Put Me in My Place. Please

Reverence the place and learn from what you see


Coming across this note last night, I was stumped. I coudln’t think where it had come from, where I’d seen it; nothing at all came to mind. And an online search just now failed to turn up anything either. I mean I must have read it somewhere. Or is it possible it came from me?

Of course it’s all the same: there is only one source. At any rate, it’s an injunction one can relate to anywhere, any place. It’s surely about presence?

And about learning from all that is to be seen (heard, felt, intuited, known) in whatever place one is in now. I mean, the place I’m in now. I am here and it is now.

I’m reminded of the faith affirmation (is it a prayer?) that seems to have been written for this particular hermit pilgrim:

As a a hermit, I am a pilgrim dependent on a pure faith that I am exactly where God wold have me be now.

Sometimes I think that too much thinking about and angst over places other than the one I’m actually in right now, is a sure and certain way to resist and reject any reverencing of the place I’m in, not to mention what’s to be learned or gifted from the experience of being here.

And of course that angst, worry, wishful thinking, or whatever, comes with its own issues of distraction, and of a taking away of one’s Self from the present, the notion that here and now is the only time and place that exists.

A poem of mine I came across the other day while looking for something else says it all quite nicely. This poem is called Transcendental Injunctions, and it’s a rap on presence, about being here, and being now.

The central action describes how my senses can take me away from that here and now: I describe my habit of smelling my Bhagavad Gita (yes, as in putting my nose into the pages of the little book and inhaling the aroma of those pages) and how that takes me back to the shores of the River Ganges; another place, another time.

Anyway, allow me to share the final verse, which speaks of one such occasion:

Then, there is a voice:
I hear it with the ear of my heart:
There is no place to go.
What you seek is within.
There’s nothing to find:
God’s kingdom is within.

I suppose there is nothing left to say. I am here, and it is now

Peace to you from me

Walk In The Waters of Life

Since I launched this blog (a whole month and a bit ago already), I’ve had an idea for a post. A short, spontaneous, chatty but informative little piece on my favourite name and form of the Divine Feminine (often referred to as the Goddess): Saraswati.

Well, as the keenly observant among you will have noticed, no such post has appeared. Procrastination in overdrive you might say. Or perhaps it was that the Goddess just wasn’t keen on me doing the post about her?

You see, I did some research, made a ton of notes, and discovered all kinds of fascinating things and I just felt I wanted to share what I’d learned. Somehow, though, the idea didn’t go any further. I’ve thought about it from time to time, but still, nothing has come. Then, a couple of days ago, I came across my notes and reread what I’d discovered.

Now, here’s a key moment: as I reread those notes, I thought (paraphrasing here), ‘I really must post this. It’s all so fascinating and would interest a lot of people and even be helpful.’ Something like that anyway. Yet, still, it is not written.

So, despite my notes seemingly begging for my attention, I guess that maybe it’s not the time. Now my notes are safely tucked into a few nice little folders within a larger folder somewhere in the depths of my harddrive.

All that struggle; all that thinking and fretting over what was supposed to be a short, spontaneous couple of hundred words on a subject I love. Still, the episode has got me thinking about intuition and how it can disguise itself – with our help – as procrastination. And vice versa.

Yes, I know, obvious question: how can we ever know the difference? When are we inventing all kinds of reasons for putting something off, and when is it really intuition trying to guide us?

Well, it’s complicated. As creatures able to reason, we are always ready to come up with arguments for and against, to think endlessly and agonize over the smallest and most trivial details while ignoring the big stuff. Really, in my case that’s all there is to it: I just think too much.

Sticking to the Saraswati blog post episode (a catchy title don’t you think? Watch out for a post headed up ‘The Saraswati Blog Post Episode‘), I don’t recall why I didn’t just get right to writing it. It might have been any number of things: a perceived lack of time; a promise to self to ‘give it some more thought’; a resistance to the actual ‘labour’ required. Who knows?

Or, was it more that, while the idea was a good one, I just wasn’t feeling it? Maybe the timing just wasn’t right? The problem is that sometimes an intuition comes in a flash of knowing – with a capital K – that you can’t possibly miss.

Then, other times, it creeps up so slowly and quietly that it gets drowned out and ignored as our monkey mind takes over with its endless arguments for and against, pros and cons, advantages and disadvantages,

The lesson I was given here was this: What is going to get done, will get done; what is not going to get done, won’t. Sounds simple really, but so often we make it more complicated with our overthinking, our coming up with excuses. We procrastinate.

Then, at other times, we just dive in the deep end, flowing with the intuition. It may be right or it may be wrong, but it’s done. Actually, I am trying to realise that there is no right or wrong about a decision made: it just is as it is. Easy to type, hard to do.

Flowing. That’s a good word actually. Saraswati, along with many other characteristics, embodies flow. As in the flow of the river of life. She’s the Goddess of all things creative as well as any activity that helps one to discover the essence of self.

So, flash or gradual realisation; right or wrong; left or right, be the river: flow with what happens or doesn’t happen. Don’t fret about the twists and turns, the ebb and flow of tides, the rocks in the stream that force us to flow around or over, or to change direction completely. In 1946 the poet Jorge Luis Borges wrote an essay about time. In that essay, among other things he says:

Time is the substance I am made of. Time is a river which sweeps me along, but I am the river (emphasis is mine)

Jean Luis Borges A New Refutation of Time 1946

Reading that quote reminded me of a song that I’ve been humming on and off for a very very long time (hint: I saw the movie when it first came out).

The river flows, it flows to the sea.
Wherever that river goes, that’s where I want to be.
Flow river flow.

Peace from me to you.

PS: Thanks to my memory for giving me these lyrics from The Ballad of Easy Rider. Or was it actually Saraswati whispering in my ear?

There’s a tiger in the town. Is There Really?

Welcome friends to another post

In yesterday’s post  (which you can find here), I referred to a Chinese fable, and I said I’d share the story in its entirety with you. So, today, here it is. I came across the fable by chance (not that there is any such thing of course) and I have added a few of my own embellishments.

So please enjoy.

There was once a great sage, a wise wandering monk, who as he travelled from village to village would, by his simple presence and through conversations with the people he met, show people the Tao. Through his life and words he demonstrated to those he met how they could also follow The Way

One day as the sun was setting, the monk entered the outskirts of a rather large village, more a town of substance than a village. As was his custom, the great sage followed the road that would lead him to the centre of the town.

Before long, he was approached by a man dressed in the garb of a government official. The official bowed deeply to the monk and told him that his master, the town mayor, requested the visitor’s presence and would be greatly honoured if he would join his master for the evening meal at the mayor’s home.

Returning the bow, the sage readily accepted the summons and proceeded to follow the official to the mayor’s house where he was greeted by the mayor himself and his family.

After a sumptuous dinner the monk sat with the mayor sharing tea and conversing in a friendly manner. The sage posed a question to the mayor.

‘Tell me sir. Suppose a man came to your door and told you that there was a tiger running loose in the middle of the town. Would you believe him?’

The mayor, although surprised by ths unusual question, did not hesitate.

‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘If one man told me, I would not believe it.’

‘Well,’ the sage smiled as he began to speak again. ‘Suppose two men came to the door and told you there was a tiger loose in the middle of the town. Would you believe them?’

This time the mayor hesitated, giving himself time to think about his response.

‘No,’ he began after a moment’s thought. ‘If two men told me, I would not believe .’

‘Very well then,’ the sage said. ‘Let us suppose that three men came to your door and told you there was a tiger loose in the middle of the town. Would you believe them?’

This time the mayor had to really stop and think. After a couple of minutes he answered the sage.

‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘If three men told me there was a tiger in the middle of the town, then I would beleive them.’

‘Very interesting,’ the wise one replied gently. ‘Interesting because there still is no tiger in the middle of the town.’

Truth Is

Namaste friends. Welcome.

Fake news, propaganda, misinformation, disinformation, manipulative advertising. Such a tsunami of information threatening to swamp us, all of it claiming to be ‘facts’ or ‘true’, mean we are almost continually asking, what is true? Who can tell anymore? When we look at the world we live in today it is a rare thing when we are able to tell if something or someone is real or true.

For me there is only one solution: stop looking to the world as the source of any kind of answers to anything, and particularly when it comes to trying to sort out what is true and what isn’t.

The only place you will find the answer to the question ‘what is the truth of …?’ and know for certain that it is true, is within yourself. You are the only one who can decide what is true and what isn’t, what is right and what is wrong.

It doesn’t mean you ignore all information from external sources; it only means that you appeal to that inner part of yourself, the intellect and beyond, to help you reach your own truth sifted from all that information.

It’s a well trod path in philosophical circles: the debate around absolute versus relative truth(s) has been going on for a few thousand years already, and it’s unlikely to reach any kind of resolution anytime soon.

I’m not saying that a thing might be true for you and not true for someone else. At the same time I’m not saying that there is some kind of externally arbitrated single, absolute truth that is always true regardless of whether one agrees or not.

What I am saying is that, if you come to the truth of a thing, situation, person, whatever, from within yourself and it is accompanied by that inner ‘I just know this is right’ feeling one gets sometime, then putting it simply, it is truth. Period; fullstop; that’s all there is to it. End of story.

If someone tells me there is a tiger in the centre of town, how can I really know if there actually is a tiger in the centre of town? And if three (or three hundred) people tell me there is a tiger in the centre of town? Well even then, how can I really know for sure if there is a tiger? There might be, or there might not be.

Okay then, how do I find out? Putting it like that the answer seems obvious doesn’t it? I go and look for myself.

But you know even then, do my eyes deceive me? Do I know what a tiger looks like? You see, even if my physical eyes see what I’ve been led to believe is a tiger, I still need to use my intellect, or even my intuition, to assess its real identity, to figure out the truth for myself. I mean, for my Self.

Afterword:

The tiger example is from a Chinese fable from the Taoist tradition. I’ll put my slightly elaborated version in my next post, and once it’s there you can find it here.

Buddhism’s Three Refuges: They’re for Everyone

Greetings and Welcome

To become a Buddhist, , there are a number of things a person must commit to. One of these consists of a kind of three in one resolution that’s welcomed by any aspirant. In fact, some say that in order to be a Buddhist, one has to repeat The Triratna or The Three Jewels. Three refuges is the other name used.

I take refuge in the Buddha
I take refuge in the Dharma
I take refuge in the Sangha

The exact words used may vary, but The Three Jewels is common throughout the Buddhist world. And of course there will be many meanings ascribed to ‘take refuge’, but the one I like is the one that any of us might use in, say, a heavy downfall of rain. What do we usually do in when the rain starts falling? We look for shelter, we take refuge.

I don’t mean to suggest that becoming a Buddhist automatically means that one is seeking a safe dry cosy place out of the storm. Though, now I’ve said that, it does make sense. I know myself that (though I am not a Buddhist) sometimes the only way forward, the only means to seek the truth, and to find peace, is to take refuge somewhere or in someone or something.

Not being a Buddhist as I said, I’m not qualified to speak about Buddhism in any real detail. What I have in mind is I would like to borrow the Three Refuges and reflect on how we could all use what me might call a ‘secular’ interpretation as a way of putting into words our own commitment to finding a refuge, a safe haven as we tackle what is for all of us born into a physical body, a life of trials, tribulations, ups and downs, storms and lulls, happy times and sad times, and all the rest of the package that’s called living a life.

Let’s take a look at each of the Three Jewels (also known as the Three Treasures which I like a lot), and think about how we can apply it to our own life, to our own seeking of refuge.

I take refuge in the Buddha.

For a Buddhist, the Buddha is the Guru, the teacher, the one who holds the Truth and shows the way. Many people would say right now, well that counts me out. I don’t follow a religion. I don’t have a teacher or guru. I’m just another regular person trying to make my way through life.

While it may be true that you don’t have a teacher or priest or guru, or anyone else in the role of guide, there is one person who is always there with and for you, one person who is always thinking about you, who is making decisions for you on which way to go, what to do and all the rest: you.


Yes, you. Your Self. When it comes down to it, who knows you better than you do? Take refuge in you, in the Self. Need to make a hard choice? Look within. Feeling tired, or ill or fed up? Look within you for the answers to what can be done. Follow your intuition. You, plus intuition, plus you taking refuge in you, equals teacher, guide. You are your own guru.

I take refuge in the Dharma.

Once again there’s a myriad of ways to define dharma. And once again, I have a favourite: Dharma (often represented by a wheel) according to the religious tradition we know as Hinduism is cosmic or universal law that underpins right behaviour. It is the eternal and inherent nature of reality. In other words it is Truth.

We can all say, regardless of our beliefs say, I take refuge in the truth and in what is right. It’s a commitment to always acting in the best interests of everyone – including ourselves (maybe even especially ourselves). It is taking shelter or refuge in what is right. Living such a life in our messed up world is never going to be easy, so it is best to think in terms of doing the best one can. But having it as your ongoing guide will ease the path.

I take refuge in the Sangha.

A Sangha is an association or a community. Often used to describe monastic communities of monks or nuns, it may also include lay people. If we step outside of the religious framework, then a Sangha is a community that shares common bonds, beliefs, commitments, interests, and so on. Family, tribe, workmates, recreational and sports clubs. You name it: all sorts of groups might be sanghas or communities.

Of course, and perhaps very obviously, not all groups will be communities, And equally we may not think we are a part of any community; we may think of ourselves as being quite outside any group. However there are no rules that say a community has to have a set number of members. Besides, being in community is a condition and has nothing to do with group size or composition.

So, if you find yourself in a community of one – or two or however many – take refuge there. Make a commitment there. As with any other real community, this one begins with you and your truth.

The Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha. The Teacher, the Truth, and the Community. Making commitments to the Three Refuges can create a solid foundation as we continue our journey through the world and our lives. The refuges – the safe havens we can call them – we have sought and found will support us through good and bad times.

Actually, I just thought: if we are genuinely able to take true refuge in these three treasures then we will conditioning our Selves to be more present, more in the here and now of who we are, what we’re doing, and what’s happening to us.

Peace to you from me