A Story of a Door

The walk from the Hermitage to the coffee shop at the Village Green takes around five minutes or so. This morning, noticing a pause in the rain, we thought we might take the opportunity to get some fresh air and a walk, at the end of which there would be coffee. So, we stepped bravely forward, with the faith that the gods of the rain were indeed taking a break.

‘Look over there, ‘ said my partner hermit as we passed through the centre of the village. ‘There’s a door that can only be opened from the inside.’

‘I’ve never noticed that before,’ I replied, looking across the street to a wall into which was set a door with no visible handles or lock. The only things that suggested that it was in fact a door were the hinges on one side, as well as its size and shape.

Now don’t ask me how many times I’d passed that spot. Most likely dozens of times, on both sides of the road. Still, now that I had been shown it, I was intrigued. Mentally I was captured: I thought, what a wonderful thing: the one or ones on the other side of the door have complete control over who or what is allowed to enter.

With such a door, one that only opens from your side, you could easily choose to rarely – or even never – open it. Ah, peace at last went my thoughts.

But, right away, those thoughts were dismissed, sent packing: too simplistic, too extreme, to heavy a response. Though, you know, I do feel strongly that such a response to the world – shutting it all out completely – is perfectly understandable, completely reasonable, and oftentimes even an absolute necessity .

Still, I had that feeling towards my reactive thoughts of ‘too extreme’ (inner editor’s note: he has no idea what he’s saying does he? If you ask me, right this minute he will be thinking his initial reaction was spot on and he’d love to have a door like that. Anyway, we’ll let him have it his way).

Some further, more careful thought is required here I think. For a start, here’s a question: If I were to keep the door shut all the time, how would I ever be able to allow my own light, my own love, my own Self, out into the world?

Maybe there’s a way to keep the door open sometimes, then at other times choose to keep it closed to bar access to unwanted intruders in the form of people, thoughts, events, emotions and so on.

After all, it is my door (in this little fantasy at least), the door to the inside, where resides the ‘real’ me, the Self within, beyond and above, the physical form that I so tenaciously cling to as as being the real me. Talk about attachment!

Perhaps slightly exagerated, but this is close to how I see my actual door working as distinct from the story I’m telling in this post.

Where was I? Oh yes. With that door that opens only from the inside, I might come – eventually – to realise that there is nothing to disturb me – unless I open the door and let whoever or whatever that is unwanted, through the door.

I am my own gatekeeper, and without my consent my gate (door) cannot be opened and entered.

And, getting back to the choices I am able to make to sometimes open the door to allow some light and love to flow out from me, out the door and into the world. The more I’m able to discern when, and for how long, to open the door as a way to control what comes in, to what can reach me, the more resources of said love and light I shall be able to build up.

Which, in turn, will lead to more and more opportunities I’ll have to open the door in order to share some of that good.

I can envisage a state reached where my door could quite possibly be left to stand ajar all the time.

You see, the more love and light pouring out, the less that disturbs me can get in. Love and light is transforming, isn’t it?

Yes. Now I’ve noticed – recognised – the door that can only be opened from the inside: It’s me! Now, where did I leave my door keys?

What Will Please You Lord? A Prayer Contemplated

Namaste my friends

In my last post I reflected upon the meaning for me personally of a Bhagavad Gita verse that had particularly struck me as I carried on with my renewed inspiration to read the text from the beginning.

Today, I didn’t even get to the place where my reading left off yesterday. Before reading I like to pray some or all the prayers I have pasted in the front (and the back now). As I was deep into this practice, one prayer in particular stopped me, just as with that verse yesterday.

This one seemed to speak to me, asking ‘What do I mean to you?’ So, I made a mental note (always a risky proposition with me), and carried on with my prayers, determined to take time later to think about that prayer, and try to answer its question. So, here I am, later in the day, making these notes.

The prayer itself I am fairly sure comes from Thomas Merton, monk, mystic, and writer. Not completely sure, but I know that whoever composed it was one clearly inclined towards living the life of the mystic.

What will please you Lord?
Let me grow in wisdom,
become purified,
and do your will.

For whoever composed this prayer, it is an expression of a genuine longing. I can say that for me it is a deep plea, expresses my own longing. Each time I recite it, in fact, I can say that, although this is the first time I’ve addressed the big what does it mean question, I do sense the longing and grasp the meanings of the various words and ideas in the prayer. Actually, now I think about it, I do say this prayer or parts thereof in one form or another very often.

What will please you Lord?

When I begin to pray these words, what I feel I am actually doing is asking the Universe, the Divine, Self, God – the I AM – how can I live my life so that it is attuned to the natural order and flow of the Universe.

I am asking, what do I need to do to let go of attachments to worldly things which arise from material desires? How do I find the grace to accept when things aren’t going completely my way?

In other words, I’m asking how can i live a good, truthful, happy life in harmony with all other beings and with the Universe.

Let me grow in wisdom

Another of my prayer pages. This one devoted to Maa Saraswati, goddess of, among other things, wisdom

A good place to start, a great first step. But, again I have to ask myself, what does growing in wisdom mean to me?

To me wisdom is not merely knowledge. Though, having said that wisdom needs to rest on a firm foundation of knowledge, otherwise what’s there to be ‘wise’ about?

I’m not talking about worldly knowledge here, though obviously it takes some degree of knowledge for any of us to live in the world. Also it’s relevant to the next part of our prayer; we’ll see that soon.

I’m referring instead to a special kind of knowledge that will (I pray) lead me somewhere closer to acquiring some degree of wisdom – one day.

Self-knowledge is what I’m getting at. And I go about my attempt to obtain self-knowledge in a couple of different ways. I study, sacred texts like the Bhagavad Gita, as well as the words of those wiser than me (which is rather a large selection of people I can tell you) both living and historical.

I meditate (not nearly enough!) as a way to enquire into my own ‘real’ or true nature: who am I? what am I? Just digging deep within to reach some realisation of the answers to those questions.

When I have answered those questions, I will understand that I have reached a true level of self-knowledge. I sense that, at least being on the path to that realisation, I would never be able to develop any level of wisdom.

Mind you, I do feel that all humans are born with some degree of wisdom potential ‘built in’ so to say. As for me, I don’t feel especially wise just yet.

Become purified

For me, becoming purified goes hand in hand with the cultivation of wisdom. In fact I would say that in the very efforts to become purified, it might be possible for me to develop some wisdom as a result of those efforts.

So, here we go again: What does it mean? To become purified? For me it means living a Dharmic life. By Dharmic I mean a life steered and driven by Truth, Right Living, Right Speech, Right Conduct , Right … The Buddha taught The Noble Eightfold Path. That is in my opinion the very best, topmost, pinnacle of self directed means to living a Dharmic or purified life.

The Eightfold Path is not a set of dogmas, rules, or anything like a list of commandments or instructions . The eight steps are merely signposts, a roadmap, pointers for me to follow in order to purify my life, live a Dharmic life. No behaviours are prescribed: it’s entirely my choice what forms my behaviour, actions, and the rest take.

Obviously the path to becoming purified is a life-long one, though some would say that many lifetimes are required. Personally, I can’t even hint that I might be anywhere near close; some days I feel further away than ever.

But, as I work towards ‘growing in wisdom, with the help of my becoming purified path, I pray that some day I might actually learn what I call proper discernment.

This discernment is the ability to act in the world and to react to the joys and sorrows that are inevitable, with compassion, love, and wisdom. To face those inevitabilities with calm and equanimity. Acting with proper discernment will mean that I am living in Truth.

… and do your will

As I reread the words I’ve just written, I realise that, by the time I reach the state described in that last paragraph, I will have succeeded in ‘doing your will.
I will have aligned my self perfectly with the order of the Universe. I will know my place as a tiny fragment of that very order.

If I’m honest however, I have to say that I think it’s going to be a very very long time before such a state come to pass. So, what to do in the meantime?

Well, along with my attempts to live Dharmically, and to cultivate wisdom, I have committed myself to a life of devotion. Devotion, prayer, contemplation.

Devotion to what? To whom?

To the Universe, Divinity, God; all that is represented by all those names we humans have put on the Absolute Reality, that is all there is.

Everything. And everybody, is what I’m saying. There really is no separation except a kind of superficial one we allow ourselves to imagine by applying so many names and forms to the material objects, things and so on, that appear to us as separate one from another, whereas there is in fact only one, without a second.

That’s where the contemplation comes in. It’s a going within, inward to what we imagine is a kind of ‘space’ where all merges into one, the one that is all there is.

I think that’s what ‘pleases the Lord’. While I am indescribably, gravely, deficient at all the steps described above, one course I know to be right for me is to continue to engage with those steps, and to devote myself and my life to the Divine, to the Truth.

That’s what pleases me. I pray that it pleases the Lord.

Friend Or Foe?

Your enemies will now question your capabilities. Is there anything more painful and shameful than that?

Bhagavad Gita 2:36

Thanks to inspiration from my partner hermit, I’ve once again begun reading Bhagavad Gita from the beginning. The quoted verse came up this morning as I continued through chapter 2.

Setting the scene, the Bhagavad Gita is a conversation between Krishna (God) and Arjuna, a famous warrior who’s leading the army of the ‘good guys’. The context is actually a metaphor for the battle that goes on constantly between what some call the Higher Self (represented by Krishna of course), and our lower selves, our ego, mind, and the rest of the worldly us (represented by the very worldly Arjuna).

Knowing that, sometimes a verse will jump out at me as being in some direct way related to me. This verse, this morning seemed spookily all knowing about my mood of just slightly earlier.

Before we move on, I should point out that Arjuna has just realised that if the battle goes ahead, he’s going to have to kill many relatives and friends, teachers, and others he respects. And he’s just decided he’s not going to do it and sits down depressed and dejected on his chariot.

Now while I personally applaud this decision (he even says it might be better if he went off into the forest and lived the life of a wandering monk rather than be in this battle), I have to remind myself that it’s not for real, it’s a metaphor for the battle between our two selves.

Krishna says to Arjuna that you’re going to look really bad if you don’t fight the fight to uphold the Truth as you know it. Lesson number one when studying the Gita: don’t sweat the context!

Anyway, to our current story.

I’d just finished my breakfast cup of tea, and I knew it was time to ‘get on with the day’ as the saying goes. Today, though, Tamas** was strong. Which left me feeling, I don’t really want to get on with the day.

Instead I felt I wanted to not get on with anything; I wanted to lie down and sleep, and not think about anything, or do anything else either!

This picture is called Lunchtime Sleeper but it’s how I felt after breakfast this morning!

Mind you, not in the ’empty your mind of random thoughts, relax the body, realise the Divine’ kind of mood. No, more like ‘lay down, block out everything, blank the mind, sleep.’ Blank as it blot out!

Then, the famous second thought kicks in: No, I said to myself. I will not allow Tamas to take control. So, I got up, brushed my teeth, washed my face, and got ready to begin my practice.

I guess you could say that Tamas finds it easy to take control when one’s mind is in enemy mode as I like to call it (somewhere else in the Gita, Krishna says the mind can be our friend or our enemy).

My mind in particular doesn’t usually need a lot of help to disparage me, put me down. Getting me to question my own capabilities is one of its favourite activities – sometimes.

And it’s exactly right, perhaps I should be questioning myself: If I allow Tamas (mind and ego etc) to have free rein, the pain and the shame is all I feel. Well, perhaps not all, and not always, but still, it’s not a good thing.

So, what’s going on now? I’ve been reading Bhagavad Gita, and now I’m making these notes. Tamas is on the run and my mind is being ever so friendly.

**Tamas is that aspect of our (human) nature that has us leaning towards lethargy, laziness, that ‘I can’t be bothered’ feeling, and excess sleep, and all the other slothful stuff. Blotting out, as I termed it earlier.

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

You Are Invited to Visit the New Page on the Blog

Have you seen the new page on the blog? It’s called Poems of Devotion (no prizes for guessing what’s on that page).

What you’ll see when you get there!

You are warmly invited to head over there to read and enjoy a poem. Or perhaps two, or seven! The choice is yours.

The page, as you already guessed, seeing right through the extremely obscure title, is dedicated solely to devotional poems I have composed. Many have been written in recent times, though there are some which are, well, no longer the new kids on the block (get it? New kids on the block? New page on the blog? Oh, okay, never mind).

I hope to continue my occasional practice of featuring a poem in a post (perhaps with its story or some other commentary). But, in time, all my devotional poetic pieces will be on the new page.

You are very welcome to visit the page, Poems of Devotion, to read, to contemplate, and if you so wish, copy anything you find there for your own reflections or to share with others.

Love & beauty; What else is there?

I’m grateful that I have come somehow to compose these poems of praise and love. I call it a gift of grace that has been granted me. It is a gift I now ask that I may share with you.

Thank you

Paul the hermit

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.