One of the things I like about one of our local coffee shops is that they play a nice wide selection of music. Mostly popular songs from pretty much every decade back to the ’60s. I think they have one of those looping playlists you hear sometimes in shops and cafés.
It must be quite a long list because you don’t necessarily hear the same songs repeated at every visit. Which is a nice thing too.
Anyway, yesterday the chorus of a song I heard played got stuck in my head. The song, You’re the Voice, was a hit around the world in 1986 when it was released by Australian singer John Farnham.
It’s essentially a protest song reminding us that we all have a voice, and encouraging us to use our voices to stand up against corruption and war. One of the co-writers Chris Thompson missed out on going to an anti-nuclear protest because he slept late. He felt so badly about sleeping in that he wrote the lyrics reminding us about taking personal responsibility and making our voices heard.
Okay, back to the chorus getting stuck in my head.
You’re the voice, try and understand it Make a noise and make it clear Oh woah. We’re not gonna sit in silence We’re not gonna live in fear Oh woah
You see? It’s very catchy, and an excellent piece of advice too. And, for a hermit monk, it’s actually advice I could and do aspire to live by. Just not quite in the sense the song intends perhaps.
This morning, when my partner hermit suggested we just sit in silence for a while, I spontaneously started singing the chorus, though a slightly modified version:
We’re just gonna sit in silence We’re not gonna live with fear.
Then, as I sat in said silence, I got to thinking about the words of the chorus. Nobody wants to live in fear, yet it is an aspect of the human condition and something so many people live with constantly all over the world. All through human history as well.
The message of the song reminds us all that we have a voice which we can use to help create a state of affairs in which we don’t have to live in quite so much fear, fear that’s coming at us from so many sources.
For me, this is a vital, fundamental, and absolutely essential principle. Without those who do stand up, those who do use their voices to try to right wrongs, then, well I can’t think of what that might mean.
Yet, for me, I’ve chosen silence. Not only chosen I must admit: temperament, my own nature, health, all are factors that have made silence the best course for me to take. Silence as in seclusion from the world, minimizing outside imput, and reducing as much as possible the attachment to the world and its things and fears.
And this way of living ironically allows me to use my voice in my own ways to address the Truth as I see it; to help effect change and contribute to the healing so sorely needed.
Being ‘out there’ and engaged with worldly things and activities and interacting with people constantly causes me so much anxiety that it threatens my health and ability to act in the world.
There is also the personal choice aspect, common to so many who live a contemplative life. Silence – when I can actually achieve such a state – gives me the energy and clarity to write; it gives me the mental, emotional and spiritual ‘space’ and energy to pray, to contemplate, and to foster the ‘good vibrations’ I feel are also necessary to turn the world towards peace, healing, and truth, as well as to assist in maintaining the wellbeing of all life.
The world, and all of life, needs both those who can’t or won’t be silent (I’m definitely not suggesting the world needs more noise). We all need people who can and do raise their voices against war, poverty, corruption, and all the ills that plague us.
And it needs those who are able to ‘just sit in silence’. The work to be done is the same; the outcomes perused are the same; and in essence the means themselves aren’t all that different either. Silence as mentioned can include the use of our voices in ‘quiet’ ways, in ways that don’t have to relate so directly the affairs of the world.
It really is a symbiosis: Those of us living secluded and contemplative lives with our prayers, our witness, our creative endeavours, support those active and vocal ones out there trying to heal the world.
And at the same time those out there in the world support the secluded and contemplative ones. Their efforts and hard work, and simply knowing they are there, are encouraging and nurturing for the secluded and contemplative ones.
We are One after all. Yet our voices are all unique, each and every one. That’s what I understand to be true.
Just now (as in earlier today) I had some perfectly natural, normal, and expected thoughts about my prayer life. If I’m to be honest though, and perhaps a tad overly tough on myself, the thoughts I had felt slightly ridiculous given my professed commitment to praying constantly, and my supposed understanding of the meaning and function of prayer. In other words, there I was again: putting some kind of unrealistic expectations on myself – again!
Anyway, enough of that. To sum up those thoughts: I was thinking they – my prayers – aren’t working. Nothing is happening. And I was asking myself questions: What’s been achieved? What’s coming from all the effort? Where are the results?
And then, exactly at the moment I was writing down those thoughts and questions, I lifted my eyes from my notebook to see my partner-hermit approaching.
‘It’s my blessing at the moment,’ she said walking by my chair.
Why did she say that?
Because, right there before my eyes was evidence that none of my ridiculous thoughts and questions on my prayer life, had any meaning whatsoever. There was the answer, walking past me.
Everyday I affirm, I pray with longing and with hope, these words:
Let me keep silence in this world
Some days, like today for instance, the prayer feels empty, devoid of any hope, or faith on my part, that I will at some point really be able to attain at least a degree of silence.
Yes, I know, prayer is not some kind of magic formula by which one utters the words of the prayer as in some kind of incantation, then in due course that which has been prayed for appears or comes to pass as if by magic.
Prayer, rather, is affirmation in which the one praying places full attention on the words prayed and their meanings. And more importantly on the notion that the Universe is in perfect balance all of the time, and that things – all things – are manifesting how and where and when and why, and in precisely the manner that they’re supposed to.
Prayer is more a kind of wake-up call, a reminder notification to Self that everything is exactly as it is, and is meant to be that way.
Fine theory. Yet it’s a theory I sometimes know to be much more than a theory.
Other times, this being one of those times, I have a hard time, or I should say my mind can’t accept that silence does indeed exist. My mind is simply not able to grasp that silence is already within me, ready and able to give me peace.
Closed Cafe at the End of Lonely Street: Silence comes in many and varied forms
It is obvious to all of us I think, that silence is not simply the mere absence of words, of speech. Not talking is simply one aspect of silence; it’s like silence is a thing, an entity or state of being that doesn’t only imply an absence but suggests an adding on of a new state of being.
When I pray Let me keep silence, it is true that I am seeking the silence of the mind, the inner silence that can bring calm and quiet to the heart and whole of Self too. But, to be truly upfront as they say, it is the silence or quiet that emerges from time spent not speaking that I long for.
Long for? I use that word quite often and it’s occured to me that, while to long for something is to have a desire for that thing, a longing is actually more than a simple desire. It’s a very strong desire, a kind of desperate wanting or wishing for that thing. You might even call it a compulsion.
Now I think about it, what is the desire or drive that keeps me doing exactly the opposite? Why do i feel the need to be talking (thinking too, but here I’m thinking about talking too much) all the time? It is clearly also a compulsion. That’s the only conclusion I can come to.
So then, why the compulsion to talk all the time?
Well, to once again be frank, upfront, I don’t really care about the reasons for or causes of, this compulsion. Probably stems from deep-seated anxiety, long-standing low self-esteem, old habits, fear. The list of explanations could go on and on, but what would be the point of that?
The real point, for me, is that compulsive talking is no mere bad or inconvenient habit. Personally it can actually cause physical symptoms of the ‘feeling sick’ variety, as well as guilt, shame, even sadness and regret.
And even far worse still is that this compulsion causes at the very least for those around me annoyance and frustration. Incessant talking distracts them from their own thoughts and activities, disturbs their own desire for silence. It’s all very obvious to me.
So, while I am compelled to talk all the time and too much, at the same time I have a strong aversion to that very act of talking too much (and all the time). The talking too much causes suffering to myself and others, while my inability to change also causes suffering. A kind of no-win situation arises, has risen, is always present.
Okay then, what is the solution? Or, more to the point,is there a solution? Well, I didn’t start making these notes with the hope that I would somehow come up with a solution to this dilemma . But, having said that, I’ve been thinking while writing that I do seem hugely attached to the idea that I talk too much, and too often.
As well, I also seem desperately attached to the desire to stop talking so much and so often.
While doing all this (possibly excessive) thinking, I was reminded that the Buddha didn’t say that the cause of suffering is desire; what he said was (allow me to paraphrase): the cause of suffering is attachment to desires.)
You know, another thing I write and think of a lot, is the idea that things work out exactly as they’re meant to. Of course not so easy to actually believe all the time, especially when things aren’t going according our personal wants, desires, and wishes. But it’s another of the prayers if you like, the affirmations which speak of the truth of the balance of the workings of the Universe.
In a way then, despite the lack of intention, I may have nevertheless stumbled upon at the very least a hint of a solution to my dilemma.
We ourselves are merely one more manifestation or result of those workings of the Universe, of that natural order, of those laws of nature that keep it all (including us) in motion.
So, I’m back where I started when I described what I believe prayer to be: an affirmation and a statement of faith in the reality that the Universe is unfolding exactly as it should.
Perhaps if I spent more time (not to forget more heart, more mind, more love) in reminding myself of that reality, and less in toying with my compulsions and aversions and with all my efforts to shift and maneuver the natural order of things to my liking, then I might find that equilibrium , that – what’s the word? – equipoise – in which I may actually realise the balance that I know already and always exists. Maybe then I can finally attain silence.
Deep with the still centre of my being, may I find peace.
Silently within the silence of the grove, may I share peace.
Gently & powerfully within the greater circle of humankind, may I radiate peace.
Just a quick final note: my idea that the universe is working out exactly as it’s supposed to is not mine and it’s not new. I’ve quoted the beautiful poem/prayer Desiderata (the word is from Latin for things desired) before, but there’s a line from it that I’ve borrowed heaps of times:
No doubt the Universe is unfolding as it should
Thank you for allowing me the privilege of sharing all of this, which is really one long prayer, with you.
There is a sacred song by Krishna Das that I am especially fond of and find very uplifting. I’d like to share the lyrics of that song with you, as well as what it means to me. It’s called By Your Grace.
Closer than breath, you are the air Sweeter than life itself, you are here I am a wanderer, you are my peace I am a prisoner, you are release
Jai Gurudev…
I am a pilgrim, your road so long I am the singer, you are the song Held in the open sky, so far above I am the lover, you are the love
Jai Gurudev…
I follow your footsteps through the flame All that I ever need is in your name Carry your heart in mine, vast as space All that I am today is by your grace. By your Grace… I live by your grace.
And if you’d like to hear him as he sings the song (I guess you could call it a hymn?) then just go here.
Grace traditionally refers to a gift or blessing from God, or from the Divine, the Universe; whatever we call it. Generally it seems to only have a positive or even happy connotation. It’s as if grace, like love, in Bette Midler‘s The Rose, is only for the lucky and the strong.
But I think it can be looked at another way. Or rather, in a similar way but with a twist.
Krishna Das is onto something when he sings:
All that I am today is by your grace
And
All that I ever need is by your grace
He’s not saying ‘Well that was by your grace, but that other thing wasn’t. He says everything .The good, the bad and the ugly, as they say.
There’s an old expression that I like: By your leave. It means with your permission, with your power and authority you can (do) grant this or that. In this sense Das’s song is a prayer to his guru for the granting of all that has made his life what it is today, as well as giving him all that he needs and will ever need regardless of the nature of the things granted or not.
Life can be a bumpy and bruising ride, always is really. Simple way to put it, go with the flow
To me the song is not so much, or rather not just, about a prayer in order to be granted something; it is a hymn of gratitude. It’s both really. Das is expressing his gratitude to his Guru in the broadest sense of the world: the divine or the universe.
The laws of nature determine how the universe operates, how nature works itself out, which it always does, though of course, it isn’t always to our liking.
But if we are able to look at with an objective outlook, with no notion of good and bad, right and wrong, desired or not desired, then it can be seen as an elegant order that simply works. The Universe has no agenda, it simply is.
This way of looking at grace as being the natural order of the universe requires our surrender. Surrender in the sense of acceptance of the fact the the Universe unfolds exactly as it is supposed to.
This surrender, this acceptance of that natural order is not about being resigned, or fatalistic. It is the way to rid ourselves of irrational and wishful attachments to outcomes. Outcomes and results, that when they don’t work in ‘our favour’ cause us suffering.
Tirtha. There is much varied, detailed and fascinating information about this word on its Wikipedia entry. While I invite you to click the link and head over there to read what is truly a riveting story, for this post I wanted to focus on the word’s actual meaning, especially the metaphoric meanings it has acquired.
Tirtha is a Sanskrit word meaning ford, as in a place one fords or crosses a river, stream or other body of water. Over time, however places of religious pilgrimage began to be called Tirthas. This evolved because so many holy sites were on or near rivers or lakes, or were the water bodies themselves, or were located nearby.
Sacred sites, and places of pilgrimage often inspire in people a sense of leaving the ordinary material existence of their day to day lives, and entering a kind of other world, the world of the spiritual or non-material. This experience, which we might call spiritual or religious , is something people remember as being very special, even transformational; for them it speaks of a connection, even briefly, with the divine in the form or in the presence of that place or site.
Perfect example of a Tirtha as a literal crossing place that is also an ancient sacred site. Mother Ganga at Rishikesh in India
And after many years – centuries and millennia very often – the energies from sometimes countless pilgrims and their prayers, devotion, love and mere presence, accumulate and begin to permeate the atmosphere in that place as well as the very ground and sacred objects there.
To me this notion is reminiscent of the concept of thin places as described in Celtic Spirituality (though the concept by the same or other names exists for many cultures around the world. Sorry I’m not providing any links: there are so many!).
Some would say they are places where Heaven and Earth meet. Places where the boundary between the mundane world and that ‘somewhere else’ of the transcendent, is especially thin, and where crossing over, or connecting with that transcendent may be possible, or made easier than at other places.
Of course, as I’ve written in at least one previous post, I feel that we are always standing upon sacred ground; all things are sacred or holy. At the same time, I have, like so many others, experienced what seem to be very real connections to or mergings with something transcendent, something ‘spiritual’ as we like to call it, at specific sites or location.
A few of these places of my own transcendent experiences have been churches, temples, and other historically recognised sacred places. However, I would say that most of my own experiences have been at unexpected places, places where the ‘transcendent’ has been for me alone at that moment.
The Campaspe River after the floods receded
One such place for me happens to be a river called the Campaspe. It was here that the ashes of two fellow hermit pilgrims of the feline persuasion found their rest.
As I stood on the muddy bank of that river, and made my offering, I sensed that feeling I describe above; that feeling of oneness with or connection to the river, to that place. As those two little creatures whom I loved (and love now) and who are made of the same stuff as me, were returning to some kind of essential or foundational state, we were there and connected with them as they continued on their journey.
I knew then for sure the sacredness of that place, the thinness of the boundaries there. While then I didn’t yet know the word, the Campaspe River had for me became a Tirtha.
DEDICATED TO:
Shanti and Lofi. Two beautiful beings and fellow hermits and pilgrims on the journey with us. With us in our hearts and now off carrying on with their own adventures and pilgrimages.
Right at the front of my Bhagavad Gita (the only book aside from the notebook I’m writing this in, that I personally own), I have recorded and inserted sayings and various words , that are important to me. Among those things is a statement I first heard many many years ago, that is common among the First Nations’ peoples of this country:
I [We] stand always on sacred ground and beneath sacred skies.
It is not an affirmation of ownership or possession. It is, instead, an affirmation of belonging to the land, to nature. It is a prayer of thanks, and it is a declaration of the knowledge of unity with the rest of the natural world, that is the hallmark and foundation for Indigenous cultures throughout the world and through time.
I’ve valued – treasured – this sentiment for a very long time – probably from even before I first heard it, which was so long ago as to be lost to memory. Perhaps I always knew it because I’ve somehow always thought this idea was a fundamental truth concerning my existence as a being living on this planet.
Well, now I have heard another statement that for me makes a perfect compliment for this one. The other day, during a lecture, my teacher mentioned that in his student days a fellow student said:
Wherever you are, you are walking through Ishwara
(Ishwara being her preferred name for the divine – for all that is.)
There is a feeling or sense of ‘belonging’, of awe and wonder when we attempt to immerse ourselves in what we term the natural world.
Once again I immediately felt the bell of Truth ringing clearly through this statement. Yes, I thought, everything is divine – including our own selves – so of course it follows that wherever we go, whatever we do, we are always in the divine.
You’ve probably read a number of times me quoting my teacher quoting his teacher:
Emphasis very much on only. Meaning of course, that it’s not that God is within us, or that we are within God; we are not surrounded by God; and it’s not that God ‘sits in our hearts’. The reality (for my teacher’s teacher) was that all that is, everywhere, everything, every thought, every word and deed, everything there is, is the divine.
Another way to describe the divine or God, that appeals to me is that Ishwara (also my own preferred name for the Divine) is in reality the natural order of the universe as dictated by the laws of nature. Those laws of nature, the rules that govern how the universe works, are also Ishwara, as are all that is manifest or in existence as a consequence of the workings of those laws.
In other words, the Divine is the sum total of what some would call the entirety of creation.***
For the hermits a sacred site. Part of a grove we named The Sentinels. A place of experience of unity and oneness of creation
For me this an enormously comforting and reassuring concept. Of course, for me at least, it is also an extremely difficult one to wrap my head around. But here’s a small summary of what I think I’ve grasped so far.
Ishwara – the Divine – is all there is; everything. Also divine is the natural order of the Universe as governed by the laws of nature. These laws are neither good or bad – there is no duality. They are neutral.
You and I, as one more entity among who knows how many others, act as we do and are subject to the laws of nature, just like everything else. We can’t change or influence those laws; we can only live our lives as they unfold.
To quote from Desiderata: No doubt the Universe is unfolding as it should
And, well, then things just work out as they do. While we can’t change the laws of nature, or bend the universe to always suit our liking, it is also true to say that every action we take, every thought we think, every word we utter, even our very presence as a living being in our time and place, do indeed contribute to ‘how things work out’. Another way of saying this is to say, we do our bit, and the universe does its bit and what happens, well, happens.
For me, this is not at all as simple or as straightforward as it sounds. Naturally we see ourselves as individual selves, as entities on our own. After all, to state the obvious, we live and operate in a material (dualistic) world. So automatically we see ourselves as individuals living in, but always separate from all the other individual entities, as well as being disconnected from the world itself.
It is part of human nature (for the most part) to long for connection; there is so often a drive within us pushing us to create family, enter relationships, feel we belong to a community or communities, and for many but not all, there is the almost instinctive urge to seek connection with the rest of nature.
Many forms, One reality
We often think of these longings as goals to achieve, as something outside of ourselves to attain, to reach for. Consequently, so very often we tend to focus our attention outwards, towards other people, or material things.
But, instead, all these inclinations, desires and longings are simply our Self (note the capital?) endeavoring to open itself to discovering (or rediscovering?) that which already exists: our oneness with, and our non-separation, and non-difference from, The All That Is.
Peace and Love from Paul the Hermit
FOOTNOTE
***Just a few thoughts about naming, or giving labels to the Universe and its laws. Obviously it’s a personal choice for each of us what we choose to call that creation. Then, on the other hand, we don’t have to call it anything at all. For me personally it is very difficult, even near impossible to not name it. By naming the creation, I don’t think I am attributing the manifestation of the Universe to some distant entity living in some heavenly abode (as my teacher likes to say). Rather I am acknowledging the intelligence and order, beauty, complexity of all that is and how it all works, as its own reality. At the same time, I am learning to understand that I as my true nature am not separate from the rest of creation, and I feel the need to have a name towards which I am able to focus my thanks and my reverence.
It would be true to say that I’ve been on a spiritual journey all my life. Perhaps there have been other lives too, who can know? Who can work it out? And, anyway, I don’t think it matters at all. This life will do.
That’s an easy generalised statement to make I know. So, being more specific, let’s just say that for as long as I can remember I’ve been interested in and studied ‘spiritual stuff’; and in more recent years I’ve narrowed my focus, so to speak, and now I am on a deliberate and committed journey towards that time when I actually recognise, when I fully realise for myself that I am already one with God. Or the Divine, Dharma, Love, Absolute reality, Truth, Spirit. Many names and no names.
During this long journey, I’ve been blessed to have been exposed to so many sacred texts, scriptures, books, teachers, and so on, from so many different spiritual and religious traditions. And of course, the Christian New Testament ranks high among these treasure troves.
Like many of us, however, long before I actually read the text itself I had heard and was familiar with many of the stories and characters in the Gospels and so on. As well, over the years of childhood (and later too) I came to know several different Gospel verses. One of these in particular has long been a favourite (actually there are a lot of ‘favourites’ but …) and I couldn’t possible tally up all the times I’ve either thought about this verse or quoted it out loud.
For where two or three are gathered together in My name, I am there in the midst of them.”
Gospel of Matthew 18:20
Now, this verse comes in the context of a chapter with some really powerful teachings from Jesus to his disciples, in which he is telling them how things should work when people gather to pray, to praise, celebrate the Divine. Essentially in this and other verses Jesus talks about the characteristics that should be present in a community of disciples.
And everyone else too
Things like harmonious relations between people. He stresses the importance of forgiveness when people think someone has wronged them. There is a great stress placed on the value of consensus when it comes to decision making or disputes between people.
Another biggie is the emphasis on how people should not behave in any way that would cause their fellow disciples to ‘stumble’ or fall. Meaning I think, be a good influence, not a negative one on others.
I have a confession to make: I knew none of this before I read the full chapter along with a few commentaries quite recently. Let me tell you what I thought for many many years the verse meant.
For me, it was simple. It just meant what it says: If I gather with one or more other people in the name of Truth, Dharma, God, the Divine, or whatever else we might choose to call the Absolute Reality that is everything, then we are reminded to recognise that Absolute Reality is present with us and in us.
Which means we have to act accordingly, just as Lord Jesus advises. That is, with love, with an intention to foster consensus and harmony; in ways that build us all up and bring nobody down.
While Jesus was addressing the needs of the newly formed Christian communities, I believe that this verse can refer to any gathering of people of goodwill. And communication between people that has as its intent love, devotion, positive living, peacemaking of any kind. Basically any meeting of people that is infused with good intentions and the desire to pursue right action in the world, or internally within each individual. And when you think of it like this, then it pretty much covers any coming together of people doesn’t it?
I especially like the use of the phrase I am in the verse. Of course, the ‘I AM‘ is a name for God.Essentially there is no need for any other name because ‘God’ encompasses everything and there is no need to ‘label’ that I AM because that would limit what is actually Absolute Reality to some ‘created thing’, which is less real or perhaps absolutely unreal!
Notice I seem to be labelling the I AM as Absolute Reality. That’s the trouble with us limited beings: we have to use words to help us define or describe everything. So be it. Some people will call that Absolute Reality as God. Others will call it the Divine, Truth, Love, Dharma, and a million other names (or by no name as I said earlier).
This verse promising the presence of I AM may have been uttered by the human incarnation we know as Jesus, but for me, those words in truth came from Universal Consciousness, the I AM. Meaning, again for me, Universal Consciousness or Absolute Reality, which really is all there is.
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’…
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)
Well, here we are with the third and final part of our contemplations on Flee, Be silent, Pray Always, the answer discovered by our friend Arsenius who was looking for a way to be saved from the the things of the world.
In a very real sense, this third injunction might be seen as the most important of the three. Indeed, again in a very real sense, those first two seem to me to be prerequisites for the third. Certainly, many of us would like to flee to a place and state of silence in order to escape the world and its many and varied causes of our suffering. Such people are simply and completely over the noise, the chaos, war, greed, the complexity of relationships, and all the rest.
Then there are many many others who, rather than looking to escape the world, are wanting to ‘flee’ towards a place and state of silence in order to engage more fully with the world by contemplation, meditation, and most of all, prayer. Such people are working towards making their entire lives a prayer.
And then there are the third group which is made up of those who have some sense of running away from the world while at the same time they feel compelled to move towards a contemplative life that they sense will be the best way they can actually serve the world.
I think I can include myself in this last group. I’ve never coped well with masses of people, being in the workforce, or dealing with the horrors that the world seemed to be overwhelmed with.
At the same time, I’ve always wanted to (and have tried to) combat injustice, racism, violence and the rest. I guess you could sum it up by putting it this way: I was (still am) an oversensitive person who one day had had enough of trying to ‘fight the system’ when it was the system making and changing the rules of the game as it went along.
Better I thought, to turn inwards in order to reach or realise my oneness with all living things. I’ve always been predisposed to praying as well, so it was a natural evolution in many ways. My intention and commitment these last few years has been (and still is of course) to pray continuously and with all my being.
My prayer is for the release from suffering for all living beings and that’s my central focus for prayer. For me, it feels very much that I am a lot more use to others living what I think of as a prayerful contemplative life than being actively engaged with the world out there in the midst of it all so to speak.
Pray Always
Prayer for me is not so much about petitioning some all-powerful being who is seemingly on a whim able to grant or refuse my wishes. For me it is more an affirmation of the reality of my already existent oneness with the entirety of the universe. It’s a way of seeking to actually realise that this oneness is my very Self.
Prayer is about being present, not wishing blindly that things be different than they are. In praying I seek to affirm that the ‘universe is unfolding as it should’, as it says in a famous poem I’ve always loved. (Actually if you don’t know about Desiderata [Things Desired] then please do check it out; you’ll love it).
I think that in this sense, prayer is in fact an act of mindfulness, or rather an act which will help develop a mindfulness practice. It is a way to practise being fully focused and present to whatever is going on, whatever circumstances we find ourselves in.
And if we’re able to be present – even on a temporary or momentary basis – then we will be more calm, more at peace, and more able to achieve some clarity in our lives and with whatever is the intention with our prayer.
I know it might sound like a clumsy attempt at a clever play on words, but we’ve described mindfulness as the practice of being fully present. But we can put it another way. We can define that state of being fully present as being in presence. Like what we might say to a friend who is daydreaming while we are trying to talk to them. We might say something like ‘so and so, your presence would be appreciated’.
In presence of what? I would say everything. When we are absolutely in the present moment (again even momentarily), when we are able to realise our oneness with all things. Essentially the universe is there – or is it here? – with you in that present moment. It’s a moment when we may indeed feel we are in the presence of all that is.
Some may call that presence God, or the Divine, or Universal Consciousness. Others may see it as being in the presence of their own true and authentic Self.
That leads quite nicely to the next aspect of prayer that I want us to look at. Praying to God. I’ve spent so long on mindfulness because I wanted to stress that I don’t think it’s necessary to have a personal name or form for God, or even a notion of an unmanifested, invisible ‘force’ called God, in order to pray.
On the other hand for me, and I know for a lot of people, there are names and forms of the universal consciousness that pervades and permeates the universe, that I personally resonate with and I can reach out to them whenever the feeling or inclination arises. It sounds a bit odd to say, but for me to think that all that is, is all that is, sort of sums it up.
And as a result of that, any prayer I pray is addressed to my own Self which is simply part and parcel of all there is. In other words, it’s a personal choice for any one of us what form or name we choose to pray to. Or if we don’t pray to a name and form at all. All is one.
One thing I’ve mentioned I think a couple of times is the idea of making all our activities into a prayer, but other than the discussion on mindfulness and presence, I’ve not really addressed the how and why.
Why is pretty obvious. Because living and acting mindfully helps us in so many way such as being more peaceful, more relaxed, happier, and so on. The how, now I’m thinking about it is the purpose of this post. And it’s also true to say we’ve been talking about it since this series began.
That is to say, we flee from the aspects of our lives that don’t serve us and which can be changed. This might be a decision to spend 30 minutes every day sitting quietly and undisturbed. And as we’ve mentioned a few times already it could be going all out and moving to a desert cave somewhere.
In both those scenarios we give ourselves the opportunity to be silent and, hopefully also surrounded by silence. How to pray always? There’s an expression I love and try to live by: Follow your Dharma. Here Dharma means your own truth, being authentic to who you are, having the intention to do what’s right in all situations. And of course actually following through with that intention if at all possible. In this way you transform every action into prayer.
Living a life of prayer does seem on the face of it to not involve much use of spoken prayers, as in saying prayers with words. Well, I don’t intend to be humourous here, but a great deal of prayer does it fact involve talking to one’s Self. To the real self, that part of us that’s part of everything else. It can do us good to have these deep conversations.
Then of course there are the many many prayers that already exist to serve people from so many traditions, cultures, to suit all kinds of purposes and intentions.
Many of us will be familiar with a number of prayers learnt when we were children. If you’re anything like me, they still pop up by themselves from time to time.
Actually as I deepen my prayer practice, I’m discovering that I’m remembering all sorts of prayers from many and varied sources. I think as I dig deeper, more and more are coming up to the surface.
This prayer (by Thomas Merton I think) resonates deeply with me
If these ‘pre-prepared’ prayers say what you want to say and in a way that resonates with you, then you are free to choose those that feel right for you. I guess I mix and match the prayers I use; it’s always dependent on my feelings, thoughts, and intentions at the time.
Like Arsenius, I try to be open and responsive to whatever the ‘answers’ are, even though my ego does sometimes when it doesn’t like the answer, try and control outcomes.
One point about such prayers: I find it tempting oftentimes to simply recite them at what I’ve heard described as lip level. By rote and without emotion, in other words. At those times I try to slow down or pause to reflect on what I’m doing and why to get back in touch with Self.
A major part of my prayer life is chanting mantra. I try to spend more time chanting as time passes. There are a number that I use depending on inclination and need.
I chant anywhere and sometimes a mantra will start chanting itself, surprising me by its arrival
(This photo isn’t me by the way)
Now, probably one of the most important aspects of my own prayer life: I know I’ve mentioned my intentions in praying at all, but one aspect I haven’t mentioned is praying as devotion.
Devotion as in worship, praise, as in gratitude for the beauty in my life, as an expression of love. Knowing with the mind that all is one is fine, but these kinds of prayers help us to cement our awareness of that oneness of all living beings. As I said earlier, I, like you or anyone else, may use particular names and forms to represent this oneness, but, well, it’s all one, so we are non-different from all those names and forms.
Lord Sri Krishna is among my favourite forms of Universal Consciousness (also known as Brahman)
There are many representations of the Divine, but Krishna and this picture of Him are special to me.
Focusing your devotion on a particular form seems to help make it easier or more real. It’s tricky to pray to and with a thing that has no form and is invisible.
So, my friends I hope what I’ve said here is of some little interest to you and that you have found at least something you can use for your own life.
A few days ago I began a new work to study and contemplate in my not quite daily Lectio Divina practice. It’s actually a spiritual classic that, although I’ve read it before, I felt the need to explore a little more, dig a little deeper, rather than simply reading through it as I did the first time.
I haven’t gotten very far in the book; like I say it’s going to be a slower, more reflective process this time (I’m amazed how little I remember as I reread now). A small story the author tells us by way of describing how he’s structured the book, is actually where I’ve left off, so that I can share it with you before I go on with the text and forget!
Abba Arsenius (courtesy Wikipedia)
It concerns Abba Arsenius who was a high ranking Roman official working in the household of the Emperor. Clearly he was looking for a more meaningful, more spiritually oriented lifestyle away from the dogma running people’s lives, politics, the decadence and the rest, because he constantly prayed to God, seeking a way out that would lead him ‘to salvation’. He was wanting badly to be free.
Well, he heard an answer, from deep within his soul:
Flee, be silent and pray always.
So, that’s what he did, fleeing first obviously. I don’t know the rest of his story. I mean I could look him up, but for our purposes here today, all we need to know is that he took off secretly to Egypt and went to live alone in the desert.
Nouwen believes:
“The words flee, be silent and pray summarize the spirituality of the desert. They indicate the three ways of preventing the world from shaping us in its image and are thus the three ways to life in the Spirit.”
Flee. It’s quite a strong word isn’t it? On the face of it, it simply means run away or escape. But it seems to suggest something more urgent, as if the one doing the fleeing needs to get away as quickly as possible; sticking around could be (or actually is) dangerous.
And that, as I said, is where I stopped to think. Sorry, I mean contemplate. I was so struck by the concept: in its essence, it is exactly the life I am attempting to live. Anyway, since reading it I’ve been thinking a lot about the three imperatives given to Arsenius in that very succinct answer he received to his question.
In fact, looking the word up just now I see that some slang terms for flee are: bolt, scram, schedaddle, or get the heck of out Dodge (or in the case of Arsenius, Rome). Let’s just say, to flee means to run away as quickly as you can, to escape imminent danger of some kind, real or metaphorical.
I read once of a woman who had the debilitating Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. In an attempt to recover and heal, she moved to a remote cottage in a tiny town ‘in the middle of nowhere’. Why such a drastic move? Surely if she is ill she should stay near to doctors and other resources?
Well, for her being in a city was the problem. Noise, crowds, pollution, pressure to conform and consume, interaction on so many levels all the time with other people, trying to meet daily needs in a complex, crowded and hectic environment was precisely what was making her ill.
Not to mention the effects on mental health that living in such conditions has on a lot of people, and I think we can all relate to some degree to this idea. We’ve all felt sometimes (or even very often) how we would like to just get away from it all.
For me it was about the gross materialism, the lack of ethical and moral thinking in the running of businesses, governments, and the rest; I longed also for a deeper connection with what one might call the sacred; more time and space for contemplation and just a simpler, slower, less rushed, less complex life.
Now, I hear you saying: ‘not everyone can or should just give up everything and take off to live in a cave’. (or desert, wherever). And you are right, of course. In fact, we can say the cave is a metaphor for all sorts of spaces one might feel drawn to when fleeing and seeking separation from the world. Actually, we’ll be talking more about this later when we get to the be silent bit.
For these Hermit Pilgrims ‘fleeing from the world’ has meant a nomadic lifestyle, few possessions and material needs, a hermit life where our engagement or entanglement with the world is kept to a minimum, and in which we feel less of a pressure to conform, to ‘be shaped’ by the world around us’).
The reality is of course, at the end of the day for most of us and for most of our lives we have to make money to feed and clothe ourselves and our families. And for that we need to work. And in order to work we need a house to live in, and to have a house to live in we (perhaps) have to get a mortgage, and to get a mortgage … . Well I guess you get the point.
But, for a moment ask yourself: What would it look like for me to ‘flee’? For each person it’s going to take on its own unique meaning. I suppose the easiest way to put it is to say that fleeing for all of us essentially means laying aside those things (or people, places, behaviours) that we look at as ‘dangerous’ , ‘bad for us’, or from which we constantly feel the need to escape. Sometimes they’re little things, sometimes more serious.
It might be that we’ve taken on too many social media ‘obligations’ that are swallowing up any precious spare moments we have, that we’d like to be free of. Or it could be our compulsion for bringing our work home that we are desperate to give up (the bringing work home, though of course it might be the job too), so we can actually make some more free moments.
Perhaps it’s our drive to ‘know what’s going on’ by watching the news every night that’s doing our head in. These are some of the so-called minor things that we know are shaping who we are, and often against our own wishes too. Now I think about it, maybe none of it’s ‘minor’ after all.
Oh dear, I’ve done it again: word count is very nearly 1000. Too many words is another thing people try to flee from: we’re flooded, overwhelmed by words. And as much as I personally love words, I get the point and I will leave our contemplation on what was actually a message of very few words, till the next post.
Notes from the Hermit's Cave 