Tag Archives: sadhanna

One, Without a Second, is All There Is

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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:

It’s not that there is only one God, there is only God.
          Swami Dayananda Saraswati

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.

Flee, Be Silent, Pray Always Part 3

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Namaste and welcome

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.

With peace, love, and with my prayers

Paul

Flee, Be Silent, and Pray Always

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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.

It is The Way of the Heart: The Spirituality of the Desert Fathers and Mothers by Henri Nouwen. It is essentially a sort of guide book for those of us who are looking to live more spiritually oriented lives. And I agree with the author when he suggests that the Desert fathers and mothers are the ultimate examples for us to today, even though they lived several hundred years ago.

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.

Thank you for being here. Peace and love

Paul the Hermit

Illusion, fear and wrong thinking? A good question

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Greetings to you, visitors to the cave

Let me begin this post by asking you a question. No. I’ll start again: I’m going to begin this post by asking me a question. It’s a question prompted by prayers I recite every day, not only during my morning practice, but at random times during the day. Here goes with the question:

How much time do I spend discussing illusion, fear, and wrong thinking?

Well the short answer is, a lot! Despite all my efforts, prayers, meditation, discipline, and the rest, I spend way too much time pondering all kinds of illusions, indulging in an ever revolving range of fears, and thinking about all sorts of ridiculous, irrelevant, and unwanted stuff.

Oh, before I go on, I should mention that there are actually two prayers I’m referring to:

This prayer, which you might call an affirmation comes, I think, from the teachings of the ancient Indian Rishi Adi Shankara. I’ve not been able to track down the exact source. Getting a little ahead of ourselves here, but a perfect example of wrong thinking would be to berate myself for not being more careful with sources.

So, what does it mean to spend time discussing illusion, fear, and wrong thinking? Well, I know I said I was asking myself this question, but I think it would not be out of order to say that we are all prone to spending time on these things.

Discussing is obvious: talking about, thinking about, angsting over, worrying over. Illusion? Anything that isn’t real, stuff that’s ‘make believe’ as the expression goes. Anything that we are imagining for good or bad.

Our illusions are often about worst-case scenarios, or at the other end of the spectrum, they can be about some fantasy, an idealized perfect outcome to a situation. There is a lot written about how we are so very much trapped in illusion; it’s not the place here for that discussion.

Fears: pretty obvious what fears are. I don’t know about you, but I can get to thinking of stuff to be fearful of anytime, anywhere, even things I know I can face without fear. Like a couple of days ago I was walking across a rail and walking bridge near our current hermitage. A long time ago I had huge paralysing fears of high bridges, especially over water as this one is.

But for a long time now I’ve felt I have mastered this fear and then suddenly on this occasion I looked down to the river below and shocked myself with ‘What am I doing?’ type thinking and fear returned. Mind you, it passed quite quickly as I reminded myself I’d walked over this bridge (and many others) a lot of times without a second thought.

And then there are fears about the future, fears of consequences of past actions, fears of not making the right choices now, fears for health, loved ones, the world. Anything goes when it comes to fear doesn’t it?

Ah, now we get to the biggie: wrong thinking. Again I think it’s safe to say that we all spend far too much time in the company of wrong thoughts. And again, they can be about anything, and can pop up to take over our mind without warning.

Consider how often we think about things that are either none of our business, or they are things we can’t do anything about. We obsess over what we see on the news,  or what celeb is doing what and with whom. Think about how interested we often are in what other people are doing, thinking, saying.

Then there’s blindly following fashion, thinking so much about things we don’t have (and how everyone except us has those things already) that we give into advertising, and end up buying lots of stuff we don’t need, maybe can’t afford, and might not ever use. And don’t forget about the one we all fall for: gossiping about others whether they are famous, our family or friends, or simply our neighbours.

A huge case of wrong thinking are the harsh judgements we make on ourselves; and the amount of time we spend thinking about our faults and failings. And don’t forget the other end of the ego spectrum: it’s also wrong thinking to be constantly telling ourselves how great we are.

There are endless examples of wrong thinking. We need to bear in mind Buddha’s central teachings: there is a middle path that can be taken in all things. Well, this maxim applies to thinking as well. Remember that our mind can be our enemy or our friend.

Even enlightened ones such as sages, rishis, saints and the like, fall victim to illusion, fears, and wrong thinking. Of course as they are enlightened, they perhaps are less affected, less inclined to fall to the depths, as the rest of us might.

Of course, there are ways we can put ourselves on the path to that enlightenment. But in truth, it is a subject that is dealt with very adequately by all great scriptures of the world, not to mention the visionaries who have delved deeply into psychology, philosophy, and the human condition.

And this leads me to the second prayer:

This one comes from a song by George Harrison, titled Just for Today. I actually did a post on this song a couple of years ago that you can find here. As well, if you do check out the lyrics of this masterpiece, you will see that my prayer is a rather generous paraphrase. I don’t think George would mind; I hope you don’t either.

Just for Today (the song and, a little less articulately, this, my paraphrased prayer) is a prayer for presence, a plea to be in this place, and in this time. In other words, an affirmation that I (or you) may remember that there is only here, and only now.

But, and it’s a big big but, we need to make of our entire lives a prayer.

Of course that means using the words, but it also requires a whole lot more. Discipline, self-control, deliberate actions (saying prayers is obviously also an action), meditation, silence, contemplation, and to put it simply: good behaviour in all that we do and think.

Now, this prayer inspired by George is a good place to finish. Or rather, it’s a good place to remind ourselves we can’t solve all life’s problems at once.

Being present, being here and now, really says we have no other choice but to live through this day only. Or perhaps we can paraphrase once more and say we have to actually realise what is already true: we can only live through this one, ever-evolving and moving moment.

So, how do we get to that point of spending less time discussing illusion, fears, and wrong thinking? By coming to realise that being in this moment, and in this place, we are already perfectly fine. All we can and need to do is remember that one simple fact. But don’t worry, all you need to do is remember it just for today.

peace and love

Lessons Never Too Late for the Learning

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This morning I completed the penultimate lesson in a course of classes on the Bhagavad Gita. The classes were held once a week for I think 3 or 4 years and finished a few months ago. As it happens the entire course was recorded giving me and so many others the opportunity to study it online.

Anyway, at the start of the lesson today Swamiji ( Swami Tadatmananda, resident teacher at the Arsha Bodha Centre) reminded us that the course will soon be over. I thought (and it was by no means the first time I’ve had this thought): what an achievement; finishing this long and complicated course; fancy me sticking with it till the end.

Second thought, following a nano-second behind: What an odd idea, to think how great I am simply for finishing my study. Especially when it is not in the slightest way true. I’ll be studying the Bhagavad Gita (and I hope many other teachings) for the rest of my life. This period of study has been simply an introduction, a foretaste of what is to come.

Swami Tadatmananda

Having said all that, I have to say that this time of digging deep into the Gita has been a terrific ride. I’d been studying it by myself for a few years, but that’s nothing compared to having a qualified teacher guide me through such an in depth study and contemplation of this great teaching.

While I do know a few of the 800 verses by heart, I understand that this is not ‘ordinary’ knowledge. As the disclaimer goes: it is very much a pointer to the knowledge; the key is to not to confuse the pointer with the very much transcendental knowledge that is to be gained from what the pointer points to.

Probably my favourite verse written
on a little card that I treasure

My partner hermit has been responding to some of my photos when I post them with little Haiku-like writings. Yesterday (or was it the day before?) I said to her:

‘You’ve done 71 so far.’ I was thinking to praise the achievement.

She replied (with much wisdom as always):

‘I don’t count them. One or seventy one, it’s all the same.’ I’m paraphrasing here.

Looks as if I might be only just at the beginning of my lessons.

Peace

All I Had to Do Was Dream

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Last night I had a dream. Of course there’s nothing unusual in that: I dream every night, every time I sleep (and sometimes when I’m supposed to be meditating as well). Actually I’m no different than probably every other living being in the Universe: I dream when I sleep.

No. The particular dream isn’t my point here (though we’ll be discussing it soon enough). What makes it worth noting is the fact that last evening, before going to bed, I watched a documentary on Carl Jung and The Red Book.

Jung compiled The Red Book at a time of personal crisis and distress. Using dream analysis, his own imagination, and intense self reflection, he used both paintings and text to express what he saw and understood from these practices. Hauntingly beautiful, other worldly pictures depicting dream images, archetypes, both personal and universal, helped him delve deeply into his unconscious mind and the collective unconscious.

I gave up trying to interpret dreams a long long time ago. Don’t ask me why: I probably couldn’t say. Most likely something to do with a kind of wariness about going too much into where the mind wants to take me, and my sense that the “dream” doesn’t stop when we wake up.

Still, watching this doco prompted a lot of discussion with my partner hermit, and a lot of thinking on my part. The mind is not our enemy, though sometimes I feel that it is. Well, it can be the enemy if we allow it, but equally we can allow the mind to be our friend. After all, what activity of any kind is possible in the world without mind?

So, with that in mind (get it? in mind?) I will share with you that above mentioned dream from last night.

In the dream I was in a small kitchen, making tea. I’d put on a kettle to boil. A very large, heavy kettle, probably three or four times the size of a normal one. I was in the process of looking for a mug or cup, and just as I picked one up that I liked the look of, a crowd of five or six people came bustling noisily into this very crowded space.

‘I’ve just put the kettle on,’ I called loudly over the din. As it happened I’d filled the kettle almost to overflowing, much more than I needed for myself alone.

‘There’s plenty of boiling water to go round.’

Then I busied myself looking for something (a tea bag perhaps?), and when I finally turned back to the kettle to make my tea, I saw it was gone. I was very unhappy with this disappearance: After all, I was the one who had filled the kettle and put it on to boil. Then without a thought or a, what’s the expression? without a by your leave, it’s all gone, nothing left for me. Not only no more water, but nothing to boil more with.

I looked everywhere, even outside the kitchen. Outside was a camp ground and apartment complex, where I (and presumably all the other people) was staying.

Anyway, that’s it. All I remember at least. So, the meaning? Was I merely processing trivial facts and events from my day in this strange fashion? Or was I in touch with the deepest part of my psyche and with the collective unconscious? Possibly a bit of both.

It’s not a big job to make a guess about the meaning. I had a plentiful supply of water (or whatever), and without thought, put the needs of others before my own. But then, I actively resented what had been ‘taken from me’, even though I had freely given it in the first place.

So, the message I take from this dream? Just as I’ve been studying lately, the fruits of my actions are not my responsibility. I have no say over what, if anything, will happen as a result of actions I take. All I am responsible for is the taking of the action itself, the manner in which I undertake it, and the attitude with which I approach the actions I take. That’s it. That’s all I can do. The rest is up to the laws of the universe. Call it Karma, or Natural Law.

Another idea just occured to me: When I take action (like boiling the kettle) and then serve others, I am serving Self, all life, everyone and everything. And obviously that includes me. I’m not suggesting I should have made sure ahead of time that I’d ‘reserved’ enough water for myself, but at the same time …

I might keep this dream analysis thing as practice to practise occasionally, when the inclination or inspiration is there. No more blocking memories of dreams, no more stubborn refusal to reflect on dreams. After all, I spend a lot of time contemplating and reflecting on what I do in my waking life, how is it any different just because it happens while I’m asleep?

Making Peace with Poetry and a Prayer

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Namaste my friends

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

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

Our Lady Queen of Peace Pray for us.

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

Peace and love to you all.

Peace Prayer

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Best Job in the World

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There are hermits everywhere.

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

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

Holy Wanderer
Detached from all Worldly Entanglements

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Courtesy Wikimedia Commons Thank you

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

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

Courtesy Wikimedia Commons Thank you

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

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

Probably the best gig in the world I would say.

Peace and love

Silence, Solitude: Where can I find it?

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Remain in your cell, and your cell will teach you everything

This piece of advice from one of the early Christian desert hermits to a follower has been going round in my head for ages. And I mean a couple of years at least. I’d read it in several books at the time, and I’ve seen it in a few since.

Of course, most of the writers of those books interpreted this advice at face value, literally advising the student, hermit, monk, or other contemplative person to stay in their physical cell (hut, cave monastery cell, suburban bedroom, wherever is their permanent dwelling) and listen, meditate, study, and contemplate. The advice is, stay in that space in silence and seclusion. Quite possibly forever.

‘But it could be the cell of your Self,’ my partner hermit said to me one time. And yes, I thought, that’s exactly right. I liked the symbolism. The actual literal, physical space and its geographical location isn’t necessarily the important factor. What’s important is that you, the real you is actually fully present wherever you are, right here, right now.

Think about what it really means to be present – to be here now: It means that you can say, ‘This is the only space and the only moment that exists. Right here and right now.’

Living life is an ever-flowing movement or process, and at the same time (excuse the unintended pun) is always occuring in the present. And in that ongoing moment you – your Self -is always there.

Of course along for the ride is your little s self with its ego, chattering and never quiet mind reminding you of the distractions, stresses, anxieties, worries about things to do or not do, memories of the past, and fears for the future. It goes on and on.

But, still, that space within where you can meditate, pray, contemplate quietly, that’s your Self, your ‘cell’.

I’ve always liked and worn hoodies. I guess a lot of people do. For some it’s about fashion; others wear them for warmth in cold weather or to keep the sun off when it’s hot; some people even use them to hide.

Then there are others such as nuns, monks, priests and others too, for whom a hood is a part of the robe they wear as a member of their particular group.

In those cases, a hood is called a cowl and most often it’s a largish loose hood sewn onto the robe or habit. Just like a regular hoodie.

I read somewhere (I forget where) that some groups nickname these cowls ‘cells’. In other words, the wearer carries their cell with them wherever they go.

Of course they don’t always actually wear the hood on their heads, but whenever they wish or need to retreat to their cells, all they have to do is simply pull their hood up and over their head and all of a sudden they are in their own private and solitary world; they are in their cell.

As I said earlier, I like the symbolism. But more than that: I find wearing a hood on my head or simply in standby mode, comforting.

I’m not overly good with crowds, or in close proximity to other people on a bus or train or whatever. I like knowing that just by pulling my hood on, I’m able to create my own space apart from my surroundings. In that space I can feel safe and kind of apart.

Even at home I wear a hood when I’m meditating or praying. It’s just one more opportunity to retreat into my cell, into Self

Peace from the Hermit to you

‘Sometime Soon’: When is it?

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There used to be a thing – maybe it’s still a thing – that would happen sometimes. You’d be talking to someone and suddenly they’d burst out:

‘Hey that rhymes! You’re a poet and don’t know it!’

This exclamation, this sudden and surprising interruption, was always prompted by some sort of accidental rhyming happening in something you’d said.

Or, sometimes, it even happened when you had written something and had through no fault or thought on your part, created a rhyme, even a little impromptu and accidental poem.

Well, that’s what happened to be. It was a while ago now and I was writing in my journal. It must have been ages ago because I don’t keep a journal anymore.

In any case, with nobody reading over my shoulder, it was left to me to express surprise at a sudden outburst of poetics on the page. And along with the surprise, I was able to make a quick note of what I’d written:

Anyway, this post isn’t about this little demonstration of spontaneous poetic genius; it’s actually about the ‘sometime soon’ tagging along on the end.

I have no idea where or what the walk to take, the pilgrimage to make, was – or is. Which suggests a rather obvious conclusion: ‘sometime soon’ never came. The walk was not taken; the pilgrimage was not made.

Now, I’m thinking to myself, if the walk under discussion was so appealing – as well as so significant that it transformed into a pilgrimage – then how come ‘sometime soon’ wasn’t right now, or rather right then. If you follow me.

Of course there’s no telling the reasons for the sometime soon. Maybe plans would have been required; travel to arrange; equipment to gather; fitness to acquire. Who knows?

Clearly I was inspired to at least put down in writing that I thought this walk, this pilgrimage, was (or would be) a good thing to do.

Meaning, in that moment, in the present that is (or was) of that moment, that walk/pilgrimage was a thing I wanted to undertake.

Now, while I might have longed to take that walk, to make that pilgrimage, in the present of that moment of writing, and even though planning may have been required, thereby putting off the actuality of the taking and making till some future time, I at the very least could have taken some action – again in the present of that moment – to get the ball rolling so to speak.

So, what’s the lesson here?

Well it’s simple really, very simple. Maybe simpler to say than to actually put into practice, but I think my lesson here is just this. Tell myself the truth as often and as much as I possibly can. In other words:

Be honest with myself

Let’s look at the options

If I’d really wanted to take this walk, to make this pilgrimage, no matter how remote, how complicated the logistics or planning, why didn’t I take action in that present? Or at least in some present before I actually forgot completely what the walk/pilgrimage was.

And why add ‘sometime soon’ if I didn’t actually desire or intend for this thing to happen? Well, possibly to put of any decision about doing or not doing. Or perhaps it was a way of saying (in completely other words), ‘Well, it sounds very nice, but I doubt I will ever end up doing it.’

So, honesty, and clear thinking about what I want and what I don’t want. That way I won’t be so attached, so keen on clinging to outcomes that I can’t see clearly, can’t easily know what I am to do or not do. Presence. Being present is what this is really about isn’t it?

To be completely present, to be fully here and now, requires me (all of us I suppose) let go of the maybes, and the ifs and buts as well as the endless ruminations about do this or don’t do that.

If I want to take a walk, or make a pilgrimage, then I say to me: just get on with it! If I don’t, then just say so, and move on.

Last little comment: I would really love for the present to remind me of what this walk/pilgrimage was. I’m a bit curious I guess(yes I know, curiosity is a present moment deflater) Maybe it’ll come back to me now I’ve written this post.

Peace