The Q&A in the Scripture Part 3

Welcome to another installment in our occasional series (see links to all previous installments at the end of this post) looking at some of the answers given by Krishna to his cousin Uddhava during a kind of Q&A session that takes place as both are about to leave their hometown which is on the brink of war. Krishna’s returning to Heaven, while Uddhava is heading for parts – and a future – unknown.

Hence all the questions around living a good true life, all driven by the knowledge that Krishna isn’t going to be around anymore to give Uddhava life advice.

And the question we’re discussing today is certainly a big one. In fact, though it is a single part of a three part question, I felt inclined to give it our full attention. To me it is that significant. In fact, thinking about it now, I could even add here that of all the questions and answers, this one could stand alone as the  question, the  answer.

To the question then, as asked by Uddhava to Krishna:

What is Charity?

Well, although I thought I knew what the word charity meant, and what charity is, I did end up looking it up, just to get a clearer and deeper picture.

Yes, a charity is an organization set up to give aid to those in need. And, as I also knew, charity is the voluntary giving of help – often in the form of money or other material goods – to those in need.

All just as I’d thought. But, then, I came across another entry that filled out the picture for me a little more. In addition to the above, this listing told me that the ‘true meaning‘ of charity is generosity and helpfulness.

Again, it specifies that this generosity, this helpfullness, is usually extended to the ‘suffering and needy’. Still it suggests that charity may be at least a little more universal an attitude toward functioning in the world, a world shared with so many other living beings.

(note from me: This latter definition comes from the Merriam-Webster Dictionary.  I’ve used this dictionary a great deal, and for very many years. It’s been my favourite go to, as they say.

PRESS THE PAUSE BUTTON PLEASE

Right, yes, I hear you loud and clear. Here I am going on as if this is a semantics blog. Sorry about that. Perhaps we should get back on track and allow Krishna to give the answer Uddhava and the rest of us have been waiting for:

Charity is the renunciation of aggression.

Perhaps you can see why I was at first a bit taken by surprise, and I puzzled over it for a while. Then after seeing that Merriam-Webster definition, I knew I’d found a clue: generosity and helpfullness.

Then it came to me: Ahimsa!! No, this is not some obscure exclamation reserved for Eureka! moments. Rather Ahimsa is a foundational principle underpinning many of the great religious traditions of India.

For me, Ahimsa is basically doing no harm, the practice of non-violence towards all living beings, through one’s thoughts, words (speech), attitudes, actions.

However because life is complicated (ie: there are no easy answers), various schools of thought over time have developed a kind of modification in which they say that Ahimsa is choosing to tackle the complexities of our lives in the world in such a way that we do as little harm as possible.

But how, one might ask, can we expand those dictionary definitions to include Ahimsa? Well, as far as I’ve been able to think about it so far, I’d say that Krishna’s answer itself is the root that we can graft those definitions onto

Which is to say, renouncing aggression is that root, that foundation on which to base the cultivation of charity and a charitable attitude and manner in our relationship with ourselves, with all other beings, and with the planet (and the rest of the Universe too of course).

(By the way, thank you to my Partner Hermit for that word: charitable. Not that I didn’t already know the word, obviously, it’s just that at the time I just could not find it anywhere in my slow-moving brain!)

That open, generous, helpful, compassionate, patient, kind, thoughtful (oh let me count the applicable words!), that charitable demeanour and behaviours with which we engage with the world (and with ourselves) are the result of removing aggression from our thoughts, words, and deeds.

Actually, thinking about cause and effect, and effect and cause, for a second: the way towards that state of charity is the same. In other words the means and the end don’t only justify each other, they are each other. One thing.

Don’t be ready for fight or flight each time you communicate with your boss, or your spouse, or your child, or your parent. Or with anyone else in any situation you find yourself in.

Listen to and observe with patience, care, compassion, and your full attention, the needs of others. Don’t assume you know best. And include yourself in this paying attention.

Look before you leap. Stop, listen, think, pause, before jumping into any situation that needs understanding, calm, quiet and time to alleviate any possible confusions, or misunderstandings.

If you make a mistake (or is it when?), don’t be so hard (aggression?) on yourself. Be just as open, friendly, forgiving, patient and the rest, with you as you would like to be with everyone else.

As to ‘generosity and helpfullness to the needy and suffering’? Well, all living beings suffer simply in the act of living itself. We are all well aware of this. The degree and forms of this suffering (and the needs that cause the suffering) will always vary, but even so, they are inevitable.

There’s a small mantra or prayer, I often use to end other prayers or reading, that I’ve always liked a lot:

Om Shanti, Shanti, Shanti

I have always thought that this was simply a prayer to the Divine that included the repetition of the word for peace three times.

Of course it is that, but recently I heard that it’s structured in this way with the three repetitions to make of it a deeper or more universal prayer:

Shanti: Peace within myself
Shanti: Peace to all living beings
Shanti: Peace to the world itself

I may have the words slightly off, but the essence is there. Anyway, for me this really does sound like Charity.

If you’ve missed earlier posts in this series please click on the links below

New Series Coming Soon: An Introduction

The Q&A in the Scripture: Part 1

The Q&A in the Scripture Part 2

Spotted on a Sand dune: A Poetic Sharing

With the current hermitage located not so much on the side of the road, as right on the side of a large sand dune system, you might imagine that I am at and on the beach every day.

While almost every day, I walk the track that follows the crest of the dunes in this particular area, I’ve only actually gone down to the beach itself a handful of times.

So, yesterday as start to my resolve to make amends for this omission, I climbed the dune, ignored the crest track leading left and right, and continued straight on and down the other side of the dune, and onto the beach itself. My intent was to spend an hour or so walking along the tide line.

And so it was.

Judging by such rare experience of the beach itself, I might easily say I am no ‘beachcomber’; no discoverer of coastal treasures, little natural beauties from the sea, or even the occasional oddity one might expect washed up. Until yesterday that is.

Not that I went to ‘comb’ the beach: rather I was there trying to put myself on the receiving end so to speak, to be a receptacle for what I might be blessed with (not to forget the need for exercise and movement).

And so it was.

This sense of grace and blessings, I hope I’ve conveyed in the small poetic effort (as well as its companion photo) that I now share with you.

SPOTTED ON THE SAND DUNE

Strolling (briskly mind you) along the sands,
There I was – deep in the liminal zone.
Ankle-deep – sometimes – seawater cooling my feet.
One way to receive Varuna’s blessings.

Back on dry sands (still in the liminal zone) I pause
to examine a spiral shell – an elegant and delicate sea creature.
It lives. Reverently, I move it to deeper water.

As I rise from my small task of union, of reunion,
I glance – still within the liminal zone – upwards.
There, near the crest of the sand dune sits a chair.
An armchair I spotted right there on the sand dune.

There it was, facing me – and the sea – in the middle of nowhere.
Though this is clearly somewhere for somebody.
The perfect perch for taking in
Pacific views.

Empty chair, lonely sight
overlooking the liminal zone.

When One Word is Actually Two & Becomes One Again

‘It’s good practis/ce sitting out here.’ So said my partner hermit as we sat sipping post evening meal tea on our little front porch that happens to face exactly due west.

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask: ‘Do you mean it’s a good thing (practice) to be doing regularly as in Sadhana,  a spiritual practice? In other words is it a good habit to cultivate?

‘Or do you mean it’s good as a kind of training – as practise – in improving our ability to sit in quiet and stillness?’

As I say, these questions were on the tip of my tongue, but then: Blog Alert!!. So, in a rare moment of triumph I managed to hold my tongue (metaphorically speaking) and let those questions sift through my mind so that later (it’s now the next day) a post to share with you might emerge.

So, here we are, setting the scene for this post. I know it’s about words, about language. Semantics is what it could be about, given that it’s about words and their meanings.

But, aren’t words simply symbols for the things they describe or represent? And so often semantics involves quibbles over meanings.

So let’s not make this about semantics, no quibbling required here. You see what set off the Blog Alert!!! was that here was the one word, that is actually two distinct words each with their own meanings, that just happen to sound alike.

Still no quibbling though: we don’t need to pick and choose between meanings – actual and/or intended. Two words, two symbols, two meanings (one for each word that is), so we can choose not to choose – remember no quibbling.

We can realise that in the context, both words are equal and correct. Both may be acknowledged as being meaningful to and in the moment, to the situation.

Lately I think I’ve been saying quite a lot about silence quiet – quietude – peace and calm. Stillness also. All are the same thing: all are states in which we might realise the truth of our natures as divine.

Same Sun Another time & place

Anyway, we had just finished our evening meal, and now sat with tea, having just witnessed the last remnants of the sun sink below the horizon (or was it the horizon coming up to meet and finally hide the sun?).

Quietly sitting, relaxing you might say, in post sunset peace and quiet, with only the occasional and softly spoken conversation going on.

Then that comment from my partner hermit, sharing that sitting as we were is good practis/ce.

Certainly for one such as me who has great difficulties in being quiet, being still, and cultivating silence, such occasions of quiet sitting (with tea naturally) is excellent practise, good training in the changing of long-established and conditioned habits and behaviours.

And, as such, it is a most excellent practice to cultivate, a great thing to do (I’d say action to take, but somehow that feels not quite right) to cultivate stillness and silence. I’ve written elsewhere that to cultivate or to rediscover silence is to realise that silence already existent as the divine, as consciousness, as all and everything.

My partner hermit is one of the wise ones, a sage. One spoken word that actually contains two words, two symbols, each with its own meaning, that finally merge into One.

No quibbling.

The Q&A in the Scripture: Part 2

Namaste

And welcome to Part 2 of The Q&A in the Scripture series in which we are looking at the answers given by Krishna to a list of questions asked by his cousin Uddhava in a scripture called the Uddhava Gita.

Remember the scene? Uddhava has asked Krishna a pile of questions about how to live a good life, how to live in the world with discernment.

These questions have become urgent because the cousins are about to leave their hometown which is on the brink of war. Both will be going their separate ways and both know they won’t be seeing each other for a while – perhaps never again.

Anyway, moving right along: In our last installment, we had Uddhava asking the first of his questions; this one happens to have two parts:

What is quietude and what is self-control?

We discovered that quietude is not the state in which one finds peace, silence, our true selves, or the Divine, but is itself that consciousness, that pervades and permeates all that is, silence, peace. In other words, quietude is  the Divine itself.

In the present post, we move to the second of Uddhava’s two-part question: what is self-control? Krishna’s answer is excellently short and sweet:

Dama  (self-control) is restraint of the senses.

Krishna in his response, makes it clear that restraining the (one’s own) senses includes mind as a kind of sixth sense in addition to the five physical senses. In the context you could almost say that it’s his mind that Uddhava is in most need of restraining. Maybe that’s the message for all of us?

Well, we are all well aware of the ways in which we have tried to control our senses; Uddhava knows too. But look at the situation these two cousins find themselves in:

It’s fine for Krishna: he’s returning home to Heaven, or wherever. But, Uddhava, who is also about to leave, is facing more uncertain prospects. He’s experiencing great turmoil, and fear over his and his familiy’s safety as the threat of war closes in. Most likely he’s also grieving over having to go into exile from his ancestral home.

Of course he’d be fearful for the future: where will he go? What will he do? How will he protect and provide for his family? Like I said, an onslaught of mental and emotional anguish.

Still, it does seem that Uddhava is maintaining quite a steady presence of mind. He’s thinking about the future; he is clear about the sort of stuff he needs to find out from his cousin (remember Krishna is God) in order to put and keep his life on the right track despite the challenges facing him now and in the future.

Then there’s the fact that this self-control thing is only one question on a list of 36. Clearly Uddhava is looking for a lot of advice.

Restrain the senses – all six of them – Krishna says. But how? What does it mean, ‘restrain the senses’? I think I alluded to the notion that we all have some ideas, some clues, about how we as individuals might restrain them, but let’s personalise this: What does it mean for me to restrain my senses?

Actually, now I’ve made that suggestion, I feel overwhelmed: Where would I start? Surely I need to do a whole series of posts, just on this one topic alone?

Oh wait, I can start right there. Exaggeration, hyperbole, over-dramatising, catastrophizing, all perfect examples of emotional reactions leaping from an unrestrained senses central: my mind.

Let’s put aside that mental stuff for a little while, and just say that all those emotional responses could do with a bit more restraining training. Just looking at the physical senses to begin with, I can easily say that they also, at least some of them sometimes, need various degrees of working on.

First, my sense of taste: it goes into overdrive sometimes, and then I eat too much. Not so much as in the past, but the restraint has a way to go still.

My sense of sight is pretty good, well restrained for the most part. But there are times when I lapse into old habits and spend too much time looking at a screen and scrolling in a mindless kind of way. Getting there though!

As for my sense of hearing: You might remember a post from a while ago when I talked about letting go of much of my music collection, some of which I’ve listened to my whole life.  I’m doing this because so much of what used to be ‘my favourite’ songs or artists, no longer serve my spiritual growth, nor does much of it reflect the view of life and the world that I’m trying to cultivate.

Well, I’ve made a good start, but occasionally I slip and find myself humming old tunes, or listening to an album that I really ‘should have’ deleted already. Restrained? Sort of, and I’m still encouraged.

Enough! Let’s get straight to the biggie: my mind. If I’m honest, I have to say that my mind, while not exactly in full agreement with my efforts at restraint, is starting to get into sync with me and my aspirations for a more controlled mind.

But still, those previously mentioned emotional reactions like exaggeration, over-dramatising and the rest, are still there. Falling into line, it’s true, still … .

Then there is the (more than) occasional first port of call reactions to pieces of news of various kinds: I’m prone to ask, just as I imagine Uddhava might have: Why don’t ‘they’ control themselves? Why can’t he or she or such and such country or politician show a little restraint?

Yes, I know, we’re all guilty of this one to some degree or other.

My quickness to anger is not quite, but almost, might soon be, won’t be long before it is, a thing of the past.

Then, there’s my tendency to ruminate: rehash endlessly real and imagined events and other stuff from the past – as well as the always imagined possibilities (as well as the impossibilities) for the future.

Again, I know I’m not alone in this emotional roller coaster ride, and I do know that I am nowhere near as much of a ruminator as I was; I have made great strides, significant inroads, and I am encouraged that the end of rumination is getting closer!

And now, here is the one thing I tend to think of one of my biggest, most tiresome and tedious, most annoying conditioned emotional responses: I talk too much. Not as much as I used to, but still too much for my comfort, and for the peace of mind of those around me. More restraint is called for.

Restraint has played its part in reducing my talking. But in a sense the major ally has been the ongoing quest I’m engaged in to discover my true nature, as consciousness, which is really my oneness with all that is.

And here our second question and answer leads us right back to the first: quietude.

I wrote in that post:

Quietude, calmness, peace of mind, are not where  you will find God, consciousness, or whatever we call it.  Quietude and the rest are God. They are consciousness.

Or putting it the other way round: cultivate silence, calm, peace of mind, and your senses will no longer need to be restrained. Your whole Self, including body and mind, will then be resting in Quietude, in your true nature.

That’s why I think these two questions are asked and answered together: Each leads to the other: by restraining our senses we are more easily able to achieve a state of calm, quiet, some level of peace of mind – in other words, Quietude.

Bright Lights on the Dunefields

Namaste and Welcome friends.

A poem for your reading pleasure. Written on site today in response to an experience while out walking on the dunes next to the hermitage.

I’m including a photo I made a few weeks ago of the exact place where the poem was written,

And many loving thanks to my partner hermit for the sketch made in the same area today (synchronistically it was made unknown to me and vica versa)

Please enjoy.

Love from Paul the Hermit

BRIGHT LIGHTS IN THE DUNEFIELDS


Today. On the Ocean Track.
Daily hiking across the top of the dunefields.
Not so sure-footed,
I trudge heavy-footed.

As I pass by, there are bright lights in the dunefields.
I pause in my passing as my eyes are drawn
(or is it my heart?)
to the bright lights in the dunefields.

I feast my senses upon
the bright lights in the dunefields.
They bless me, these bright lights.
They sing to me; they speak to me.

In my silence, I hear them.
But I hear not voices.
I see them.
But I see not colours, shapes or forms.

What I see, I see.
I see me, I see you.
They see me,
the bright lights in the dunefields.

They see you; can you see them?
These bright lights in the dunefields.

We are all bright lights in the dunefields.

Details in the Dunefields

On a Pilgrim’s Way

Today I went on a pilgrimage.Not that I don’t undertake all kinds of little pilgrimages all the time. And even more, it’s not as if my whole life – just like yours and everyone else’s – isn’t one ongoing and continuing pilgrimage.

All true; but this one, today, was embarked upon in what might be called, a classic manner: on foot, to a place of sacred significance, and in a spirit of contemplation of the nature of the journey as well on that which is being pilgrimed too. (I am positive there is no such word!)

In this case, today’s pilgrimage, that place was a church about two and a half kilometres from the  hermitage. It’s a place I have visited several time, but today was the first time I set out as a pilgrim and walked in the way and spirit of the pilgrim.

Our Lady of the Rosary is a Catholic church dedicated to the Mother of Jesus in her role as patron of the Holy Rosary, a Catholic way of prayer that has evolved over time and is a key part of the lives of many Catholic people.

Just to the right, just inside the door there is a plain brick wall in which there is a small niche. The niche holds an almost life-size statue of Mary. She stands, hands folded over her chest on which sits the Dove of Peace.

You can see from the photo that the church itself is a lovely, quiet, serene place full of good vibes and nice peaceful energies. The object, however, of my pilgrimage was not the church in itself, but stood just inside the side door accessed through an equally peaceful, fountain centred garden.

I have come to offer her – this form or manifestation of the Divine Mother – the prayer I wrote to her which I hope you saw when I posted it on this blog recently.

I had decided that my pilgrimage vow would be fulfilled once I had knelt at her feet and offered her the words of my heart in prayer.

My reverence for the Divine Mother is well known, and especially in her form as Mary the Mother of Jesus. Or Our Lady as we called her as good little Catholic children way back in the long ago. And I know I have said often that the entirety of the material and non-material cosmos is a manifestation of the Divine.

So, why then a special trip on foot, that I’m labeling a pilgrimage to a specific site, so I can kneel at the feet of a statue that I know perfectly well is made of stone or plaster and is simply a symbol of one aspect of the Divine?

Actually, the question has answered itself. The pilgrimage and my associated actions worded in that question tell us the why.

It is about acknowledging at a heart level and in my own way, that that symbol, that form, is actually representing a particular aspect of the Divine that I revere.

Besides, I’m not the first person who’s knelt at that spot, at Mary’s feet. I don’t know the age of the church, nor do I know the history of that particular statue, but I think we can say for certain that many hundreds, if not thousands of other people have been there where I was and spoken words from their hearts.

Being honest and true now, what I can say is that, as I said to my partner hermit: ‘I feel like i’ve been on a pilgrimage’.

And I do. I’ve walked – praying and chanting – to a sacred place where I have prayed at the feet of the Divine in the form of a likeness of Mary. I feel blessed that I actually got to offer the prayer I wrote to the Divine Mother.

Somehow I feel a link was established. A heart (mine) opened ever so slightly. I acknowledged the Divine, and I sense that I might just be – ever so slightly again! – topped up with a bit of the Grace that is in reality our true state.

Mary in the Garden (enhanced by a fellow Hermit Pilgrim. 
Thank you)

So, this is the story of my pilgrimage. I was absolutely exhausted when I arrived back at the hermitage. Most likely that was due to the heat, the traffic, and the noise encountered on the way I trod.

But, now I’ve shared this little tale with you, I’m not tired. Anyway, the Way is not always easy, and we are all very well aware of that aren’t we?

Namaste friends. The Divine in me salutes the Divine in you.

It’s a walk to take,

a pilgrimage to make.

Sometime soon.

Said by me long ago, I don’t know when or where. It was one of those ‘You’re a poet and don’t know it’ moments.

Peace!

The Q&A in the Scripture Part 1

Welcome to the first in a short – and occasional – series centred on a text containing a kind of Q & A session between Krishna (God) and Uddhava (his cousin).

Thirty six questions in all, with which Uddhava asks Krishna how he can live a good and honest life, dedicated to doing right and living the truth.

If you haven’t already, it would be really helpful if you read the Introduction post here, before going much further; just so you have a better handle on the context, the background etc. It will just help to set the scene a little more.

Now that’s been said, let’s get on and into it. The very first question Uddhava puts to Krishna is actually two questions in one.

What is quietude and self-control

Good questions, the both of them, given the circumstances Uddhava finds himself in. His hometown (it’s Krishna’s too) is about to descend into a nasty civil war and is most likely a chaotic, noisy, overwhelming and frightening environment to be stuck in.

Uddhava, like the rest of us just wants a peaceful life, and as to the second question, well he’s bound to be asking himself the same question we’d ask: Why can’t these people just control themselves before it’s too late? Not to mention the onslaught of emotional and mental anguish he’d be suffering himself.

Anyway, Uddhava is about to leave town following his cousin’s advice, and would like to find out how he can go on to live a good, righteous and honest life, while he’s in exile from his home.

Krishna chooses (sensibly I’d say: they’re both big questions) to answer one question at a time and he begins by explaining what is quietude:

Quietude is fixing the mind on me.

Krishna is not saying here: ‘Look, once I’m gone [I think I’ve mentioned that he’s leaving too, going back to Heaven or wherever he lives on a permanent basis] try to remember your dear old cuz in the odd quiet moment now and again will you?’

What I think he is actually saying is: ‘If you fix your mind on me, then that’s quietude’. We could call it silence as well. He’s not saying ‘I am in the silence’, nor is he saying ‘Through silence (or quietude) you will come closer to me’. No, what he says is ‘Quietude is what I am’.

So, what about those of us not in a first names relationship with Krishna? Well, think of Krishna as being a name and form of Universal Consciousness. Yes, the same Universal Consciousness  that is all created and non-created things; the sun, Earth herself, trees, the oceans, all living and non-living beings in the Universe, in all universes if there are more than one.

There are a whole list of synonyms for quietude: equanimity, calmness, peace of mind, rest, serenity, dispassion. Just to name a few.

These further definitions are really quite helpful. What I mean to say is that we rarely if ever associate that calmness, equanimity, peace, and the rest, with actually being the Universal Consciousness, that is also all of us and everything else that is. Again, think of Consciousness as the Divine, God, or by any other name and form, you attribute to the natural order and flow of the Universe.

Forgive the repetition : Quietude, calmness, peace of mind, are not where you will find God or consciousness, or whatever. They are all consciousness.

The beach is also dog friendly

Have I mentioned that the current hermitage is a cottage on the side of a large sand dune, on the other side of which is a stunning stretch of Pacific Coast beach. Sitting on the top of the dune and looking out over the beach and ocean it is easy to think of all that’s seen as divine.

It is most definitely a peace of mind, calm and quiet inducing experience to sit there. Certainly it is quietude itself with the only sounds being the song of the universe in the form of the waves and wind.

A question I asked myself, and I now pose to you: If what we’ve been calling Universal Consciousness is actually all that is, then why not a state of mind like quietude, calmness, balance, and the rest? Like everything else perhaps these states are simply elements of that consciousness or Absolute Reality, or oneness, or what some call God, the Divine, or … ?

In any case, I have a feeling that’s what Krishna was getting at with his answer, and what Uddhava somehow intuited with his question.

Thank you for joining me on this little pilgrimage. in the next post in this series (it could appear anytime, so stay tuned!) we will discuss Krishna’s answer to Uddhava’s second question: What is self-control?

Peace

Un hommage à tous les ailés

Sharing a Poem with its Photo

Namaste friends, greetings and welcome

Today, a poem and a photo for  you.  I made the photo just over a year ago, and was very fond of it from the start. Then when I put into an editing app, it evolved to what you see today.

As well as that, as I ‘worked on’ the image, the little poem, (a kind of freestyle Haiku I think it could be called … sort of!) just emerged and I had to hurry to write it down.

Last night I was going through some poems of mine, and came across this one again. Not so much that I’d forgotten about it, more that I hadn’t thought of it since way back then.

So, I went on a search for the photo (also not forgotten, just buried deep in the hard drive!), so I could share it and the poem here with you on this blog. First the photograph:

Golden Light Reflections on the House of God

And now for the little poetic treat.

Please enjoy and may Surya illumine your day.

As Gaia Turns

Surya illumines

with his fiercely gentle life-giving light.

Gothic panes receive and reflect

golden impressions

                  as Gaia turns.

As Promised: A Prayer of Praise and Gratitude to Trees

At one point in my last post on Bhakti (if you missed it you can find it here) I mentioned that I hoped to soon publish a recently written prayer titled A Prayer of Praise and Gratitude to Trees.

Even as I typed those words in that previous post, I thought: ‘soon’? Why the delay? What’s wrong with now? So, without any further delay, here is our next post and in it I’m very glad to be sharing that prayer with you.

As my comment in that previous post explained, this prayer (and others too) is one more little step in my ongoing effort to cultivate a mood or feeling, and a practice, of Bhakti or loving devotion to the Divine.

If you’ve read that last post you will recall that I stressed my deeply held and heartfelt conviction that the Divine is everything. As I may have actually said: there is only the Divine; one, whole, partless and indivisible. Now, to knowingly repeat myself: The Divine is one without a second; that’s all there is.

This prayer to trees is an attempt to acknowledge that oneness of which each and every tree – just like you and me and all other beings – is a manifestation, each with its own unique name and form.

This prayer, though composed by this particular name and form, is in fact just one more expression of that oneness we all share. As such it is as equally yours as it is mine. As I said earlier, I am glad we are sharing this now.

A Prayer of Praise & Gratitude to Trees

Dear Aranyani

With this prayer we greet you. We offer you our praise, and our gratitude.

When we come into your presence, you remind us that in meeting and greeting you, we are in fact meeting and greeting God.

We bless you and we thank you for the shelter that you steadfastly provide to so many living beings. In so doing you support, protect, and nurture the continuance of life for all of us.

Your every exhalation is for so many other living beings the breath of life, of Prana – the life force itself.

You remind us as we witness your strength, your resilience, and your calm flowing with the winds of change that we too share that strength, resilience and the potential for calm flowing with those winds of change that are also constantly buffeting us.

Om Aranyani Namah

PS Who is Aranyani? She is a Hndu deity of the forests and all that dwell within the forests. Basically she is the Goddess of Trees and here is simply the name and form representing all trees.

Sacred Strings, Sacred Tree

Follow the Way of Love

Bhakti  – intense devotion – leads to prayerful surrender which clears the mind of thoughts and concerns. Then, meditation is made possible.

            Swami Tadatmananda

A recent favourite quote from my teacher, that is helping me a lot on my own spiritual journey. Wikipedia also describes Bhakti in terms of intense devotion, adding words such as faith, love, homage, worship.

The wonderful Wikipedia also tells us that Bhakti is a term common in Indian religions, which may refer to loving devotion towards a personal god, a formless god or an enlightened being such as Buddha. They add:

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

Then what of one (AKA me) who at least aspires to see all things – all living and non-living things, all of ‘creation’ – as the Divine? How does a ‘loving devotion’ towards God work when one is striving to fully realise that there is only the Divine?

In my heart I know that all there is is the Divine, or God. Or put another way: it’s not so much that the Divine is in everything, or that everything is divine; the sense I have and aspire to realize completely, is that everything is the Divine. One without a second, the teachers say.

(Just a quick disclaimer: my heart may be telling me that there is only the Divine, but the rest of me still has a lot of catching up to do)

So, how does it work? Well writing it down in words seems to make it sound very simple: if everything is the Divine, is God, then it’s simple logic to assume that devotion to the Divine means having loving devotion towards all and everything; for all of existence, for everything that is. For all of creation as some say.

Simple to say, yes. Not so easy to easy to actually attain such a state. Of course the first thing to say is that it isn’t a state to attain. I am a part (not quite the right word) of that creation, that divinity, and as there is only one without a second, then logic again tells us that I am that creation – just like you and everyone and everything else that exists.

As such, it would seem to be an easy matter of me simply loving myself which automatically includes everyone and everything else in the Universe in that love (note to self: make this little paragraph my new mantra).

Here is where that ‘thoughts and concerns’ thing comes in. We all know how our minds like to interfere and get involved with every little thing. The mind tries to convince us of our separation from other people and the rest of life too, while its ally the ego runs wild convincing us of the urgency of status, of possessing things, of competing (also status isn’t it?), acquiring more stuff and worldly knowledge and power.

The solution? The means to realize one’s love for all? Prayerful surrender – which our quote tells us is acquired through the practice of Bhakti or loving devotion.

But hold on: Isn’t the realisation of our love the very thing we want to achieve? So, we are to use a practice involving love to realize our love?

Ah yes: the means is the end. Now that’s a nice little insight don’t you think? But, still, Bhakti or loving devotion isn’t at all easy, even if you’re talking about a personal God or deity or the Divine; how much harder it is (speaking only for me here mind you) to suddenly love everyone and everything, to suddenly recognise everyone and everything as the Divine. Including, mind you, things and people I don’t like or have a distaste for or aversion towards.

So what I try to do is be open and receptive to things, ideas, concepts, other living beings, that resonate within me as representing the Divine. Then I make those things the objects of my devotion which means my prayers are prayed with a mood of love. Good vibes you see. They spread out like (my partner hermit says) ripples in a pond or even waves in the ocean. No need to think of who or what I don’t like; they’ll be affected by those ripples too.

You’ve read my prayer to the Divine Mother – the embodiment of the Divine qualities of love, nurture, compassion. And soon I hope to post my Prayer of praise and gratitude to Trees. In that prayer I express my love, praise, respect for, and gratitude to, trees.

So many people – even the non-spiritual – view trees as symbols of creation in action, strength, resilience, even compassion and shelter. In other words, the Divine.

To surrender my heart to such representatives of the Divine is my continual effort and prayer. I pray to fully surrender to the natural order and smooth running of the universe, or the Divine.

And that surrender will come through my continuing and growing loving devotion.

Now, the ‘meditation is made possible’ bit? Well we all know what meditation means don’t we? Pretty much as many meanings as there are people meditating (and many who are not!). In this context I think the meditation that’s made possible is more a kind of contemplation leading to a clear comprehension or understanding.

Contemplation of the entirety of the Universe (which includes you obviously) as one whole, undivided expression of love or the Divine.

Comprehension is understanding, in a final, complete truly ‘knowing’ way, that the things of the world – the status, the possessions, wealth, sensual pleasures – are not and never can be the means to attaining perfect peace and happiness.
Of course, the ‘things of the world’ continue to be important. After all, we are (at least our bodies and minds) things of the world too aren’t we?

But that contemplation of the totality as the Divine will help us to reduce our suffering by helping us to reduce our excessive desires or cravings for those worldly things.

I think I mentioned that Bhakti, loving devotion, can be difficult. It’s true it is often hard to focus on love and devotion, to always have your heart available and open. But, you know, it can actually be a very satisfying and enjoyable feeling, and I can say a really nice experience.

So, I hope some of the ripples (and some of the waves too), some of those good good vibes are making themselves known to you.

Thank you and my love to you