosper in the spiritual life.

Whatever the ‘place’ you are in is like, we can try to cocoon ourselves, make a space within the space, even if it is just being aware of our bodies sitting in the space. Cocoon myself is an expression I’ve been using lately to describe the act of isolating myself in any way I can from my surroundings. This can apply on the macro scale or the micro as we seek to centre ourselves and find quiet and a peaceful place.

It’s not as if in this cocoon (or whatever it might be)  that  all will be bliss and light all of a sudden. No, I think the suggestion here is we try to develop an attitude of non-attachment towards the things of the world that trouble us, those things that cause us suffering, precisely because we are attached to them.

That is the purpose of sitting in your cell. That is the everything that your cell will teach you.

You know my friends, I’m a bit weary tonight, and with your permission I will continue with this sharing of my contemplation, my reflections, in my next post.

Thank you for staying with me.

Peace and love

Paul the Hermit