Tag Archives: Hermit Pilgrim

DAYS OF AMSTERDAM CHANTING: A POEM FROM A CHANT SHARED

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Reading the other day about the deeper meanings of the word Amen, a memory surfaced.

A memory from the summer of 1971. I was seventeen years old; young yes. I was hitchhiking around Europe, and as for this memory in particular, I was sitting day by day in the Dam Square in Amsterdam.

The memory of which we are speaking involves chanting. One day (or it could have been more), chanting, along with dozens, perhaps hundreds of hippies, freaks, travellers from all over the world, assorted tourists and locals.
Chanting Amen. Just like Sidney Poitier sings in Lilies of the Field. Minus all the verses; we chanted the chorus only. Amen. To help get the vibe, just go here.

Anyway, it was a nice memory, a memory of a day (and more) of music in a time of exploration, on the road and trying to be free.

More that that though: experiencing the memory gave me the feeling that that day, in the Square, had included at least a moment of devotion.

Sure, it was likely just one more tune among many sung during those times, but as I think about it now, I sense a distinct vibe of devotion and praise. I recall a sense of a kind of rejoicing in the word itself – Amen.

Anyway, here is the resulting poem. Do look up the chant; and do please join in, add your voice – your own distinct vibration – to the gathered voices.

Amen

DAYS OF AMSTERDAM CHANTING

Once upon a time
I hitchhiked to Holland.
Another mad attempted escape,
trying to leave the madness behind.
Amen.

Crashing in the park in the night,
beneath a bridge – when it rained,
behind the bushes – when it didn’t.
Amen.

Squatting in the Square in the day.
Sometimes singing days.
Dozens of hippies, freaks,
travellers, and even a few tourists and locals.
Amen.

Many memories of those days remain. Like this one:
I was 17, you see, in those days, squatting in the Square –    Dam Square.
Music in all directions. Truly surround sound.
Guitars, bongos, reedy things like flutes and whistles,
even a trumpet I can recall.
Amen.

Then, a chant erupts, and soon engulfs the gathered.
Amen … Amen … Amen, Amen, Amen.

And, now, I’ve joined the chanting,
maracas shaking held high, as if in exalted devotion,
as I sway to vibration overwhelming.
Amen.

This entrancing word, this creative vibration,
how long did it linger, permeating
the very air I was breathing?
Amen.

Memory informs: it was hours.
That is to say, it was eternal – or was it a mere moment? Same.
Of course, Amen – Om – the vibration of creation
was never born, is never changing, always existent.
Amen.

Always creating. Always dissolving.
Then again creating.
Making manifest that which was unmanifest.
Amen.

Or, is it a sound and light show?
Amen, the word, the vibration, the sound
shining a light on what is there already?
And what is there already,
is all there is.
Amen Amen Amen

Poetics & Photographs: Shared Note

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Namaste and greetings

Another poetic and photographic note to share with you today. In the last month or so I’ve written two poems which are about angels. And both connected in some way with rain, or at least impending rain in one and actual rain in the other.

Initially I thought to just include the most recent of the two, but as I put my fingers on the keyboard it just seems to be emerging that I shall share both with you. And as you know I’m not one to ignore the demands of what types me!

Anyway, I offer them to your for your reading pleasure and perhaps cause for contemplation. Last shall be first in this matter I think. Enjoy please!

Angels, they are everywhere.
Perhaps there are more than we know?
Personifications of love, of compassion.
Of charity too.

ON THE TEARS OF ANGELS

Is it good that angels cry?
Anyway, why do they cry at all?

To wash away all the sorrows,
to cleanse, to purify, to make new.
And to ease the world’s pain.

Then, there are those of us
who can’t conceive of ourselves
as angels.

For those ones – each and every one – the tears of angels
are cathartic; granting catharsis.

A CLOUD ANGEL SEEN

An angel wing
seen in a cloud, ephemeral, gossamer.
And the angel?
She stands concealed within the silver linings of clouds, neighbouring clouds,
heralding a soon to be descending deluge.

When One Word is Actually Two & Becomes One Again

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Same Sun Another time & place

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

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

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

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

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

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

No quibbling.

Bright Lights on the Dunefields

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Namaste and Welcome friends.

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

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

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

Please enjoy.

Love from Paul the Hermit

BRIGHT LIGHTS IN THE DUNEFIELDS


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

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

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

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

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

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

We are all bright lights in the dunefields.

Details in the Dunefields

On a Pilgrim’s Way

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s a walk to take,

a pilgrimage to make.

Sometime soon.

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

Peace!

As Promised: A Prayer of Praise and Gratitude to Trees

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Prayer of Praise & Gratitude to Trees

Dear Aranyani

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

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

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

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

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

Om Aranyani Namah

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

Sacred Strings, Sacred Tree

Follow the Way of Love

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

            Swami Tadatmananda

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thank you and my love to you

Happiness, Freedom & Other Joys VS Anger, Depression & Other Sufferings

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Frustrated, depressed, annoyed, and even angry at times. All because I know for certain sure that it’s God’s will that I write more – as in more often, more volume, and more quality too. And I’ve vowed to do God’s will in all things to the best of my ability.

No, actually those extremely un-monklike emotional reactions are not because of this knowledge of the will of the Universe or my vow to obey; I have those unhappy emotions because of the other vow I’ve yet to mention: I have vowed to find ways to content myself with how the universe unfolds for my life, and for the world.

I’m not saying that I have promised to resign myself to ‘fate’ or ‘destiny’ or whatever one might call it. No. And it’s a big no because while what happens in the material world is working out according to the laws of nature, it’s equally true that I am in that mix: I have my part to play in the universal scheme of things, just like we all do. It’s a matter of I do my bit, and the Universe (or God) does its bit.

And then it struck me. Blew my mind is more like it. All my frustration, depression, anger, and whatever, over not writing to my own desired level, is really nothing more than a raging against God’s will. Needless to say, this reaction is really quite a distance from obedience!

Another thought on the topic of God’s will – the laws of nature and the natural order of the Universe: By obvious definition those laws and order must (obviously again) apply to all things in what we call the Cosmos or Universe.

All material things, such as bodies, as well as non-material things like minds, emotions and the like. You name it; All there is is bound by the same set of natural laws.

So, speaking for myself alone, not being able to write to my expected or desired for level is only one – and quite a minor one it has to be said – of numerous areas in my life and the world that cause me frustration and all the rest, as I struggle to to be content with the will of the Universe.

Too big a topic, or should I say too many topics to get into here. In any case, shall we set aside that not so little aside for now?

So, where were we? Right: Raging against God’s will; resisting the ways in which the natural laws of the universe are working themselves out. Sounds terrible when you see it  writen down like that doesn’t it?

Anyway, it’s clear to me that the Universe , the will of God, is trying to say something to me, which sounds something like this:

‘Look you may very well want to write, you might even be desperate to get those words and ideas out of your head and onto the page, but that’s just not the way things are right now is it?

‘Of course the smooth running of the Universe involves you, and in a big big way too, but you are still just one element in what is really quite a complex, not to mention gigantic, system.’ Nature can put you in your place for sure sometimes.

‘In fact it might be,’ this spokesperson for the Universal order continued, ‘that the Universe is trying to get a none too subtle message across to you? Do you think that desperately clinging to some outcome you want or desire that strongly but can’t seem to get, is causing you pain? Of course it is. Anger, depression, all those sad and negative emotions, they are just not necessary.’

The Universe (in its manifestation as my discursive mind) can be very vocal sometimes, but I think I sort of get it.
Essentially what that Universal spokesperson is saying is that the order of the Universe is working out just as it’s supposed to. Actually it can’t do otherwise. I play my part (which according to the spokesperson is bigger than I imagine), and really that’s all there is to it.

In other words, If I’m not writing, then that is precisely what is supposed to be happening (or not happening) right now. And not only that, but because I am an active participant in the way the Universe looks and behaves right now, then it’s also pretty obvious that I already know – deep down somewhere – that it’s really alright. It’s all just as it’s meant to be.

Once again speaking just for myself, I find it quite tricky finding the balance between what part I am to play, and what’s the Universe’s bit, in controlling the direction my life takes or in affecting the conditions that impact me.

Perhaps the best way, indeed it might be the only way, to have a positive impact on my own happiness, peace, contentment, and having a calm mind, is to give up any desires for things that won’t contribute to my spiritual and personal growth or the wellbeing of other beings, while at the same time acting upon without attachment to the outcomes, those desires that seem to me to be for the good of all, including Self. 

Being attached – driven by compulsions or aversion – to the outcome of our desires, however, simply leads to more desires even when fulfilled.  And when they are not fullfilled, there is suffering due to clinging to those compulsions.

Bottom line? I am seriously attached to my desire to write more (as well as so many other things as I alluded to earlier), that not being able to do that right now is causing a lot of suffering. Enough of that I say! Oh, that balance thing: it’s about discernment isn’t it? Okay I get it, story for another day.

PS I’m so glad I got that all out of my head and onto the page. Thanks for listening friends.

Just Another Day at The Office

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Who am I to even contemplate composing a commentary on the Bhagavad Gita (BG) after only seven or eight years of study, some formal with a teacher and some more casual alone?

Well, what I am is nowhere near qualified, nowhere near ready. Actually I don’t feel qualified in any way for such a thing. So much less so was I when I first sat down with my newly gifted BG in a tiny cafe called The Office in Rishikesh, literally hanging over the river Ganges.

A Saddhu or Holy man and his phone at The Office

With the best fruit salad in the Universe, and fine chai to match, it was the ideal place for contemplation – that is when it wasn’t bursting at the seams and crazy.

But, as I sat there with my new BG I was one of only a couple of customers, so it was a conducive atmosphere for the aforementioned contemplation. Instead I think what happened as I thought about how to proceed to a proper study, was I allowed the sugar from the just ingested fruit salad go to my head.

You see, I decided, as I sipped a post-fruit salad chai, that the perfect study method would be to write a commentary on the whole thing starting with Chapter one, Verse one.

I no longer possess the diary in which this masterpiece was begun. Nor do I recall much, actually nothing, of what I wrote. It’s enough to say however that nothing I wrote could possibly have had any significance or depth or proper perspective.

So, as you might guess, I rambled and waffled for a couple of verses before I snapped out of my ego-driven state of arrogance and hubris. I realised I had absolutely no business taking on such a task. My lack of knowledge, wisdom, experience, all disqualified me from even thinking I had a right to try.

Now, even with the small amount of knowledge I have managed to acquire after all the study, I’m stunned at that arrogance and hubris – even if it was sugar induced. I mean, I’d never even read more than a few verses of the BG before. So, how could I even form a ‘first impression’ or ‘casual opinion’, much less a full blown commentary?

A couple of days ago I read a couple of verses that really resonated with me, as they have before. So, just like that fool sitting in The Office all those years ago, I confidently asserted that I was more than up to the job of making a commentary on those verses for this blog.

But, and here’s the really weird thing: I only just now realised, as I’ve been writing these notes, that the two verses which I will quote for you shortly, address precisely my behaviour on that post fruit salad, sugar shock induced ego trip.

I realised that it’s as if I have indeed written a commentary on those verses. And I have used a personal experience to illustrate the text. Absolutely unintentionally as it happens.

Regardless of what excuse I come up with the error in judgement in thinking I could write a full blown BG commentary all those years ago, the reality is that I failed to act with discrimination, or what I would call discernment.

In the high holy lands wrong thinking can still happen

Somehow I ignored (or totally forgot) the facts: I knew nothing! I’d lost the ability to discern what I could do and what I couldn’t do, what was a sensible action and what was a ridiculous one.

Stop! Memo to Self: Please stop picking on me!

Anyway, moving right along, here are the verses – free from commentary!

‘Thinking about sense objects brings an attachment towards them. Attachment leads to desire and desire leads to frustration, which in turn leads to delusion.
When you are deluded you lose your memory [the knowledge and experiences you could draw on to make proper decisions; sometime even to the extent of compromising your own values] and with the loss of memory the power of discrimination is destroyed; with the destruction of discrimination your self itself is lost’ .

Bhagavad Gita Chapter 2 Verses 62-63 (my version of the BG sometimes combines verses as it has here)

That Which is From the Sea, Shall Return to the Sea

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As I sauntered along the shores of the Ganges River in Rishikesh several years ago, I was given a gift.

In the High Holy Lands Where Magic Sometimes Happens

As I ambled, headed upstream in a relaxed kind of mood on that sandy riverbank, I happened to glance down. There, right at my foot I noticed a small shell. Flat with the stereotypical fan shape so many shells have, and a about a centimetre  across. I picked it up.

At that moment I sensed that this little shell was a gift from the river to me. Still, I had to wonder how it got there, a seashell on the sandy banks of a freshwater river with it’s source not too far from where I stood, just a bit higher up in the Himalayas – the highest mountain range on the surface of the planet.

One possibility is that this shell originated in the sea that once existed in the lands above, where the Himalayas now stand. Mind you, I’ve only ever heard of the fossils of sea creatures being found in that region.

Another possibility suggested to me at the time, is that some other traveller having picked up the shell on a beach somewhere other on their travels, kept it with them till they arrived at this sacred place.

Then, perhaps as an offering that traveller – fellow pilgrim?- let that shell go into the waters of Maa Ganga.

Of course it doesen’t matter in the least which – if either – of these scenarios  reflect what actually happened. Somehow this little shell travelled from an ocean somewhere (and somewhen!) to this precise spot on the banks of the Ganga to be discovered, to be gifted to me.

I received that offering, now a gift from the river to me, with a deep and prayerful thank you, and a sense of the sacredness of that moment and of that place.

And, today, the journey made by that little shell, has come to a kind of full circle. This morning I released it to Varuna, to the sea here on the Pacific Coast at the beach over the dunes from the hermitage.

That initial giving and receiving  took place about eight years ago now and I have that little shell with me ever since.

First I wore it around my neck attached to a mala (prayer beads) made of Rudraksha seeds I used for chanting mantra.

After that, it migrated to another mala – this one made of beads of black volcanic rock, perhaps very fitting given the little shell’s possibly ancient origins.

Then, one day about a year or so ago, that little shell developed a crack and then shattered into several little pieces.

Still, I treasured those remains, those fragment I kept with my other ‘holy bits and pieces’. Then, after a while, I began to get the sense that I was going to have to return this little shell to the sea from where it had come.

I knew, though, that it would have to be the right place, a place I was drawn or led to. So, time passed, we travelled to several different hermitages for about a year.

Then, two days ago, we moved here. To a cozy hermitage on the side of a sand dune, just across a bridge from and on the outskirts of a little seaside town on the Pacific Coast of Australia.

It’s one of those spots where the elevation, distance, and whatever else by nature’s arrangement, all combine in just the right way to allow a vast view that takes the eyes to the curve of Earth herself; the horizon isn’t flat here, it’s a sweeping giant curve. Add to this the equally dramatic view offered by the dome of the sky.

The coast is beautiful here. Not that it’s not special in so many places, but there is something here that speaks to me.

At the top of the dune just beside the hermitage there is an extremely convenient bench seat overlooking the beauty of the ocean.

And it just felt right: here is the place that seeks the return of the remains of that little shell, by now reduced to a couple of small fragments.

So, after a time sitting and contemplating at the above-mentioned convenient seat, I walked down the dune to the beach, and then to the water’s edge. In a mood of prayer, with the edge of the incoming waves lapping at my feet.

After first consigning to the water a shell native to this shore, to show the way to my little shell, I thought of the journey that little shell and I had undertaken together. Then I thought of how far and for how long that little shell had travelled so far on its own journey.

Then I returned what was left of that little shell to the sea from which it had come. And I watched it carried by the waves returning from the sands of the land to waters of the endless ocean.

PS See the Lava Rock Mala? Well, it too has changed form in recent times. It is now no longer a full length neck mala; it has evolved to become a compact and convenient pocket Mala for what you might say is ‘everyday use.

Things of beauty are, like all things made of

material stuff, transient.

Beauty, however, is not