An Aspiration. A Prayer

Hello friends and welcome

The last couple of posts have had me thinking about what I actually do to contribute to the world, to life, to making changes that could bring peace, a safe environment, and a better life for all.

I have to say my commitment to my life as a hermit, as a pilgrim aspiring to live a life apart from ‘the world’ all the while dedicating myself to what we might call Self or God Realisation, has been strengthened.

I have once again come to the conclusion that living a life focused on spiritual development, on art, on prayer, and on contemplation, is the most valuable way I personally can contribute to change, to love, to the good of all. My true nature, my inclinations, my faith, my life experience, all these equip me for this life that has chosen me.

And at the same time, these same factors have left me ill-equipped for life ‘in the world’

In those last two posts, I talked about how so few of us think we have anything to offer a world teetering on the edge. But of course, as I pointed out, the opposite is true. I think I made the point that there is some unique role for each and every one of us in the continued unfolding, upliftment, protection and prospering of all life in this world.

Having said all that, I have to say that for me it’s not always easy to actually realise this in my heart. Intellectually it’s an easy concept to explain (well sort of anyway), but on that deeper heart level, well it’s tricky. Guilt rears its ugly head: ‘It’s all falling apart; I have to do more; But what can I do? It’s useless. I’m useless’.

As I mentioned in one of those posts I think, people have turned away from the horror, injustice, cruelty, and murderous greed and lust for power, for as long as these things have existed – which is obviously for as long as our species has been around. At certain times in history this move away from ‘the world’ has accelerated and intensified. And we are living in one of those periods now.

In the last century so many people have taken up the contemplative life, and many have chosen to make that life one of complete or partial solitude in order that they may be free from distraction in their prayer, study, and contemplative life.

But, many will say, ‘You are in denial. Now is the time you are needed out there. The world and all of life is in danger. You can’t escape and hide in a cave’.(read here stop watching the news, ignore politics, stop spending, become a literal or metaphorical hermit, go traveling, shirk your responsibility to the rest of the world).

Again guilt trips us up and we just keep on trying to find ways to at least rid ourselves of the guilt over our perception that we can do nothing.

But many such people, and that includes me, rather than being in denial, rather than shirking responsibility, have looked at the material world with its horrors, and said, ‘This isn’t right’, and have started to look at other ways to live and, seeing that continuing to struggle against the weight of the world on the world’s terms is pointless, seek to find other ways they can contribute to change. Ways that don’t perpetuate the playing of the game.

And rather than escaping these people (including me, I say with humility) face the world head on, dedicating their lives to the world through creativity, through prayer and meditation, and through the expression of freedom in their choice of lifestyle. They are, as Mahatma Gandhi is supposed to have said, being the change they want to see in the world.

While Gandhiji didn’t actually say those words, (Actually there’s a post coming in a couple of weeks in which I share the full text this quote is apparently derived from. Stay tuned for the link here), he certainly lived his life being the change he wanted to see.

But sadly, this ‘quote’ has come to be seen as a kind of feel good cliché, something the privileged are accused of mouthing while not actually even thinking about changing their lives. Just one more platitude you might say.

But for many, like me in my own way, it is much more: it is a call to action, a respectful and heartfelt request that I embark upon the quest for a more authentic way of living that has love, compassion, service, and truth at the centre of all I do.

This is my aspiration. This is my prayer.

Peace from me to you

Put Me in My Place. Please

Reverence the place and learn from what you see


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peace to you from me

A Little Blogging Balance is Called For

Hello and welcome

In yesterday’s post I made mention of how Notes from the Hermit’s Cave is a month and ‘a bit’ old now. I thought when I typed that, ah yes, so it is; I don’t think I’d given a lot of thought to details like that.

So, first things first: Thank you for being there at the other end of all this, and for joining me on this new venture. Adventure really.

Anyway, as you could tell if you read that post, I just kept on typing with hopefully something reasonable coming out at the end!

Later when I told a wise one I know about that realisation, this person said to me:

‘Are you sure you’re getting enough new imput to keep coming up with new ideas for more writing?’

Good question. Wasn’t yesterday’s post about precisely the issue of an idea that wouldn’t (or maybe couldn’t) evolve into a post? But, wait, not having any ideas isn’t a problem is it? Or is it? So, what’s ‘enough new imput’?

So now I had two pieces of information that had me thinking: the running out of ideas is a possibility; having ideas that won’t or don’t work is a certainty. Together these bits of information came together to form a little bit of knowledge.

That’s how it’s supposed to work: we gather information, then we turn that information into knowledge. The trouble happens when we are overloaded with too much information and can’t sort out any of it to form anything like coherent knowledge.

Anyway, here am I getting distracted! What I was about to say was that the knowledge which came from those three pieces of information, was:

There’s a potential for ideas to run dry, but the other problem is that just because there are ideas apparently available now, doesn’t mean they are any good, or can be used, want to be used, or for a myriad of other reasons, I can’t connect with them. Either way, I am definitely going to need some new, perhaps different imput

What to do? Now, this is where the formation of wisdom comes into the picture: first there were seemingly random bits of information, which then came together to form a little parcel, nugget, insight (what do you call a piece of knowledge?). Some knowledge.

As we all know, simply gathering information, even if we somehow are able to turn that information into knowledge, is no guarantee that wisdom will follow.

However in this particular instance, wisdom did emerge. After some thinking, and some not thinking, I thought, I know: I’ll have a couple of days off. No posts. No blog (except to answer people who reach out to me obviously) stuff at all.

Ah wisdom. So simple really when you look at it isn’t it? I’ll just have a couple of days without thinking about, or looking at Notes from the Hermit’s Cave. So, what will I do instead? Well it’s not as if my time isn’t rather (very rewardingly) full with the other practices incumbent upon me as a hermit and a pilgrim. And a monk.

Still, I thought, I could use a bit more time just sitting still. You know: being quiet, eyes closed, not doing anything. Then, I’ve been a bit light on listening to music this last little while. And not listening to enough music is enough to cause trouble with anybody’s creative self isn’t it?

So, decision made. More time sitting and being. In silence so the inner mind is open to receive new ideas, to process existing ones, and to well, just be quiet. And some more music. Doesn’t matter what it is {well to a point it doesn’t): ideas come from and because of music.

Perhaps by this point, it has occured to you as it has to me, that there is an irony at work here. Here I am writing a blog post on the very first day of a couple of days off from writing blog posts. Okay, I get it. Time off starts … now!
No-post weekend starts … now!

Alright, I can’t make any promises; The creative spirit arises when it does; my heart opens when it does. Besides, as that same wise one said to me by way of an injunction on how to approach everything and anything:

No overthinking

PS I was just thinking, there’s a book I’ve been meaning to get to for weeks now, so … Never mind

Buddhism’s Three Refuges: They’re for Everyone

Greetings and Welcome

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

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

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

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

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

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

I take refuge in the Buddha.

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

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


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

I take refuge in the Dharma.

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

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

I take refuge in the Sangha.

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

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

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

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

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

Peace to you from me

Food & Drink of the Gods

Namaste and Welcome friends

An idea that’s kept its hold on me for a while now concerns Black Tea and Dry Toast. It’s a part of my almost daily diet, and I’ve wanted to write about it. Anyway, here’s the note I first jotted down when the idea first came:

Black Tea and Dry Toast – In Reality is what we might call the food and drink of the Gods, of liberation, especially when I remember to offer it to Brahman and it becomes Prasada: simple, appetising, comforting, nourishing.
         What else?

Yes, sounds kind of weird, writing about such an apparently mundane subject. But, really, I  can say it definitely is for me the food and drink of the Gods. And as such, it moves beyond the little r reality of worldly food, of mundane considerations. It takes on the big R of Transcendental Reality.

Simple, plain food and drink. Pared down from all the extras and the padding, all the ‘additives’ we generally ply ourselves with. In a real sense this simplicity is in keeping with the uncluttered, minimal life I am called to live.

And everyone knows how comforting tea and toast is, how welcome it is pretty much any time of the day or night. Nourishing, too, for the spirit and the mind.

Actually for the body also. At least it is for me as a person who used to eat way too many biscuits, and take jam (thickly) on my toast. As I say, simple with no additives.

All of this equals in my view liberation. Freedom. Freedom at least sometimes, from harmful substances; Liberation from complicated preparations and the stresses and tedium that comes with it.

Black Tea and Dry Toast represents a snack (sometimes even a small meal) that at least for a short time can liberate us from stresses and tiredness. At other times, it gives us that freedom that comes from indulging in simple pleasures.

The food and drink of the Gods is not a complicated, invented and dressed up thing. It is plain, simple, comforting, nourishing.

And yummy.

PS Okay. That photo stuck in the middle up there isn’t quite in keeping with the topic is it? Alright, I admit it: Sometimes I really indulge myself and add banana to my toast. And yes, sometimes apples and oranges too

Mother Mary Come to Me

Namaste friends

During the early days of the pandemic, I lived in a small town out on the edge of the Outback. But after a few months, the time felt right to head for the coast. Slowly. With that in mind and headed in the right direction, I spent six weeks in another small town in that semiarid zone, staying in a motel.

I liked it there, at the Maria Motel in Moree. Described as a low-key 1960s era motel, the Maria is right across the street from the Artesian Hot Pools, which are Moree’s claim to fame. For me (for us), it was another temporary hermitage and safe haven on the side of the road in which to take shelter for a while.

My favourite among the list of things I like about the Maria Motel is the statue of Mary out front in the courtyard. The Virgin Mary that is, Our Lady, the mother of Jesus. You know who I mean. And it isn’t only my Catholic upbringing and education that accounts for my fondness of Mary. It is more about what she symbolizes, what she stands for.

Watercolour by Pauline

For me Mary represents what I might call the feminine aspect of God. Some would call her the Earth Goddess. Mary is the mother, as in Mother Earth, Mother Nature. She is the feminine principle of the Universe. Respect and care for the mother is obviously the key to our survival.

This land from which this town was carved, has been inhabited since long before we began to mark time; since the beginning some say.

Those hot pools have been sacred for a very very long time. While nobody asked permission of the people who already lived here to build a town, at least when some of the invaders came they chose to honour the sacredness of the land they had appropriated by placing this statue representing the sacred feminine in sight of those ancient holy waters, and naming that temporary hermitage of mine, the Maria Motel.

Seeking Justice: Commitments

This morning I was just sitting, or at least trying to just sit. You know, being quiet, relaxing the mind. All that kind of thing. And of course, an idea sprung into that not so cooperative mind, so I grabbed my notebook. Just as I went to put this latest brainwave on paper I noticed a very extraordinary note I must have made I don’t know when:

I’ve just looked it up: It’s a slight paraphrase of a verse from the Old Testament, from the prophet Micah. Where I read it, I can’t say (the note is at least several weeks old). But to quote another little note from some unknown source, I always like to:

Let the noble thoughts come to me from all corners of the universe.

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I’m just like everyone else, always wanting the easy solutions and you can tell that can’t you? ‘How to live the good life? Simple!’. I mean really; hardly humble in my approach in that note was I? Well, let’s talk about what Micah says, not my own lack of humility.

Seek justice; practise kindness; and walk humbly with [your] God.

There are numerous versions online of this verse (Micah, 6:8), so I will leave it to you to check those out for yourself. I’ve added the word your because all those versions do say ‘your God’. But even in this paraphrase it’s easy to see there is nothing at all simple about any of these injunctions.

I discovered that this verse is often invoked in times of grave injustice, or crisis. I think it goes without saying that we would be hard pressed to think of a time that was not a time of grave injustice or crisis. Certainly, we are living in one of those times of injustice and crisis.

There’s no need to or purpose served by getting into how ‘grave’ injustice is now compared to some other time; there’s no need or point to weighing up the relative severity of one crisis versus another. Injustice is injustice; a crisis is a crisis.

In other words, the present is always the time to heed the injunctions of this verse.

So, what do we do if we are to seek justice? Running the risk of sounding flippant, I would say that there are as many answers to this question as there are people to answer it. Now, you would think this would make the task impossible; too many cooks and all that. But actually it’s perfect. Why? Because it means that whoever you are, whatever your situation, you can actively seek justice.

Or, I am sorry: I should say I, me. Not you. I can actively seek justice. But, you say, you are a hermit; you live in a cave (not literally but I know what you mean); you hardly ever even talk to people in ‘real life’. Yes, all true. And I would say that the action I take is by no means at the level I know I want it to be. I’m doing nowhere enough.

Does that mean I’m leaving the cave? Going out into the world, onto the streets to join other brave souls seeking justice? Believe me, I ask myself such questions constantly. But to speak truth to you now, I will say that I know absolutely, in my heart, that my role is something different.

If anything, I need to go deeper into the cave; I need to go deeper into the inner world of my own Self. I know that in this way I will join with so many others in what I’ve come to call the Invisible Community of people all over the world living lives of contemplation and prayer. Or, speaking for me personally, trying to live a life of contemplation and prayer.

By so doing I am at least in a tiny way supporting those millions of others out there on the streets, in the aid groups, running campaigns, writing letters, helping the victims of injustice, in all kinds of miraculous, brave, and innovative ways.

So that’s my commitment to you. To deepen my prayer; to intensify my contemplation; to more fully realise my union with all living beings; and to really join with the invisible community in its efforts.

And, you ask, this blog? What’s it about then? Well, notes, musings, thoughts and reflections all aimed at reminding me of my responsibilities. And hopefully along the way, solidifying my union with you and the rest of creation, just a bit.

Peace and love

PS I haven’t forgotten ‘practise kindness’ or ‘walk humbly with your God’. Maybe another time.

With These Words … Part 5

Well my friends, here we are at Part 5 of my little mini series. As it happens, it’s also the final part.

It’s been a fascinating trip, this little journey we’ve shared. Reflecting on the set of vows usually made by nuns and monks, and how my way of living fits with these undertakings. How well do I live these vows? As a philosophy directing my life, do they work?

Let’s get on shall we? The final vow is Presence, which is the new interpretation on the vow of Stability taken when a person makes a life commitment to a particular place and or community. Obviously for one who moves as much as I do, presence is probably the appropriate concept to take its place

Presence

Just now I was thinking that by far the easiest of the topics we’re looking at here, is Presence. Yet at the same time it is the absolute hardest to write about – even worse to think about.

Why easy? Well, because in a very real sense there is nothing we can say about presence or the present. Of course I could spend the rest of my life reading books, studying, and even writing about it myself; how to live here and now. But all the time the obvious would be staring me in the face.

How can we be anything but present? How is it possible to be anywhere but here? And surely it’s always now? A thing called ‘the past’ doesn’t exist except in memory, and the future? Well, where is it? it doesn’t exist. Never will. I know it’s kind of common to hear things like ‘We’re living in the future’, but are we really? Of course not. So, end of story right there I guess.

Except that it’s not, is it? This is where it gets to be the hardest topic to talk about. It seems none of us – us humans anyway – can get our heads around the aforesaid obvious fact of life: we are always here, and it is always now. Why is this so?

Well, speaking only for myself, you understand, I think about it too much. I seem to have convinced myself (courtesy of my ever-busy mind) that there is a way to learn to be present; a how to guide, that I can read or invent myself that will finally allow me to put myself into the present, in the here and now.

And all Along I am sitting here, thinking and writing about how to be present or put another way, how to sit in this spot right now.Do you see where this is going? If I’m not here and it isn’t now, then where am I? And when is it?

Sorry, but I have no answers. Even asking the questions is denying the obvious: I am here, it is now. The trouble is my mind isn’t at all ever content and happy with the present, regardless of how I might feel about it.

In that case, can I say that in my way of living I am committed to presence? To be in the present? Well, speaking for me personally – whoever that me is – perhaps the better question might be: Do I fully realise that I can only be here and now because that’s all there is?

To that I would have to say definitely not. My mind is continually on the run between the deep past and the unreal and unknowable future and all points in between. And my mind loves repeat journeys too!

So how do I intend to come to that place of the realisation of presence? Well, before we go on, you can’t actually intend to be present. Intention is about …

Enough!!!! Enough mind stuff. Please

The truth is, there is nothing for me to DO. I am here; it is now. That’s all there is.

Except one more thing to do: I just have to wake up

See the Tenderness

Over the years I’ve tried many types of meditation. But I always come back to the same method. I call it The Third Eye technique.

Once I’ve settled quietly, perhaps having taken a few deep breaths to relax a little, I bring my awareness to the centre of my forehead, the spot between my eyes. Traditionally, this is where the Third – or spiritual – eye is located.

(Actually that particular spot is in line with the Pineal gland  which is located in the centre of the brain between the hemispheres, and its function is to help regulate sleep patterns.)

And then? Well, I know I’m not alone when I say that, no matter how hard I try, it seems a lot of the time nothing happens. Well, thoughts happen. Anxieties and memories intrude their pesky (and sometimes ugly) presence. So much for emptying the mind and having transcendental experiences.

Well, in fact despite evidence to the contrary, I – along with all of you who ‘try to meditate’ – do sometimes achieve a state of no thought, of total quiet. The problem is, of course, in a state where there is no thought it’s impossible to think: ‘Hey, I’m having no thoughts.’

As for the (rare) transcendent experience referred to: on those occasions something other than a thought, memory, anxiety, comes up; something that transcends those mundane ‘normal’ things.

See the tenderness. See the tenderness. See the tenderness.

These words seemed to come right after I’d thought for the millionth time ‘nothing’s happening’ while I tried to meditate one day a while ago.

Not spoken by a voice exactly, yet heard with my internal or mental ear. Clear and distinct; the same fully formed injunction repeated three times.

But, see the tenderness? I’m not sure where these words came from. The truth is I am a gentle person by nature; I am not naturally ‘tough’ or ‘aggressive’ or anything like that. But it’s also true that I’ve been all those things over long periods of my life. Nature vs nurture you see.

Anyway, what tenderness? Where? Does it refer to the tenderness that exists in the world?

Perhaps it’s to do with what I am supposed to be reading or otherwise taking in? Books, movies, and other story sources that speak of tender things and people?

Or might it be an injunction for me to redouble my efforts to turn away from the wold? To turn away from the horrors and the nastiness of Maya or the material and essentially illusory world?

And by this turning away from the world, perhaps tenderness is to be found and seen in a turning to the interior world, in the spaces of contemplation within Self.

This injunction (repeated emphatically three times. Sorry I already said that didn’t I?) does seem to have come from some part of my Self that longs for a gentler way to be, for a more tender way to relate to others and to Self.

Ideas and questions to contemplate and to reflect upon. Meanwhile, it’s a good start to know that even if my mind tells me otherwise, when I meditate, something is happening. Sometimes.

Peace

I Think, Therefore I Suffer. Sometimes

Welcome

Let me share with you some random thoughts that came up as I sat to meditate one recent morning. As I settled, a thought struck me.

One among many of course, but this one got my attention. It went something like this:

‘I am where I’m at today because of the life I’ve lived: my choices to travel, my continual need for change and variety. And not to forget the impacts of my health on decisions over the years.’

It was a bad feeling coming on as you can tell.

So, I guess (the thoughts kept coming) I’ve had the fun and adventure and now’s the time to pay the price.

This particular thought train is an antique I’ve been run down by many times. And the way it going this time was downhill fast; it was one of those ‘poor me, what a horrible life I’ve got’ trips. Then, the next thoughts were a bit more truthful:

I live with my life partner and soulmate in a Pacific Coast town, literally five minutes walk to a spectacular beach and some special coastal scenery. The town isn’t too big, and not too small: it has everything we need without the crowds, traffic, noise, pollution, shopping malls, and other paraphernalia that goes with a materialism gone mad.

We live in a very comfortable small house in a Subtropical paradise of a holiday park resort flanked by a beautiful creek and forest. Every day we get to see and watch nicely many species of birds.

Each night literally hundreds of bats fly over on their way to feed, and very often we get to see wild kangaroos up close. Not to mention the lizards, ranging from tiny Geckos to metre long beauties.

It’s true: I did make that mental list. No, I thought, this is no price I have to suffer to pay for past decisions and actions. These are gifts I’ve been granted. Oh, did I mention that I get to pretty much spend all day every day doing more or less exactly what I want or feel lead to do?

This was one time when I was able to divert that ‘poor me look how I’m suffering’ thought train, and let the ‘I’m really and truly blessed’ express to roll on through.

Peace and love to you all from me