To Speak or Not to Speak & What Not to Speak About When You Do Speak

Have I mentioned lately that I talk far too much? No? Well then, it’s way past time to once again confess; it’s  time that I finally get it out into the open: the thing is you see, umm, I talk too much. There I’ve said it.

But wait, there is no need for concern: I have a prayer (stuck in my Bhagavad Gita, where else?) that I pray at least a couple of times a day. Well, rather than being a prayer, it’s a kind of affirmation or instruction to myself. Okay, it’s a prayer.


It’s a nice injunction, I think. I don’t recall where I borrowed it from, but I’m grateful that I came across it. It’s important to me; a vital instruction that I feel assists me in my aspiration to be a bit more thoughtful, and a bit less vocal.

Does it work?  Well with the risk of repeating myself, I will say yes. Maybe I’m a bit more thoughtful and perhaps a bit  less vocal. But, on the other hand, I wouldn’t say I was anywhere close to the ‘spending no time’ level.

Now that I’m thinking about it, illusion, fear, and wrong thinking are common themes in many people’s lives, and we might even say that they dominate our culture whether it’s the media, celebrity gossip, or any of the rest of the illusory and speculative talk that goes on all around us.

Tunnel to the Light

Anyway, fear is the biggie isn’t it? Fear of not having enough; fear of not being good enough; fear of what might happen or what might not. This list is endless. Fear of illness or ageing; fear of losing friends or fear of not having any! Fear of ‘missing out on the good life’ we imagine everyone else is living.

Then there is what’s called, the fear of the other, most often promoted and replicated by the mass media through their creation of illusions, fake news, exaggerated  or one-sided information (I hesitate to use the terms ‘facts and figures’ but you know what I mean). And then they sell us on ideas that we need to fear some other person, people, thing, time, impending catastrophe that never comes.

I don’t need to go on here: as I said, the list is endless. All that’s left to say about these fears and the illusions we are force-fed and made to believe are real, is that it all boils down to costing us a great deal of time spent and usually wasted, in wrong thinking of one kind or another.

It seems to me the media (news and social), advertising, and governments of all persuasions, are really quite happy for us all to be ‘getting the wrong end of the stick’. I think that’s the expression. Our societies are drowning in, for want of a better word, propaganda.

Buy this, do that, don’t do the other thing. Be afraid of (insert the latest scapegoat, political opponent, boogy man, the Apocalypse. Again it’s an endless list).

Then there are the fears we invent for ourselves, the illusions about ourselves that in our wrong thinking we come to believe are all real and true. One thing you can say about wrong thinking is that it makes for more and more wrong thinking. More illusions about who we are, what we do (or can’t do), what we are like, who likes (or doesn’t like) us. Here I once again risk repeating myself, but yes, it’s a long long list.

So, what can we do? Well, we could use a little reminder like the one we’re talking about here. It’s possible that it can help us correct a little of the wrong thinking that leads to fears and illusions.

Then there is what we might call discernment. Not so much deciding between one thing and another; more like coming to know what is real or illusion, a genuine, rational fear that I need to act on, or some inherited, manipulated, received  or otherwise irrational, baseless, or invented ‘fear’.

We won’t get rid of wrong thinking by trying to push it away. It’s about replacing the wrong thinking with some right thinking. We can try to recognise that wrong stuff as it comes up. We can make an effort to stop allowing ourselves to get away with our own misunderstandings, our own wild imaginations, wishful thinking, and confusions. As my teacher said just the other day, use your mind to control your mind.

One word we haven’t discussed from my little injunction is discussing. We discuss things when we talk or communicate  with others or when we talk to ourselves. Here we are at another issue for discernment: what shall we talk about?

Actually I was about to write that one excellent strategy for not spending time discussing illusions, fears, and wrong thinking is to simply stop talking altogether. That’s all there is to it: Don’t talk!

But obviously that’s a ridiculous notion right? Stop talking? Perhaps for a set time? Or perhaps as a kind of ‘time-out’ strategy? But as a principle for a whole life, it’s not going to appeal to the majority of us. Actually, that feels to me like a bit of wrong thinking creeping in: a life of no, or at least limited talking is very appealing to me. Just difficult.

Still that does seem to be what my treasured injunction suggests I do. Mind you, it’s very specific isn’t it? Spend no time, it says. Discussing what? Illusions, fear, and wrong thinking.

So, how do we manage to follow this suggestion ‘to the letter’ as they say?

Here’s another little prayer I say everyday. This one is from Thomas Merton.


Keep silent ‘except in as far as God wills it’. For God I could say the good of all concerned; Truth; my heart; my goodwill; my love. It’s all God; it’s all the Divine.

I guess it gets back to something I said earlier about thinking before I speak. To this I would now add, feel before I speak: What’s right? What’s wrong? Does this help? Will this hurt someone else for myself.

About right and wrong: In the religious  tradition I was ‘raised in’ it was deemed that at the age of seven or eight a child is suddenly, without any preparation, able to discern right from wrong. Which means they are now responsible for the consequences of their thoughts, words, deeds. In other words, they are now capable of sinning and suffering  the consequences.

I can’t (obviously) speak for you or anyone else, but it’s been a very very long time since I was seven or eight, and I still find it tricky sometimes working out right from wrong. Of course while I know I am now responsible for my thoughts, words and deeds, I also know that we are all flawed; nobody’s perfect, so we’re going to make mistakes. 

So, all I can do – all any of us can do – is appeal to the innermost Self and use my intellect and my heart to try to discern as best I can, what is right and what is wrong.

Only in the innermost places where the real Self dwells can we know reality from illusion; it is only in our ‘heart of hearts’ as they say, combined with our rational thinking mind, what fears are real and what fear is illusion. And it is only then that heart and intellect can determine when our thinking is headed down the wrong (or the right) track.

It’s only then that we will know what and what not to spend our time discussing, either with others or internally within ourselves.  This all sounds like a long, convoluted, tricky process (told you I talk (write) too much!), but it needn’t be.

Like all things it takes practise, and once we begin to know that innermost Self, it will soon become a spontaneous way of living, when we begin to ‘just know’.

Your own inner divinity (which is the real you) wishes for you peace.

Om Shanti, Shanti, Shanti.

A Story of Words and a Journey of Discovery

Remember that old Bee Gees‘ song Words?  It’s about one person offering all they have to another. Well, the one doing the offering must have been a writer because, while the song’s a love story, it’s words that are the big thing on offer here:

It’s only words, and words are all I have
To take your heart away

Well, as this is a blog, words are the way it hopes to reach your heart. Actually, the posts also include photos and sometimes other art, but the main vehicle used here is words.

So, with that in mind I have a couple of words to offer you today. Well, one word and its opposite. Have a look at this sentence from Thomas Merton:

If Irish monks affirmed his Celtic spirit in their mastery of cataphatic contemplation of the wonders of divinity in nature, Buddhist monks evoked his Zen mind and drew him into the apophatic path of formless ’emptiness’…

A quote from the Introduction to When the trees say nothing: nature writings of Thomas Merton

As sentences go (though this is obviously only part of a sentence) this has to rank pretty close to the top for length and denseness.

Kataphatic. What a word! Of course I had to look it up; I’d never heard the word before (this post is a rewrite from notes written a while ago that I never got around to posting.), and even though the sentence seems to  suggest the meaning, I was still curious.

Looking at Wikipedia – where they spell it with a ‘C’ like Merton, as well as with a ‘K’- I learned that cataphatic is an adjective that describes an approach to theology that uses ‘positive terminology to describe or refer to the divine (God, Truth, Dharma, Spirit. You know what I mean: the divine).

Apophatic, as you probably figured out already, is when one uses ‘negative terminology to indicate what it is believed the divine is not’. A process of negation or we could say you get to what the divine is by a process of elimination.

Pretty simple concept really, but with a couple of big words to label it, and a lot of  words to define it. No, don’t worry, I won’t bore you with the meaning and origin of the words and all the rest. Mainly because I don’t know and I’m not especially interested anyway in all that technical stuff.

I simply resonated with the word, and the concept. Cataphatic made me think of Dick Van Dyke and Julie Andrews singing Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious in Mary Poppins. But let’s not go there: this is a serious blog after all. Except to say there’s more to that word than you might imagine.

Putting aside the aesthetic appeal of the word for a minute, let’s contemplate a while on cataphatic, and it’s opposite, apothatic.

To begin thinking about these two words, it’s necessary to acknowledge the existence of the divine. We can call it God, if we like. Or Dharma, Truth, Spirit, Love, Beauty.

As the quote suggests, a cataphatic approach, ideology, theology, or whatever we call it, ascribes names and forms to the divine, as well as describing where and in what the divine may reside.

Whereas apothatic, again as the quote suggests, does not ascribe names and forms to the divine. Instead it seeks to discover what or who god is or isn’t by a process of negation as described already. 

For a long time I labelled myself as a Humanist. I had decided that this physical body is all there is; the physical or material universe is all there is, and that there is no ‘god’ separate from us or who has special powers to affect our lives. No God at all in fact.

In the Grove of the Sentinals

But, all that while, I just knew that there was something else, something more than just the physical.  And over time, I came to the knowledge that there is indeed more than the simply phsical universe (including we humans).

I’ve thought about it a lot over the years and I came to the conclusion not that many years ago, that I had simply been afraid to name or define that something more. It would have meant admitting to myself that something more really did exist.

That is to say, I was scared of taking the cataphatic approach – and I’d never even heard the word.

Well brothers and sisters, I saw the light. The truth was revealed to me. And what is that truth? Well, to put it simply, I wasn’t scared anymore. Not of names and forms, and not of what I couldn’t see.

Now I could take both the Catophatic and the Apothatic approach: that the something else I had actually always known just was, really is, and can have a name and form, or not. The divine is not an omniscient being or any kind of being at all; As I’m very fond of saying, the divine (or truth, God, Dharma) simply is.  And it’s all there is.

Some of you might know that I am really quite fond of the Indian deity, Ganesha . Do I believe that a man with the head of an elephant actually exists or ever existed?. Of course not. Do I actually think that he resides in the lovely painted icon that sits by my bed? Well, obviously not.

But do I believe that there is a spark or aspect or attribute in all life, in you and me, in nature, in (scary word time) creation, that we can tap into to help us overcome obstacles? Or that we can access when we begin new ventures of whatever kind, or when we need strength to face challenges? Yes, I do. Very definitely.

And do I believe in a blue boy called Krishna who lived in India 5000 years ago and spent his time playing in the fields with the village cows and his friends, entertaining them with his flute? Again, of course not. Does he live in the other beautiful icon by my bed? The answer is obvious: no.

But do I chant the Hare Krishna mantra in an effort to come closer to the divine that is… well, that just is? Yes, again, very definitely.

Words. It’s all only words. Only words? Only??

In the beginning was the word, and the word was  with God and the word was God. (from the opening of the Gospel of John)

It’s all I have (for now).

Peace and Love from me to you

Making Peace with Poetry and a Prayer

Namaste my friends

The poem I want to share with you today has, I think, been shared on this blog before. I haven’t checked because I didn’t want to be tempted to censor myself and not post it again if it has been posted.

The poem, titled simply Peace Prayer, has a repeating refrain in each verse:

Our Lady Queen of Peace Pray for us.

A couple of days ago I came across a church dedicated to this particular manifestation of the Divine Feminine. I know it doesn’t seem to be such a far-out coincidence, but up till then, I had never encountered a church with this name.


So, obviously, it reminded me of my poem, written a couple of years ago now. As well as the story that prompted its writing:

When I was 12 my father went to war. As a professional soldier, he went as a part of this country’s commitment to its American allies in its war against Vietnam.

Our family was, at least nominally, Christian at that time, and anyway, desperate times do indeed call for desperate measures.

Which means we, my mother, my sisters, and I, formed a tiny prayer circle every night for over a year to pray for my father and for peace.

These days I no longer label my beliefs, not if I can help it anyway. What I seek now is the Divine wherever it is to be found. Which is everywhere of course!

In any case, here is my poem. It’s always the right time to pray for peace, though we should always remember our prayers are really directed at ourselves. It’s up to us to answer the prayer as we are able and see fit.

Peace and love to you all.

Peace Prayer

The father, the husband, the man of the house
He’s away. At the war.
Our Lady Queen of Peace pray for us.

Away at the war, yes,
In a far off land. Not his own.
Our Lady Queen of Peace pray for us.

Away at the war. “Incountry”.
that’s what they call it.
Our Lady Queen of Peace pray for us.

At home the children, the wife and mother wait.
Wait and pray.
Our Lady Queen of Peace pray for us.

At home they wait yes.
Each night on their knees,
in a circle. Prayer circle.

Away at the war, he is fighting. For what?
At home, they are praying. For what?
Our Lady Queen of Peace pray for us.

The Best Job in the World

Indeed, it is clear to all who dwell there that through them the world is kept in being

I jotted down this note I forget how long ago. Over the last few years I’ve read a lot about the early Christian hermits who lived in the deserts of Egypt, Syria, and other areas of that area we label the Middle East.

While I think it was one of these early hermits who uttered these words, it may instead have been a monk or hermit from the 9th or 10th Century, living in the forests of Russia or Eastern Europe. (I wish was a lot less careless with sources for things I note down).

In any case, it was spoken by a hermit or monk who, along with perhaps thousands of other men and women, fled the strict dogmatism of both government and religious institutions , as well as the corruption, materialism, noise, and all the other distractions of the cities and towns.They went to the deserts, the forests, and other remote places, in search of solitude, silence, and peace.

They longed to commune with the divine. They chose to bypass the mire of worldliness, and hoped to find a better way to serve the divine and the world. The writer or speaker of our quote is pointing our attention to all those who went to the deserts, the forests, and other sanctuaries, who in her or his words, believe they are actually keeping the world going, and its people too.

These nuns, monks, priests and hermits, knew that by communing with the divine without distractions, and living a simple life completely and absolutely centred on the divine, was the way to save the world.

‘So’, you might be saying with a slightly cynical tone in your voice: ‘These are people who have ‘escaped’ from the world and are ignoring governments and the law, rejecting social status of any kind, not associating with other people like other good citizens. They’ve gone to sit in a hut or cave or whatever and are doing nothing productive at all. They’re not buying stuff so they aren’t contributing the the economy. And you say they are the ones keeping the world spinning round? Hardly.’

There are hermits everywhere.

Yes, I think they are. Keeping the world spinning I mean. Just as mystics from all the world’s religious traditions, these women and men of the deserts – and the forests too – knew that the world they’d left behind wasn’t real. Well, yes, it’s real enough of course: I mean we only have to look around us, and feel the workings of our bodies. It’s real alright.

But, realer (I know, it’s not a real word) than this physical world we are in and are an integral part of, is what lies within us as well as everything else in the Universe:

Holy Wanderer
Detached from all Worldly Entanglements

The divine, God, the life force, Consciousness. So many names for the same thing. Many of us sense that at the core of ourselves there is ‘something else’; that there is some kind of intelligence for wont of a better word. This intelligence is what illumines life, as in life, the universe, and everything.

But, we don’t see this, or not so often anyway. The mire of worldliness (a phrase I mentioned earlier and which I like very much) seems to be specifically designed to keep us in the dark so to speak, about our true nature.

Think about the seemingly endless focus on materialism with its temptations and promises to make us happy; the conflict and competition among individuals and nations to acquire more power, possessions, land and anything else that ‘they’ve got and that we want’.

Mire is a good word: We’re trapped and sinking fast in a kind of quicksand.

And this mire keeps us from becoming aware, from realizing, that we are the Consciousness (the word I prefer but, as I said, names are just names) mentioned above. It keeps us ignorant of our true nature, and we go on and on struggling to keep afloat in the world.

The hermits of the past and the present, the nuns, monks and other contemplative people of all kinds, and, in many and various places, are all engaged in a quest to know – and yes, to realise – that they and everything else in the material and non-material universe is Consciousness.

I believe that, far from being unproductive, from ‘doing nothing’, It is the engagement by such people everywhere with this quest that does indeed keep the world in being.

Courtesy Wikimedia Commons Thank you

I would like to leave you with a couple of quotes if I may.
The first is from Abba Moses, one of the greatest of the early desert fathers who was born in Ethiopia and lived in Egypt in the 4th Century:

Our objective is puritas cordis,’ Abba Moses told Cassian and Germanus [fellow monks].A heart kept free of all disturbance. The more we cultivate such inner stability, the more we can offer our lives in service to the world.’

Courtesy Wikimedia Commons Thank you

The second quote I would like to share is from Saint Seraphim of Sarov, a 19th Century Russian monk who lived as a hermit deep in the woods:

‘Acquire a peaceful spirit, and thousands around you will be saved.’

Probably the best gig in the world I would say.

Peace and love

The Beginning of Devotion: A Poem

The Paradox of the Hermit Life (Courtesy of @travellinghermit3)

THE BEGINNING OF DEVOTION

Attention, paying attention.
It’s the beginning of devotion.
And when you see? When there is seeing?
Well, seeing is praise.

When we see, what we see,
is God.
Not the god, or this or that god.
There aren’t lots of gods,
or so it seems.
And in the end, there isn’t even one god:
there is only God.
So it was said by the sages.

If the Tea Needs Stirring: Lessons in Presence (A Poem)

Greetings friends A poem today for you to read and enjoy

If the Tea Needs Stirring: Lessons in Presence

Just now, just here,
stirring the tea.
A flash, an insight;
in reality a realisation
dawned as the tea brewed.

Suddenly I’d seen the solution
to finding the real Self,
to success in the search,
to completing the quest for Truth.

Just keep doing this.
That was the sense of it.
That’s what I heard with the mind’s ear.

Stir the tea?
Yes.
Then? Keep on keeping on.
Step by step,
One task – or no task – to the next.
Just a wu wei flow.
In, through and on the ongoing moment;
on the path of least resistance.
But beware, take care:
That path is not the slippery slope
of apathy, of indifference.
It’s not the way of doing nothing.

It is the way of being,
Of being within your doing.
Fully present, only present.
The tea needs stirring?
Then stir it.

Be the actor – the stirrer.
Be the spoon,
Be the tea.
That’s all there is.

A Small Gift

An Encircling Embrace (Unknown and brilliant street artists)

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

Hommage aux Ailés

Creatures of the Air,
the Winged ones.
Same like you and me:
Bound to material nature.

Homage to Holiness: A Story to Share with You

This morning as I do most mornings (trying to make it every morning) I sat for my practice starting with some prayers and reading a a few random verses from Bhagavad Gita.

Then I settled to spend some time in devotional chanting of mantra. For a change this morning, while chanting I listened to a lovely album of devotees chanting the Hare Krishna mantra:

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

I reached for my mala (prayer beads or rosary) and as I mentally repeated these holy names in accompaniment to the recording, I held a bead between my fingers for each repetition, focusing on the chant.

Now, chanting is much like any other human activity: that is to say, the mind is always there. Usually it manages to bring up all kinds of irrelevant fears, memories, questions, you name it. Today, however, one of those supposedly random memories actually caught my attention in a good way and took me along.

As I continued handling my prayer beads I thought about a story I read in India nearly 15 years ago now. The story concerned prayer beads as it happens. Buddhist nuns, imprisoned in Tibet, were forced  to resort to making their own rosaries in secret after their meagre belongings had been seized.

Almost ten years later, after another extended stay in India, I finally was able to write about this story. In this instance it came into being as a poem I called Homage to Holiness. May I share it with you here?

Homage to Holiness

Threads harvested from threadbare clothing.
Pea-sized bits of bread, sliced from meagre rations,
secretly hoarded for sacred purpose.

Mala makers work at night
in the dark of the stinking and freezing stone cell.
Chewed bits of bread become dough again,

and, by feel, frozen fingers knead the dough
until tiny beads are created.
An even tinier twig, again by feel, pierces each bead through.

Then in solemn prayerful silence and focus,
the nun passes her harvested thread through the first bead.
She ties a knot, no easy task with freezing fingers in the frozen dark.

And so it goes; all sacred duties take their own time.
One by one; one bead of bread threaded; one knot knotted.
The nun nears collapse. But now, at last, her task is done.

As the last knot is knotted, the last bead in its place,
the nun sighs and mutters, whispers, a prayer of thanks.
One hundred and eight beads – plus one – made, and strung
Her Mala
Om Mani Padme Hum

Probably the most sacred and significant of all Buddhist Mantra, Om Mani Padme Hum, means something like ‘the jewel is in the lotus’. But many would say it goes a lot further than the mere literal translation of the words; It is said to be the actual path to Enlightenment. There is a huge amount of information on the Internet about this mantra, so if you’re interested a good place to start is at this link.

Whatever the actual literal meaning, interpretation, or who chants it,  I think we can all agree that the intent of this mantra is to have us focus on the divine, or on the Ultimate or Absolute reality. The same as any mantra one might choose actually. Remember last post? God is.

in any case, I think somewhere above I’ve used the word random. Well I should know better by now: no such thing as random. One of the Bhagavad Gita verses I read – in fact the final one I left marked with my bookmark – seems to me fit very nicely with that ‘random’ memory of a story read years ago, and my humble retelling of the story in a poem many years later

One who knows the Absolute and whose intelligence is fixed on the Absolute is not moved by pleasure or pain, pleasant or unpleasant happenings.

Bhagavad Gita 5:20

Did that nun imprisoned as she was in the dark and the cold feel that pain? Did she feel fear? Of course she did. The thing is, she was, as constantly as her circumstances allowed, fixed on the Absolute: the activity of making the mala, the intended use of the mala, and her prayerful attention and devotion as she worked, all enabling a complete fixing of mind, heart, and attention onto the Absolute.

The cold was still there; the hunger and fear too. But this nun was able to remain centred, you might even say calm and content, despite the dire situation.

Actually content was a word I read in relation to this nun and her sisters (she wasn’t alone in that prison cell): From what I read they were released after some time, and eventually escaped to India where they rejoined friends, family, and of course their leader the Dalai Lama

At the time the story was being recorded for posterity, the Mala Maker reported that she was happy and content and leading a full and fulfilling life. I imagine her as still being fixed on the Absolute.

Thank you for allowing me to share these moments with you
Love and peace

Tell Me: What is God? Dominus Est

Welcome dear reader

Have I shared with you my Bhagavad Gita? Well, I know I’ve mentioned a few times that it’s one of, if not the primary resource for study and guidance for me.

As you’ve probably guessed, this is a quick photo of the inside of the front cover. And, again as you’ve noticed, I like to stick things in my books, especially this little one. (Actually now I mention it, this is the only book in the traditional format as in made of paper, I own). It’s an old practice and for me adds multiple dimensions and depths to what is already a treasure.

Sometime I’d like to go through and describe to you all that I have added, but for today, do you see the little green section with the words Dominus Est printed?

In the religious tradition I was raised in, these two words have a specific meaning and use. However, it’s only recently that I’ve come to think of this little Latin phrase (well technically it’s a sentence, but …) in the sense of the literal meaning of the words themselves: God is.

That’s it. Or the Lord is, or the Master is. If we change the Dominus, we can use this tiny sentence to define our conception of the divine, the holy, in any way that seems right: Truth is, Beauty is, Art is. For me, God is, sits right. As do the others in this list. Same same.

So, God Is. What else could possibly be said that would add to this already very emphatic and simple statement? Nothing at all. It’s stand-alone, complete in itself.

Like asking who or what is God, we can answer: ‘I am this’ or ‘I am not that’. Or we can realise what for me is becoming the only answer:
I am.

Why? Well, if we were to add anything at all to these two words, such as God is Truth, or God is Love, or God Resides in …, or God is called … , then we are in fact stating only a little of the truth. Sure, God is truth and love, and goes by many names and is found in many forms, but once we say what something is, we are actually making more of a statement about what it is not.

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

Mind you, it’s perfectly natural, and for many of us helpful, even necessary, to ascribe to God a name and or form. We are ourselves material beings, living in a material universe; it’s logical that we would choose (or need) to see God in a word, a physical object, or attribute some other kind of materiality to our notions of the divine.

I must say that I am one of those who find it difficult to envisage an invisible, non-physical, and impersonal ‘God’. Of course, our little statement, God is, does indeed say just this doesn’t it? Isness is pretty non-corporeal, certainly not in the least physical. And isn’t even a ‘spirit’ or ‘entity’ of any kind; Isness just is. The moment we label something (including ourselves) we miss that isness, that essence.

You see my picture of Krishna and Radha? This form, or forms, is one of the several that I feel right in having as a kind of focus, or centre of my devotion to and love for the divine; for love, for truth, and for it all.

You might be saying, this guy does believe in a personal God. He just told us. The truth is I don’t believe or not believe that Krishna (or any of the myriad names and forms we’ve invented) is God. God simply is. And my heart tells me that this is enough.

There are a pair of theological ideas known as Cataphatic Theology, and Apophatic Theology. Cataphatic describes or approaches the divine by stating what God is, while Apothatic (you guessed it) describes God by speaking only of what God is not.

My guess is that pretty much everybody, from whatever tradition, would approach the divine (and not only the divine) in one or other of these ways. But for me it was such a relief to realise that there was no need to go there at all. I could stop with the definitions and the descriptions, the what is and what is not. I have the freedom to not have to believe or not beleive. None of it matters. Dominus Est. God is.

Am I there yet? Have I let go of dualities? Hardly. Maybe the odd glimpse, but it’s rare. And it always will be for as long as I live in a physical body. But to paraphrase something Swami Ramdas said:

I’ve set my feet upon the path, so I am already at the goal.

Peace and love from me to you