Tag Archives: depression

No Internet Reception? Is It a coincidence?

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My last post spoke of the need for spiritual seekers to have association with devotees, fellow travellers on a spiritual path. I extolled the virtues for hermits living more secluded lives with the little physical contact, such as me, of accessing the Internet to find stories of past and present spiritual seekers, as a means to satisfy that need for association.

Watching videos, reading books and articles online, exploring websites managed by individuals or groups, all present opportunities for association.

I pointed out how all these activities are blessing in that they help instill a sense of connection and belonging, how they confirm the reality that I am not alone. Encouraging and inspiring, I said it was – and it is.

However, I did neglect to point out that there are hazards, pitfalls, slippery slopes, triggers for depression, anger, sadness. For me, spending time ‘online’ should come with an ‘enter at your own risk’ warning.

This is especially the case when spending time on the video watching apps, where you can watch unlimited videos on an unlimited range of topics.

Call it temptation; call it the magnetism of old attachments and conditioning; call it what I like: the reality is that, after too much time watching videos online, I will often start to drift, just for a ‘quick look’, just a short spell of lookin but ‘just a bit’. Not forgetting the sad resolve to only look at ‘stuff that’s good for me’.

A sad resolve I said because so often what I ‘have a quick look’ at is news, movie clips; anything that tugs at my old ways and habits, anything that pushes old buttons and triggers my old depressive and decidedly non-peaceful, melancholic self.

It doesn’t happen that often, not anymore. But when it does, I have a sense of sinking back into the mire of worldliness as it’s called. I feel the falling into the aforementioned pit. Even stuff I have strong aversions to, such as certain political leaders, reach out to grab me when such moments arise.

Anyway, such a slide down the slippery slope has been threatening the last couple of days. So, tonight I decided: no videos or other web stuff. Time for a break; time to clear my mind and relax.

The only online thing I thought I’d do is post some photos on a photo sharing site I belong to. Watching videos and other web stuff, causes me to neglect important things, like sharing my photos, sitting quietly, reading; all the good things. Time to settle. Time to catch up.

So, all set up to begin sharing, all that was missing was an Internet connection. I tried rebooting devices; all the usual remedies. Still no connection. Twenty minutes later I finally got it: the Universe wasn’t going to allow me anywhere  near the Internet.

Interesting timing, I thought. I decide no Internet (sort of) but the Universe has other ideas: Absolutely no Internet.

Of course Internet dropping out is hardly a unique event. It’s not as if it’s even a rare or occasional occurance.
Still, the last few days, the connection has been excellent. Then, tonight, nothing. Could be a coincidence? But then I don’t believe in coincidences.

Whatever. Now I am happily writing a blog post to share with you, then I’m going to actually make some pictures – been neglecting that too. Then, after that I’m going to get back to a partly read but excellent book I’ve lost touch with. Time to reengage.

Meanwhile, I will choose to think that the Universe is unfolding exactly as it’s meant to.

No Internet? No problem.

To Sleep or To Not Sleep?

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One of the stories I’ve been telling myself for pretty much as long as I can remember, is that my life has been impacted, influenced, directed, controlled, by depression and fatigue. As with all stories, there are elements of fact, fiction, fantasy, real life experience, truth, and the not so true in this one.

Anyway, with the fatigue factor in mind, I’ve recently made an intention (I call it a sankalpa) to lie down for an hour or two every day whether I ‘felt like’ it or not. The idea was that a daily break would be like a catch up, a preemptive measure if you like. Even if I didn’t sleep, it’d be an opportunity to just be still, listen to nice music, relax for a while, a quiet time.

Today, just after breakfast, and getting deeply into my spiritual practice, I suddenly experienced an epiphany. Or to be a little less grandiose about it, I had a little insight which has lead to me to make these notes.

Despite that feeling of exhaustion, and despite the previously mentioned intention to rest more, I resisted going to lie down, thinking I can lie down later in the day.

Why? Surely a person who thinks their life has been ruled by depression and fatigue, would welcome any pretext to lie down, to sleep, to shut the world out for a while.

And, then comes the insight: All of a sudden I realised why I was resisting taking rest: Well, the fact was that I didn’t want to sleep because, well, I’d be asleep. I’d not be able to continue my practice, read, write, to ‘live now’. Putting it another way, I simply wanted to keep on keeping on doing exactly what I was doing.

But wait, I hear you asking: how can you fully live now when you’re so tired?

Excellent question; the exact question in fact that I asked myself. The answer I got from Self was interesting: fatigue as a symptom and outcome of depression is one thing; fatigue resulting from living a full life with enthusiasm (sort of sometimes) is quite a different thing.

Actually, now I think about it, there’s another little insight making its way to the surface of this over-active, over-full mind: The very fact that I thought I had living to do now is a very clear signal that, for at least the moment, depression is not dragging me around, or down, or anywhere else.

Just that concept of wanting to be awake to live this moment? Well, isn’t that a joyful thing? But what about being so tired? Should I go and lie down now anyway?

Ummm… Actually I don’t know; I can’t say really. So, I think I will just keep on doing what I was doing when I began these notes.

Which was chanting the names of God.

Hare Krishna Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna Hare Hare
Hare Rama Hare Rama Rama Rama Hare Hare.

Now that should wake me up for a bit.

PS It’s a bit later in the day, and I’m typing up the notes as a post for the blog. I did in fact carry on chanting for a while, I’ve had lunch, and I think after I post this, I might go for a walk around the neighbourhood. And no, I haven’t had to lie down yet.

Maybe later!

A Little Bit of Self Knowledge Hard Won

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You know, for all my prayers; for all my mental discipline – efforts at mental discipline – for all my meditations, chanting, and other practices, I still just talk way too much for my liking, and often it feels like it’s only talking for the sake of talking.

I still just open my mouth and let come out any old thing that keeps the noise going. Oh, it’s worse than that: sometimes when I talk it’s rambling and waffling that I cleverly (or not so cleverly) disguise as intelligent, rational, and based logically on knowledge that I either have or haven’t got. Either way, I somehow seem to think I’m offering words of well thought out wisdom.

Whereas, as I said, the noise I make is so often rambling, contradictory , ill-informed, thoughtless waffle.

Enough! Blimey, that’s enough. Talk about opening a post on a calm, relaxed, optimistic, and compassionate note.

Here’s the thing: I want to devote my entire life to devotion and prayer. And that requires at least some silence. Yet, instead, I merely talk about the joys of silence, about the joys of full-on devotion to the divine, and as well I occupy so much time and energy to just voicing random thoughts that come and go, go and come, without rhyme, without reason.

Okay, here’s the second thing: I long with my deepest longing to be silent – to not simply stop talking, though that would be an excellent beginning. No, I want to be quiet; I want my vocal chords to have a break and let my true voice speak through my life, through this blog, my photographs and in whatever way I am lead.

So, what to do? Well, here’s the third thing, thing number three: all I need to do in order to both stop talking so much and be silent is to just sit. Sit and do nothing. There is no thing that I can do that will magically turn me into an oasis of silence and peaceful calm.

Sometime in the dim distant path I read someone paraphrasing The fouth Noble Truth in two words, Just sit. Buddha did indeed know what he was talking about. And I do get the irony: when I talk, I need to say something that helps, not just make noise and try to avoid silence.

Just sit

All I Had to Do Was Dream

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Last night I had a dream. Of course there’s nothing unusual in that: I dream every night, every time I sleep (and sometimes when I’m supposed to be meditating as well). Actually I’m no different than probably every other living being in the Universe: I dream when I sleep.

No. The particular dream isn’t my point here (though we’ll be discussing it soon enough). What makes it worth noting is the fact that last evening, before going to bed, I watched a documentary on Carl Jung and The Red Book.

Jung compiled The Red Book at a time of personal crisis and distress. Using dream analysis, his own imagination, and intense self reflection, he used both paintings and text to express what he saw and understood from these practices. Hauntingly beautiful, other worldly pictures depicting dream images, archetypes, both personal and universal, helped him delve deeply into his unconscious mind and the collective unconscious.

I gave up trying to interpret dreams a long long time ago. Don’t ask me why: I probably couldn’t say. Most likely something to do with a kind of wariness about going too much into where the mind wants to take me, and my sense that the “dream” doesn’t stop when we wake up.

Still, watching this doco prompted a lot of discussion with my partner hermit, and a lot of thinking on my part. The mind is not our enemy, though sometimes I feel that it is. Well, it can be the enemy if we allow it, but equally we can allow the mind to be our friend. After all, what activity of any kind is possible in the world without mind?

So, with that in mind (get it? in mind?) I will share with you that above mentioned dream from last night.

In the dream I was in a small kitchen, making tea. I’d put on a kettle to boil. A very large, heavy kettle, probably three or four times the size of a normal one. I was in the process of looking for a mug or cup, and just as I picked one up that I liked the look of, a crowd of five or six people came bustling noisily into this very crowded space.

‘I’ve just put the kettle on,’ I called loudly over the din. As it happened I’d filled the kettle almost to overflowing, much more than I needed for myself alone.

‘There’s plenty of boiling water to go round.’

Then I busied myself looking for something (a tea bag perhaps?), and when I finally turned back to the kettle to make my tea, I saw it was gone. I was very unhappy with this disappearance: After all, I was the one who had filled the kettle and put it on to boil. Then without a thought or a, what’s the expression? without a by your leave, it’s all gone, nothing left for me. Not only no more water, but nothing to boil more with.

I looked everywhere, even outside the kitchen. Outside was a camp ground and apartment complex, where I (and presumably all the other people) was staying.

Anyway, that’s it. All I remember at least. So, the meaning? Was I merely processing trivial facts and events from my day in this strange fashion? Or was I in touch with the deepest part of my psyche and with the collective unconscious? Possibly a bit of both.

It’s not a big job to make a guess about the meaning. I had a plentiful supply of water (or whatever), and without thought, put the needs of others before my own. But then, I actively resented what had been ‘taken from me’, even though I had freely given it in the first place.

So, the message I take from this dream? Just as I’ve been studying lately, the fruits of my actions are not my responsibility. I have no say over what, if anything, will happen as a result of actions I take. All I am responsible for is the taking of the action itself, the manner in which I undertake it, and the attitude with which I approach the actions I take. That’s it. That’s all I can do. The rest is up to the laws of the universe. Call it Karma, or Natural Law.

Another idea just occured to me: When I take action (like boiling the kettle) and then serve others, I am serving Self, all life, everyone and everything. And obviously that includes me. I’m not suggesting I should have made sure ahead of time that I’d ‘reserved’ enough water for myself, but at the same time …

I might keep this dream analysis thing as practice to practise occasionally, when the inclination or inspiration is there. No more blocking memories of dreams, no more stubborn refusal to reflect on dreams. After all, I spend a lot of time contemplating and reflecting on what I do in my waking life, how is it any different just because it happens while I’m asleep?

A Small Gift

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An Encircling Embrace (Unknown and brilliant street artists)

From the Hermit’s Cave to You, wherever you are

Suffer the Little Children

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Suffer the Little Children

A sculpture of a young child, on a busy street corner in the heart of downtown Sydney. I like many thousands of others, have passed it by many times only giving passing thought to the origins, meaning, or significance of the statue itself.

Until a couple of days ago that is.

As a subject for contemplation and for a photograph, it is a powerful image: striking in its presence. Once one actually stops to look and reflect that is.

After several minutes of standing with the statue and asking myself who is it? What does it mean? (there is no plaque or sign to steer the way), I made this photo and I moved on.

Only later, at home, did I notice the little plant growing through the pavement in the corner. And zooming in on the plant I saw the little moth sitting on a leaf.

I decided to research online, see if I could learn more about this site. The sculpture is called Youngster and was created by artist Caroline Rothwell. It seeks to highlight the plight of refugees, in particular children.

There isn’t much online, but you can read a media article which gives some more insight into the sculpture here.

That article focuses mainly on the sudden appearance of a plaque at the site. Presumebly placed by a citizen with strong feelings on the subject, the plaque wasn’t ‘official’, so was later removed.

Actually, the text on this plaque pretty much sums up my own strongly held and often expressed feelings. Though, these days as a contemplative monk and hermit, I try hard to not have opinions, or make judgements on the way in which things in the material world play out.

But, obviously I am still human, and this is only one of so many issues that cause me distress, sadness, even rage. Actually, rage is a big one. But then, how could anyone of goodwill not be outraged? It is the very reason I am struggling hard to get this post down, to somehow make it all clear.

You see, at the same time as being so affected on the human heart level, I am very aware at the same time that it is the conditioning of material nature that leads to the very obvious fact that life is suffering.

Eating, sleeping, mating, and defending. Every single activity of every living being is motivated by one or more of these activities or a desire for their fullfillment. They are the basic drives that rule all life.

So what to do? As I’ve said (probably many times) I am not a warrior – I used to be but not now. However I am just like every other life form motivated by conditioning, either from my experiences in this life, or by that conditioning inherent in all material nature.

To a great extent I have retreated from the world. Not in order to escape or so I can ignore the suffering. I haven’t abandoned the world.

In fact the exact opposite is true: I have withdrawn, become a hermit monk, precisely so that I might be able to dedicate every ounce of my energy, my heart, my love, to prayer; to creating and maintaining a quiet and contemplative silence.

My prayer is not of the asking or begging kind, beseeching some invisible ‘god’ to give me something. Instead, I attempt to be still (never ever easy); to free and open my mind so that I may be more receptive to the Divine, to the will of the Universe; and to  become more mindful in every activity and moment.

In this way I am aspiring to realize fully my oneness with all life.  All life. I want to become fully awake to the fact that everything is Self. That there is nothing else.

And of course Self includes this child and all she symbolizes; it includes that little green plant growing through the pavement in the corner; and it includes the little moth perched on one of its leaves.

As well, my prayer, my aspiration for full self realization and union includes all those who are warriors, those whose activism and engagement with the material or physical world is every day alleviating and attempting to alleviate suffering and its causes in whatever form it takes on this planet we all share.

I am extremely flawed: I’d like to tell you I am always full of love and light, but there is much of darkness in me still to be rid of. So, all I’ve shared with you till now are still only aspirations and I have far to go. Nobody can say if I will ever reach that full realisation. In the meantime I intend to keep doing what I can to participate in the work of change.

Peace and love

Let the Music Play

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When thinking about a name for this photo I was really tempted to somehow reference the song American Pie by Don McLean. The phrase from the lyrics ‘the day the music died’, kept coming to mind – even as I made the photo of the scene.

By the way, ‘the day the music died’ refers to the plane crash in 1959 in which the up and coming Buddy Holly, and the more well known Ritchie Valens and The Big Bopper were killed.

And there was that brilliant MASH scene coming to mind. In the scene there is concert pianist who has lost the use of his right hand in battle. One of the doctors attempts to encourage him to not allow the music to die, to find other ways than actually playing piano to share the music.

Both connections seemed obvious: a very old dead piano decaying, returning to old forms of itself. But then it struck me: it was the instrument that had died and was changing forms. All material things change, die, becoming something else.

The music on the other hand, hasn’t died. It not only survived that plane crash and the transition of those three singers, it has thrived. Their music lives on. Music can’t die. Why?

Because music is life. Vibrations, harmony, and sound itself, are the foundations, the roots of ‘life the universe and everything’ (to borrow an old expression). As such, music is not a tangible, physical thing and it needs an instrument to make it manifest in the world; music merely passes through the instrument and emerges into being.

I liked that MASH episode. The doctor (stuffy Major Winchester) says to his patient, the wounded pianist, that as a skilled surgeon he has hands that ‘can make a scalpel sing’. But really, what he’s wanted all his life to is to experience music the way the pianist has.

He says he can play the notes, but he doesn’t have the gift that would allow the music (as in Chopin, Brahms and the rest) to flow through him. He tells his patient, who is depressed and unwilling or unable to consider that the music may not have died:

The gift does not live in your hands. The true gift is in your head, and in your heart, and in your soul.

Major Charles Winchester

Hearing that line again reminded me of Om. There are a number of religious traditions that consider OM (sometimes spelt as AUM) to be the primordial sound, the very source of creation. The word itself, when written is considered sacred.

Then there is the verse from the Christian Bible that makes the exact same assertion:

In the beginning was the word and the word was with God and the word was God.

John 1:1-3

Well, music needs an instrument – whether in the form of a voice, body, mind, or in an object made of wood, strings, brass, or something else – in order to manifest into the material world and to be experienced by us.

Just think: the piano in my photo in the front garden of a house in a mining town has most likely allowed many generations to experience music. Accompanied them in celebrations and greivings; helped so many through good times and bad times; witnessed people laugh, cry, and even dance;

Of course, Major Winchester’s gifts as a surgeon are that he is a instrument for the vibration, the music of the universe, to make itself manifest in another way.

And what he is essentially saying to our wounded pianist is: ‘Look you can shut it off forever (his words) or you can continue making your gifts – your Self – available as an instrument that allows that music to come into the world for everyone to share’.

Well dear friends, I have pledged to carry on using my gifts and be available in just that way that allows the music to come through me in whatever form and shape it takes.

By gifts I mean those things that have been granted to every living being: the ability to create harmony; the ability to make and spread good vibrations; and the capacity to appreciate and celebrate beauty.

And when you think of it there is no way to put a limit on the number of ways that the music that is Life might be channelled through each and every one of us

A good place to pick up some good vibes, get into harmony with yourself and appreciate beauty all at the same time

In my own ways I try to make harmony in and around myself as much as I’m able. I am always attempting to cultivate behaviours and attitudes that help to create and spread good vibes. And I constantly seek to appreciate beauty, even when the world seems to be only ugliness.

Of course, as I say I am only the instrument. The music -the beauty, good vibes, and harmony – exist with or without me. But music in whatever shape and form it takes needs an instrument if it is to come into our material world and be there for all of us to share.

So, this is my prayer: that at least every once in a while, every now and then, I can actually be that instrument .

PS Just a little postscript. When passing that particular garden (the piano garden I call it now) I was drawn to this:

Eagle-eyed Garden Guardian

Just as I photographed this lovely creature, I heard my partner’s voice:

‘Did you see the piano?’

Now being in what you’ve heard me call the Zen Zone I was fully focused on and absorbed in, our winged friend. Coming back from wherever I’d been, I did in fact notice the piano.

You see, you just never never know where the music is going to come from. I might not have seen the piano with my own eagle eye but lucky for me music had a ready and willing instrument standing by to remind me of which way to look.

Quiet and Free (A Haiku of Sorts)

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Much speech leads to exhaustion;
guard your inner being.
And keep it free.
A bit of blue sky coming.

Homage to The Cockroach Man. With thanks and affection

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Notes from the Hermit’s Cave is what this blog is called. I promised to publish musings or notes of all sorts: your regular text blog; photos or other pictures; poems; and other assorted bit and pieces.

Well, I’ve rediscovered a poem that I think would be great to share with you.

Looking through some posts saved from old blogs no longer active, I came across theaforementioned poem. It’s about a guy I met in a cafe in India back in 2006. This person kept me and a crowd of other travellers spellbound for a couple of hours one monsoon afternoon. Not to mention the many conversations focused on him that followed in the next few days and the several pages in my Journal recounting the whole experience.

Anyway, as soon as I saw this poem again, I thought I just have to post it here. That trip was a big step for me in my own healing and spiritual journey. And meeting this guy has played a part in all that.

So, please join me in making this small offering of thanks to that guy, whose actual name I never learned, and who forever will be known to several very fortunate travellers as the Cockroach Man

THE COCKROACH MAN

This is what he said.
He’d lived many years in India,
and, in that time he’d done many things.
Even, he said, for a while he’d trained with a yogi, his guru.
This is what he said.

Yogic training is not easy, he said,
In fact, he said, one aspect made him sick
for a year.
This is what he said.

His Guru put beings in his head.
Beings like parasites he said.
Yes, yogic training, it made him sick.
This is what he said.

Parasites implanted in the head? A part of yogic training?
No. I don’t think so.
Actually, inserted was the word he used.
‘inserted beings in my head.’
This is what he said.

All gone now, save one, he said.
Only one remains—it’s like a cockroach.
And it’s still in him making him sick.
This is what he said.

At night, he said, there is sometimes relief.
The cockroach leaves and floats just below the ceiling.
Well, its astral body leaves his head and floats above his bed.
This is what he said

‘You’re a healer. You understand,’
is what he says as he turns to me.
Umm, no. Actually I don’t.
But this is not what I said.

Where is he now, the Cockroach Man?
‘It’s winter soon. I’m gonna give blankets
to the villagers.’
This is what he said.

He’s known suffering, he said.
And you could tell he was tired
from fighting the cockroach.
‘I’ll feed the poor.’
This is what he said.

With These Words … Part 4

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Welcome back to my little mini-series With These Words … , my reflections on how well my way of living measures up to the vows taken by many spiritual seekers, either in a community setting, or as a spiritually oriented hermit, or an individual ‘monk in the world‘ (and monk here has no gender specific meaning. A monk is a monk). Do these concepts work as a kind of philosophy of life for me?

Funny I used the expression measure up just now: You see, we’re at Part 4 which is Accountability. So, measuring up is the very thing we will be talking about right now! Oh, one thing: If you missed any of those earlier Parts to this series, you’ll find links in the PS at the bottom.

Accountability

It goes without saying that we are always accountable for the consequences of our actions, decisions, behaviours, and way of being in the world. Of course there is a deep mystical concept that it is only our material nature that carries out actions in the physical world and that the doer is actually the source of that material nature: God, Self, Brahman. Or you could say the Universe. As in I am a child of the Universe kind of thing.

But, you know, putting all that aside, we are actually living a physical life, and the truth is we are accountable for anything we do in this material world. And that means literally everything: thought, word, deed; the whole deal.

So, the question is not whether or not we are accountable: we just are. The real question is whether I myself acknowledge that accountability and act accordingly to change behaviours or whatever might be necessary.

To be honest, I truly feel that we all very often fail, sometimes even refuse, to even see the consequences of our actions, and therefore fail to make those necessary corrections or changes. Certainly you can put me high up on that list.

So, the big question: Do I feel ‘obligated to explain, justify and take responsibility for [our] actions and to answer to someone [for the consequences of those actions]? (Thanks Dictionary.com for the help here) That someone is very often yourself, or a partner, family member, work colleague, friend. You get it.

Personally, I would say definitely yes, sort of, sometimes. The problem comes up on those occasions when I fail to see, as I noted above. Now, again being very truthful about myself, I would say that most of the time I am aware of my actions, even when I’m not able to control them. But, still being truthful, I am often guilty of picking on the wrong stuff I do and end up blaming myself for innocent actions, and blissfully ignoring the other kind.

I am very big on taking responsibility once I’m aware of a not so good consequence or behaviour, or whatever. Of course like everyone else I do at times defend the indefensible. I’m particularly good with that sort of thing: it often takes me a long time to wake up. Not as long as it once did, but still.

In my attempts to live an authentic hermit life, I think naturally and, through my spiritual practice, meditation, study, and contemplation, not to mention self enquiry and heart level honesty, steadily making progress.

Like I said, being accountable is not the question. It’s about realising that I’m accountable and that I am thus responsible for taking whatever remedial action necessary. And it goes without saying I am also accountable for the consequences of those actions too.

Phew. That’s quite enough of this particular little episode of self enquiry. Okay. Just one more thought:

Remember my last post (I Think, Therefore I suffer. Sometimes) ? About how I was able to divert the ‘poor me’ thought train, to let the ‘I’m really and truly blessed’ express to roll on through? Well it occurred to me that this is a terrific example of accountability. Remember thoughts count as actions too.

I had the negative thoughts, which lead to the consequence of an onslaught of maudlin self-pity. and even in that sad state I realized that there could only be bad stuff come from that self-pity if left to fester – and it might not just be me who gets entangled: self-pity makes vibes, an atmosphere, and that affects everyone.

No, that was not going to happen, so other thoughts kicked in. In other words, I made changes: my thoughts of ‘woe is me’ transformed into ones of gratitude and acknowledgement of my true position.

Essentially I saw the consequences of my actions (or thoughts), realized at some level I was accountable to myself and others for those consequences (actual and potential), and I took action. As I said, this all was going on inside and happened in a flash really. Still, I am still witnessing the consequences of that little incident of being accountable for my actions and acting accordingly.

Enough I think I said? I realise that I have gone on and on and not given thought to the consequences to you, the suffering reader stuck with said verbosity. So, as a responsible hermit who has taken a vow to be a bit more silent at least sometimes, I will stop this post without further ado.

PS Just in case you’ve missed the previous posts in this series:
Part 1 The Introduction and overview
Part 2 Simplicity
Part 3 Purity