One of the stories I’ve been telling myself for pretty much as long as I can remember, is that my life has been impacted, influenced, directed, controlled, by depression and fatigue. As with all stories, there are elements of fact, fiction, fantasy, real life experience, truth, and the not so true in this one.
Anyway, with the fatigue factor in mind, I’ve recently made an intention (I call it a sankalpa) to lie down for an hour or two every day whether I ‘felt like’ it or not. The idea was that a daily break would be like a catch up, a preemptive measure if you like. Even if I didn’t sleep, it’d be an opportunity to just be still, listen to nice music, relax for a while, a quiet time.
Today, just after breakfast, and getting deeply into my spiritual practice, I suddenly experienced an epiphany. Or to be a little less grandiose about it, I had a little insight which has lead to me to make these notes.
Despite that feeling of exhaustion, and despite the previously mentioned intention to rest more, I resisted going to lie down, thinking I can lie down later in the day.
Why? Surely a person who thinks their life has been ruled by depression and fatigue, would welcome any pretext to lie down, to sleep, to shut the world out for a while.
And, then comes the insight: All of a sudden I realised why I was resisting taking rest: Well, the fact was that I didn’t want to sleep because, well, I’d be asleep. I’d not be able to continue my practice, read, write, to ‘live now’. Putting it another way, I simply wanted to keep on keeping on doing exactly what I was doing.
But wait, I hear you asking: how can you fully live now when you’re so tired?
Excellent question; the exact question in fact that I asked myself. The answer I got from Self was interesting: fatigue as a symptom and outcome of depression is one thing; fatigue resulting from living a full life with enthusiasm (sort of sometimes) is quite a different thing.
Actually, now I think about it, there’s another little insight making its way to the surface of this over-active, over-full mind: The very fact that I thought I had living to do now is a very clear signal that, for at least the moment, depression is not dragging me around, or down, or anywhere else.
Just that concept of wanting to be awake to live this moment? Well, isn’t that a joyful thing? But what about being so tired? Should I go and lie down now anyway?
Ummm… Actually I don’t know; I can’t say really. So, I think I will just keep on doing what I was doing when I began these notes.
Which was chanting the names of God.
Hare Krishna Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna Hare Hare Hare Rama Hare Rama Rama Rama Hare Hare.
Now that should wake me up for a bit.
PS It’s a bit later in the day, and I’m typing up the notes as a post for the blog. I did in fact carry on chanting for a while, I’ve had lunch, and I think after I post this, I might go for a walk around the neighbourhood. And no, I haven’t had to lie down yet.
Welcome to another poetic sharing post. There have been a few lately haven’t there? I had thought that once I had the new page Poems of Devotion up and running that I would only feature one every now and again in its own post.
However the one I feel inclined to share with you today is slightly different. Well, not really: it’s still a devotional piece, but for some reason feels a little other than that.
This hermit’s choice: the number 1 coffee shops in the Hermitage neighbourhood
For a start, it’s set in a café and features the thoughts of a hermit monk (me), and is about what’s going on in that space at that moment. As well as what’s in his mind and heart. Oh yes, almost forgot: the action takes place on Election Day.
So, what is it that makes me feel this poem is ‘still devotional but slightly other’? Well, aside from the setting, timing, and so on I just described, I sense that, in its words, in its composition, the hermit has sought to record (through the poem) that moment in the café as the reaching out to all those fellow beings sharing the space, to recognise, and to celebrate the divine in them all.
May that intention shine through to you too, dear reader
THE HERMITS HAVE COFFEE ON ELECTION DAY
I feel like I’m sitting in a Hopper painting. Just off the village green at a coffee shop, in the Toukley Mall.
There are people; aren’t there always? Coming and going. This one catching gossip; that one seeking connection; One or two heads down, backs bent over newspapers assimilating myriad tales of woe. It’s election day.
Of little interest to the hermits, out of the hermitage for coffee. A treat that comes at a cost.
Voices – of people and of headlines – speak, some even shout, of worldly things. To us not real.
Leaves me hollow. That’s the vibe, the feeling inside – And that’s not real either.
It’s been just over a week now since the new page on the blog went live. I have to say that it’s been very satisfying setting it up, then uploading some of my devotional poems.
Actually, it was while uploading one yesterday that I thought, I’ll feature this one in its own post. I did mention that I would like to continue this occasional practice.
There’s not too much to say about this particular poem really – best to leave it to speak for itself. I’m only introducing it like this because I wanted to include a Wikipedia link that might help clarity a couple of the terms and some of the details mentioned in the poem.
The poem speaks about the concept of Viakuntha, which as you’ll see is the supreme heaven for some Indian traditions. The link leads to an interesting and short read, well worth the time I think.
The myth of Vaikuntha was a trigger for this poem, as was the meaning of the word itself. Is it a real place? Who knows. Fact and truth don’t always agree, and as for me, I don’t think about the question.
Myth has been the way we humans have always used to tell our story. To try to sort out the big questions: where are we from? Who are we? Where are we going? All the ‘big questions’ are addressed by mythologies from every culture – every family, country, you name it – on Earth.
In any case I think that my poem came about as a result of my own contemplation on the story, on those big questions, on Self really.
I hope you will visit my Poems of Devotion page. I’m still adding poems to the page, and of course, with grace, I will continue to write.
Now, please enjoy reading my poem, and I hope it’s a nice experience for you.
Love and Peace Paul the hermit
OUT BEYOND CAPRICORN & DEEP WITHIN EACH HEART
Vaikuntha: Without anxiety. Is there such a place? Free from worry? Out there, they say, beyond Capricorn. There’ll you’ll find the highest heaven, the abode of God.
No need to look to the stars: Vaikuntha is here. Vaikuntha is now. Within and without you.
Vaikuntha is indeed beyond; beyond the material world, beyond the realm of bodies and minds; beyond the illusions of places and spaces. Atma – Universal Consciousness – you and me, that’s Vaikuntha. You and me, all there is. No anxiety
Just now (as in earlier today) I had some perfectly natural, normal, and expected thoughts about my prayer life. If I’m to be honest though, and perhaps a tad overly tough on myself, the thoughts I had felt slightly ridiculous given my professed commitment to praying constantly, and my supposed understanding of the meaning and function of prayer. In other words, there I was again: putting some kind of unrealistic expectations on myself – again!
Anyway, enough of that. To sum up those thoughts: I was thinking they – my prayers – aren’t working. Nothing is happening. And I was asking myself questions: What’s been achieved? What’s coming from all the effort? Where are the results?
And then, exactly at the moment I was writing down those thoughts and questions, I lifted my eyes from my notebook to see my partner-hermit approaching.
‘It’s my blessing at the moment,’ she said walking by my chair.
Why did she say that?
Because, right there before my eyes was evidence that none of my ridiculous thoughts and questions on my prayer life, had any meaning whatsoever. There was the answer, walking past me.
I feel like talking more … Sorry. Start again. It’s not what it seems and, well rather than get into it now, just read on a bit and all shall become clear.
Anyway, there’s an old joke that goes like this: One friend says to another friend: ‘How come you’re always talking to yourself?’ To which the second friend replies: ‘Well, you see, I always like to talk to the most intelligent person in the room, so I look around and usually I find that it’s me. So I end up talking to myself’.
Okay, maybe not so funny. Could be taken as bad manners or rude come to think of it. But that’s how jokes often are isn’t it?
Anyway, and here we get to the little bit of clarity I promised, you’re probably going to remind me that I have often said I would like to talk less, and be quiet more often.
That’s still true, but this is different. You see, lately I’ve been feeling the need to talk more about various aspects of my ‘inner life’. You know the sort of thing: confusions and worries; niggling issues bugging me; that kind of stuff.
And my community hear and experience quite enough of my inner life, with its contradictions, mood swings, and the rest; I have no intention of being more of a burdon than I probably already am.
So, I look around and ask who’s left? Me! Myself! I! Not exactly the most intelligent person in the room, so there the joke breaks down, but it does indeed look like I might end up talking to myself after all.
Well, it’s kind of a yes and no sort of thing. ‘Myself’ is the individual with this mind and body, making these words appear on the screen. It’s the ego self, the me that’s the being who walks, talks, breathes, and … Well you know what else.
But, and this is the brilliant bit, if I separate the words to read My Self, will it’s a whole other story. For a start, Self is not ‘mine’. Self is that part of me that is consciousness; and it’s not a different entity than ‘your’ consciousness, or anyone or anything else’s.
So, if I start talking to this Self that’s actually anyone and everyone, and not just me, who is it that I am in fact talking to?
Sounds to me like I’d be talking to you, and you, and everyone else; to the trees, the birds; everybody!
And yes, that’s exactly right. For me, there is only Self – consciousness – that is indeed anyone, anything, everyone, and everything in the Universe, both seen and unseen.
In other words, I’d be talking to God; the Divine; the Absolute Reality; the Thou Art That described by at least one of the world’s great spiritual traditions.
Which is to say, I want – need – to spend some more time talking to, and in conversation with, God.
Phew. I’m glad I figured that out.
You might remember the prayer I wrote a while ago to the Divine Mother? Seems like a good place to share it with you again.
It was way back in the earlier days of this blog, sometime in 2022, that I wrote a post about our community’s liking for snacking on plain toast by choice. It’s our more or less regular late evening, before bed, bite to eat. Perhaps accompanied by black tea, as I described in that post.
As I also point out in that post, I do actually enjoy plain toast. It’s not that I no longer like jam or other yummy spreads; I like them too well truth be told, but sometimes, well, plain is good.
As the day winds down to become night, and we settle to our evening snack, I will sometimes make a joke about simple food, or monks with simple tastes, whatever. Anyway, a few nights ago I made a remark, a joke, that has had a profound impact on me.
‘I’ll just say a prayer for my two slices of dry toast.’
Of course I am just like so many other religious or spiritually inclined people, and say a prayer before I receive any and all food or drink. It’s a long time habit, and a blessing I like to perform. Just a thank you is all it is really.
This comment, this joke, as soon as it was out of my mouth, I realised, of course I will. Don’t I always?
It’s true that our community lives simply, as simply as we can. And that includes what we eat and drink. It’s also true that this is not some sort of ethical stance consciously taken; nor is it a kind of overlaid act of solidarity with those who have no choices due to poverty or other circumstances.
It’s purely and simple because we like simple. It really does suit our natures and temperaments and for us it is the obvious way to live.
It is no renunciation: we welcome simple. This obviously is not to say that we are unaware that our very natures and temperaments naturally steer us away from choices that are unethical or are out of sync with compassion (call it solidarity) for other beings.
The reason I’m ranting on about this off-hand comment thrown out as a so-called joke is, well just that: It was off-hand, and my misguided intention in making this ‘joke’ was insensitive and careless; it was lacking compassion for all the other living beings sharing life and consciousness with me.
And for that flippancy and carelessness, I ask forgiveness from the invisible community that is in fact all of us struggling to live in a material world.
My sense is that in saying ‘all of us’ I might instead say, all of us who are in truth One; We who are that one Self that seeks forgiveness.
Varuna and Surya. the Hindu deities of sky and all Earth’s waters (Varuna), and our sun (Surya). These names resonate for me. I like how such great natural phenomena fundamental to our existence on this planet, can be ‘personalised’ in this way.
I find that having acquired symbolic or representational names for sky, water, and sun, has allowed me to somehow relate to the inherent giving and preserving of the energies that power all life that water, sky, and sun provide in a prayerful, thankful way. Kind of makes it personal.
Let me put aside for a moment the obvious scientific reality that tells us we can’t live long without water, can’t live at all without the gases in our atmosphere, and if the sun goes dark for whatever length of time it is, then all life ceases to exist.
How many times have I stood in awe watching a sunset?
Or watched as big waves rolled in with a surfer hoping for a ride?
How many times have I welcomed the sound of rain on a roof and the sight of it nourishing trees or other life
And how many times have I sat on or walked along a riverbank feeling uplifted and a little more grounded?
Many, many times is the short answer. Varuna and Surya are constant presences in our lives. And I am grateful for the life-giving and life-sustaining natures of their existence.
Sharing with you today, a little poetic expression of one of those times when sky, water, and sun, gave me just a little more than those fundamental material energies.
ONCE AGAIN VARUNA AND SURYA
Once again, Varuna and Surya are coming to make rescue. They arrive on – as in fact they are – the currents and eddies of the river of life. In this way, the natural order remains in motion.
Shared with love
from Paul the hermit
Flow river go, past the shady tree. Flow river flow, flow to the sea. Flow river flow, flow to the sea.
Thanks to Roger McGuinn for one of the classic flowing on a river songs.
You know, for all my prayers; for all my mental discipline – efforts at mental discipline – for all my meditations, chanting, and other practices, I still just talk way too much for my liking, and often it feels like it’s only talking for the sake of talking.
I still just open my mouth and let come out any old thing that keeps the noise going. Oh, it’s worse than that: sometimes when I talk it’s rambling and waffling that I cleverly (or not so cleverly) disguise as intelligent, rational, and based logically on knowledge that I either have or haven’t got. Either way, I somehow seem to think I’m offering words of well thought out wisdom.
Whereas, as I said, the noise I make is so often rambling, contradictory , ill-informed, thoughtless waffle.
Enough! Blimey, that’s enough. Talk about opening a post on a calm, relaxed, optimistic, and compassionate note.
Here’s the thing: I want to devote my entire life to devotion and prayer. And that requires at least some silence. Yet, instead, I merely talk about the joys of silence, about the joys of full-on devotion to the divine, and as well I occupy so much time and energy to just voicing random thoughts that come and go, go and come, without rhyme, without reason.
Okay, here’s the second thing: I long with my deepest longing to be silent – to not simply stop talking, though that would be an excellent beginning. No, I want to be quiet; I want my vocal chords to have a break and let my true voice speak through my life, through this blog, my photographs and in whatever way I am lead.
So, what to do? Well, here’s the third thing, thing number three: all I need to do in order to both stop talking so much and be silent is to just sit. Sit and do nothing. There is no thing that I can do that will magically turn me into an oasis of silence and peaceful calm.
Sometime in the dim distant path I read someone paraphrasing The fouth Noble Truth in two words, Just sit. Buddha did indeed know what he was talking about. And I do get the irony: when I talk, I need to say something that helps, not just make noise and try to avoid silence.
Walking home, returning to the sanctuary of the hermitage, I fell over. Or to be exact, I tripped.
It’s not the first time I’ve tripped in my life, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. Mind you, I’m not supposed to be making speculations about the future; after all, I may never fall over (or trip) again.
Let me share with you how I came to find myself lying on the ground, fully conscious thankfully, with only a few grazes on arms and knees, and a sore spot on the side of my head.
Walking along the sidewalk quite freely, earbuds feeding my ears and my heart my favourite mantra to Ganesha – known as the remover of obstacles and the God of wisdom. (more on the earbud issue later)
At one point I noticed, a few metres ahead, what appeared to be the back of a largish sign board leaning against the base of an electricity pole growing out of the pavement.
Not the actual sidewalk
Without any thought whatsoever, as I came up to that pole, I turned my head to the left to see what the sign read. Next thing I know, is I have the sense of falling. Later I remembered that at the exact moment I turned my head, my foot caught the broken and uneven edge of a slab of the pavement.
I was blessed by two passersby who stopped and helped me back to my feet, and stayed with me as I regained some semblance of my bearings. Thank you to those two good and kind ones.
Now, I don’t like falling over (well, when you think about it, who does?), but in this case I can say through this fall, I have learned a couple of good lessons.
Presence – or lack thereof. Here I am, the hermit monk who is supposedly constantly practising being present, in the moment, here and now; yet I tripped over what I later discovered was a really obvious, clear obstacle on my path.
We all get distracted, you might be thinking. And, yes, it’s true. We can be paying close attention, fully focused, riveted to and in the moment, and, suddenly distraction barges in – in the form of a thought, an external noise, visual imput, and even a broken pavement. You name it, and mind will use any excuse it can to manifest a distraction.
Another lessen – intimately related to presence – is pausing, or not! As I noticed that sign coming up, I could have chosen to pause to look at it once I reached it.
Then, rather than being a distraction, looking at that sign would have simply been another moment in the ongoing flow of the present. In other words, there’d have been no tripping.
The actual earbuds in question
Now, to the earbud issue. To be honest, my earbuds have more or less replaced my regular over the ears headphones. Because I was never comfortable going out and about with those clunky things on my head and earbuds have allowed me to listen to music pretty much whenever and wherever I go. Even to me wearing them, they are barely noticeable. It’s possible that’s the problem right there: unnoticeable.
More than 30 years ago now, I spent every Tuesday evening for a year attending classes at a school of philosophy . To this day I still follow some of the practices I learned there. And, passed to me were so many good lessons, so much good knowledge drawn from many of the world’s spiritual and intellectual traditions. So many of these lessons have stuck with me.
Presence, or rather the benefits and rewards of realizing the present is all there is, was I would say, one of the cornerstones of those teachings.
One illustration about presence concerned driving, and although at the time I haddn’t learned to drive, it resonated with me. Our teacher told us that, when she was driving, she never listened to music or anything else. She told us that she simply put her full attention on the task at hand: driving.
She described how it often happened that when driving she’d reach her destination with little or no memory of the actual act of driving or any landmarks or events on the trip itself. She said it was if she was somehow unconscious, yet still able to drive ‘on autopilot’ was how she put it.
And of course it’s not a phenomenon limited to driving: how much of our routine daily activity runs on autopilot?
Anyway, back to the other day and me grooving to Ganesh in my ears and tripping in a moment of inattention.
I don’t recall being distracted by the mantra in my head, or moving on autopilot. But, thinking back, I was in one of the busiest sections of the little town that hosts our hermitage. I’d been to the supermarket, the parking lot of which is as busy – and crazy – as one you would find in any big city.
Just another sidewalk tripper
So, I realise now, I had already kind of set myself up to fall for any distraction that happened to come along. While I don’t really remember myself as being ‘unconscious’ of my surroundings or of the path itself, clearly I wasn’t completely there, not in the here and now sense if you know what I mean. Just an after thought: who remembers ‘being unconscious? Nobody I think!
Whatever I say now, I wasn’t present; I wasn’t fully in the moment, not paying attention to either what I was doing or what was going on around me.
Since my little trip, I have vowed before my hermit community to not ever walk again in a built up and busy area wearing my earbuds.
Not only do I have a sense of danger lurking when I think of the idea of wearing them in those situations, but I also feel that it’s not exactly being present, in the here and now is it?
Another closed cafe on some other trip
Okay, I am very sure you are waiting with great anticipation to learn what what fateful sign, put in my way by the Universal Traffic Controller to push me into changing direction, actually said:
It was a handwritten advertisement for ‘great coffee’ to be had in a cafe across the road. A closed cafe I might add.
On Main Road – a road that more than lives up to its name – perhaps there are worse fates awaiting the inattentive than merely tripping on the sidewalk.
There, dear friends, right there, in the title are our next two W questions, as well as the answers to both.
The answer is brief, succinct, right to the point, yes indeed. But somehow to me it doesen’t seem very helpful, a bit vague.
Here and now. Let’s look at this tricky little phrase. On the face of it Here and Now has an obvious meaning: if we choose to think on it in the spirit of our ongoing contemplation on my prayer life, it’s very clear. Here and now is a timely reminder to me to pray right where I am, right now, wherever I might be; and whatever the time, day or night.
But it’s not really a very satisfying answer is it? Here and Now? It seems too flippant to me, too bland, even a bit of a ‘catch all’ cliche thrown around without any real insight into its meaning or importance.
Anyway, moving right along …
We are exhorted to pray without ceasing in the Christian Bible with similar exhortations found in so many other texts and scriptures from many faith traditions.
Remember my aspiration to make of my life a prayer? Well, that’s the idea: to pray without ceasing. Which translates to mean that everything I do, say, think, feel (what else?) will be prayer – or I can also say a prayer. Life is a prayer, life is lived as a prayer.
Of course the precise forms my prayer takes are – and will ever be – many and varied. We’ll be looking at some of those forms and types later in the How post of this series. But, for now, allow me to brainstorm on the topic for a bit.
Consider washing the dishes, a task we all find ourselves engaged in to some degree or other. I have a sense that my feelings towards dish washing is actually quite neutral. Don’t get me wrong: if I never had to wash a dish again you would not hear me complain.
At the same time, I have absolutely no hard feelings against washing dishes.I just get on with it, just like most everybody else.
Sticking with dish washing …
Most often dishes need washing as a consequence of preparing, cooking, and eating food, for a meal or meals. Right there is an obvious opportunity for a simple prayer of gratitude.
It might be a simple whispered thank you for the gifts of the nourishment, satisfaction, even pleasure of the meal. Anyway, just a random first thought on the subject.
There are a few other points to be made in our little dish washing thought exercise as it fits into my own prayer life.
Sometimes, while actually dish washing and cleaning up, I might chant mentally, or otherwise pray with words – set prayers. Prayers of praise or gratitude; mainly whatever pops into mind. Go with the flow is the theme here.
Now, that’s one thought. Next: I might decide to be quiet while washing up. That is not speaking and being as silent inside as I can be.
On these occasions I just focus as intently as I can on what I’m doing: washing dishes. I make it an occasion for not doing the dishes just to get them done, or to get them out of the way, or to put an end to an onerous chore.
Rather, it’s more an opportunity to simply wash the dishes, by being with the dishes and the actions required to clean them. Just a little aside: this particular form of mindful (prayerful) dish washing actually results in cleaner dishes. It’s been proven scientifically.
These two approaches to washing dishes – not to mention all the other means and forms of prayer – are not necessarily mutually exclusive, nor are they the only one: a given dish washing event might involve several prayer modes.
Which leads me to the next thought that I had more or less forgotten…
Sometimes I do indeed slip into that old ‘Just get the blank blank things done’ frustration mood. And it doesn’t just happen when faced with the dishes!
It goes without saying that I wouldn’t need an aspiration if I was already acting full time in that prayerful manner. I do practise – sometimes with more determination than others – performing all my actions mindfully (aka prayerfully), though there’s far to go for me in the praying ceaselessly department.
So, to a good question you may be asking: Is there somewhere (or multiple somewheres) that I go to to pray? Some special sacred or holy place?
Well, I know that we are always all of us standing on sacred ground – it is all the Divine. Still, there are places that help me, all of us, feel closer to that divinity, to the sacred, to God, or whatever we call it.
There are places that exude that special vibe, or have a certain atmosphere of calm, quiet, or stillness, that are conducive to prayer.
An apparently random glance skyward blessed me with this moment and this place of prayer
Talking about the idea that we are always standing and walking on sacred ground, there are often places I come across that speak to me as places of prayer. It might be a tree, like the one pictured here; it might be a distant view of a lake and the hills beyond.
Such places call to me to stop. Perhaps for a moment, perhaps to sit and linger and pray with words, or with silence.
In the Hermitage, there is temple, a room we have set aside for that purpose, and no other. From the very first day I set this room aside as a temple, I have felt a stillness there, a tranquil vibe.
Among such spontaneous little moments, there are times I simply stop and stare at a flower, or without thought put my hand on a tree. I will whisper a quiet thank you and a blessing to the Divinity I sense there.
Temples, churches, chapels, prayer rooms, mosques, and other types of sacred sites from andy and all spiritual and religious traditions, attract me as well.
These are all places people have spent time in praying, contemplating their lives and their union with the Divine. All that energy, all that love and devotion has caused an atmosphere of holiness, or sacredness to build up over what can be years, centuries, even millennia, in some places I have prayed.
But, really, when all is said and done, anywhere and anywhen can be and is a place for prayer. Here, in this booth, in the cafe at the lakeshore near the Hermitage, I make these notes in a mood of prayer, a prayer of love and devotion.
Being present, mindful, and prayerful in all I do, that’s my aspiration. Here and Now. Anywhere and anywhen; it’s all prayer.
Notes from the Hermit's Cave 