Aspire to a Balanced Life

‘I pause to rest when I feel the need’.

Makes sense, don’t you think? It is a really excellent affirmation to give oneself isn’t it? A wise piece of advice also. And I agree with you: great advice, sensible, logical, very helpful for anyone and everyone. Unfortunately, it’s not something I can honestly tell you that I practise on any kind of regular basis. It’s more likely that I would have to admit to you that:

‘I am always hurrying to get things done, and until I do, there’s no rest. Doesn’t matter how I feel’.

And it doesn’t seem to matter whether I have a lot to do, or only a little – or even if there’s nothing needing my attention. Whatever the situation, you will catch me in a hurry, going as fast as I can to get whatever there is, done. ASAP.

Okay, I admit it: I am exaggerating slightly. But not by much. Always rushing, always ‘getting ahead of myself’, always in a hurry. It’s been a problem for, well, forever really.

And I know I’m not alone. The world – as in society, economics, education, and the rest – is in a never-ending race to do whatever they do, and to get it done as quickly as possible, regardless of the cost to the planet and all of us who live on Her.

And, obviously, we are all caught up in this ‘race’, in pretty much every area of our lives.

Whether it’s an exercise program we set for ourselves, or which has been forced upon on us by advertising, cultural shaming, false identification with our bodies. Or the intense and all-pervading pressure to be ‘more productive’ at work. Or the newest mobile app that will magically make even our off-work lives more productive and (supposedly) give us that extra edge in the marketplace (whatever that means).

And remember school? High school? College? The night classes you took for fun and relaxation? How many classes began with the teacher giving the following little speech:

‘Now, we can really take our time with this class/course/semester, and we will be able to take as many breaks as we like. We have plenty of time to cover all the material. So, sit back, relax, take your time and enjoy.’

Not many I’m guessing.

Now, as a hermit, you might think I lead a quiet life. And it’s true: I do. Relatively speaking that is. All of us are required to be constantly taking some kind of action in order to maintain life.

Just like everyone else I have to do whatever it takes to just be alive: Cooking, eating, cleaning, laundry, shopping, praying, meditating, relating to loved ones as well as other people I encounter.

Then there’s reading, studying, talking (way too much in my own case), thinking. Well, that’s probably enough to be getting on with, I think.

Despite my hermit life, all these and more I do. And for me, it’s always in a rush and hurry. Well, not always perhaps, but too often for my liking, and way too often for my mental health, peace of mind and for the calm, peaceful like, I aspire to.

Whatever our personal lifestyle, or way of living, we are all in the same boat, so to speak.

Fix your mind of truth and be free from the concerns of the material world.

So, what to do? How can we slow down, get some sort of equilibrium or balance in our lives? How do we stop the rush, the panic, the pressures that besiege us and sometimes overwhelm us?

Well, there’s the problem. I won’t say I have no idea. I can’t say I don’t know. But, and here’s the point, while I can tell you how I am trying to do.If you’ve read what I’ve told you already, you will realise that whatever I try only works sometimes. And a very few sometimes’s at that.

Mindfullness

I try all the time to make everything I do, even if it’s just walking down the street, or washing the dishes, a prayer. Which is really simply another way to say that I try to do everything mindfully.

Sounds really simple when I put it like this, but of course it’s not at all. It takes discipline (I want to talk about this a little more later on). It’s about focusing on how you are interacting with the world around you, and obviously this starts with being fully mindful in each moment as you take action in the world, whatever it might be.

Simplify.

Not easy, I know. Life is full of details and complications. It’s full of conflicting priorities, each with their own sense of urgency and importance. The simple advice is to do what you can. Once again, tackle all the things you have to do one step/thing at a time.

Did you notice the italics? Be alert to the old urgent vs important dichotomy: not everything is of equal importance, regardless of appearances. Equally, we have to discern a thing’s or action’s degree of urgency for ourselves. With obvious exceptions, most things aren’t as urgent or immediate as they are presented.

Minimise.

Sound familiar?

Listen carefully to the commands to buy, buy, buy, and do, do, do that we are constantly being bombarded with from all direction. Ask yourself one of the big self enquiry questions: Do I really need … ?

Related to this is the question of how much money we actually need to have a good life, support our families, and so on. No guru, teacher, book, or anything else can help with this one; we are all different and have our own unique and specific needs. Only you can know what is right for you.

Discipline.

I mentioned this aspect of the solution to bringing a calmer, slower, less pressured vibe of equilibrium to our lives. For me (self-discipline is what we’re talking about here) is not only about willpower, though of course, it’s an important part of the picture. A quote from Bhagavad Gita that I think points us in a helpful direction:

What does it mean, ‘fix your mind on truth’? While it is very often an extremely difficult thing to do, fixing your mind on truth simply means keeping your mind (and consequently your body and heart too) focused on what is actually real, important, and meaningful to you. It means staying focused on what truly resonates with you as the way you wish to live your life.

So hard is this for me to do, that I am engaged in an ongoing project (please forgive the productivity cult lingo) to keep focused on what is true and real to me. To be honest, while I’m pretty sure that it does get easier with practise, I will always be refocusing on my truth. As they say, it comes with the job description for all of us human beings.

Now, about the second half of that Bhagavad Gita quote. If we do manage to reach that stage where we are able to focus on the meaningful and important, the truth for us, will all our troubles, problems, pressures, commitments of all kinds, just magically go away? Can we eliminate completely ‘the concerns of the material world’?

Absolutely not. The only thing that will potentially cease is our constant state of  being stressed.

While the things we worry about now won’t disappear, the worry itself may lessen. Our abilities to function more effectively and happily in the world (in our family, our work, our own mind) will also improve. We really may become one of those people who always (or most of the time) take things in our stride.

But we should remember that the pressures, conflicts, health issues, the need to support ourselves and family, relationships with all their ups and downs, remain; they are part of the human condition; they are the natural order of things in this material world.

What we can do, is try as much as we can to control our minds, trying to remain focused on that which is true and meaningful to us.

Minimise, simplify as far as possible in all everything. We can focus on all that is true and meaningful in the life you are creating on an ongoing basis. And, of course, it is one considered and deliberate step at a time.

For Thoreau, going to live in the woods was the natural thing to do. It resonated with his soul and heart.

Of course going to live in the woods isn’t for everyone, but if it speaks to  you; if it is in tune with your own truth and you feel it would give your life meaning, then why not?

All of us have within us our own ‘going to the woods’ equivalent. It might be anything. Go find it! Rest there.

The last words of this post are the same as the first. Actually as I think about it now, I see more clearly that this entire post with all its words and thoughts, might be summed up very nicely by that one small affirmative statement. Well, I might add three more words of my own:

In all things, I pause to rest whenever I feel the need.
Peace and love from me to you.

Illusion, fear and wrong thinking? A good question

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

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

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

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

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?

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?

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

A Journey to the Centre of the World (sort of)

Namaste and greetings

Yesterday I came across a couple of stories – true ones – that I wrote years ago. They are what we might loosely call ‘travellers’ tales. I thought it might be nice to share them here. So here’s the first one. Enjoy

Not the Manu temple I write about, but another one close by

I’d walked up to Old Manali, and I’d kept walking through the town. Then higher still, past the temple to Manu, and the scattering of traditional houses and small fields clustered around the temple.

Three near-naked and stoned saddhus invited me into their cave – more a kind of overhanging rock shelf poking out from the foundations of the temple itself.

Naturally I declined. Politely. I wasn’t, never had been, and never shall be a stoner. Besides, here I was deep in the Himalayas walking through ancient villages and past temples to ancient gods. Seems to me that that’s enough to bring on a high all its own and like no other.

Then, a little higher up the trail. I rounded a corner to be greeted by a kind of open forest glade; a grassed and flowered field protected by a semi circle of forest sentinels, their crowns maybe thirty metres above my head.

And there, in the middle of this magic field, a large flat rocky area, like a series of ‘shelves’ layered one on the other. This maybe twenty square metre tiered platform was probably the remnants of an ancient hill (or mountain?) that got in the way of a more recent but clearly relentless glacier.

Whatever the history, here was an arena with views no theatre or movie could ever hope to reproduce. This natural amphitheatre faced several layers of peaks across the valley. But, before those peaks, and directly in front of me, just down the slope, stood the temple, then more trees, reaching down into the valley. Here the river flowed, surrounded by farmers’ fields and the brown dots of houses.

Then the forests begin again, thick at the bottom in the valley, but becoming more scattered on the higher ground. Then those many layers of higher and higher hills, mountains really, rolling off into the distance to, where on the horizon and behind it all, a row of the really high peaks covered in their permanent snows.

‘This is a special place, a sacred place,’ I heard myself sigh out loud. Sitting cross-legged now, I let my eyes wander over the scene taking in the blue sky, the white peaks, the multiple greens of the forests, the sliver ribbon of the river, and the rest.

At such times and in such places, one’s eyes tend to close of their own accord. And so it was for me then and there. I let myself drift. Thoughts came and went, to be replaced by more thoughts that came and went.

Then, my eyes opened. Again of their own accord. After a few seconds of that cliched ‘where am I?’ feeling one has when startled out of one state and into another, I made out the figure of a person standing facing me a few metres from where I sat.

‘I’m sorry,’ I heard her voice call to me. ‘You just looked so peaceful sitting there meditating, I just had to stop and watch you.’

She told me she’s been watching me for about fifteen minutes, which gave me a start: It’d felt l Ike I’d only just sat down and closed my eyes.

‘They say the light of the world is held about twelve kilometres up this trail. That means it’s the centre of the world.’

I had to stand to try to take in a revelation of this magnitude.

‘And apparently,’ she went on, ‘they’re going to move it soon and nobody knows where.’

Was she an angel? Was I dreaming? They, whoever they were, are about to shift the centre of the world? Even in India one doesn’t hear this kind of news everyday. Actually, I doubt you’d ever hear it on any day.

Then she was gone, headed up the trail. I didn’t follow. I remember thinking: twelve kilometres was too far for me especially as I already had a long walk downhill to my hotel back down in the new town.

Yes, mundane, practical musings, a typical response to news of such a wild and far-out nature. So, not exactly in shock, yet not quite myself, I turned back. Down. Through the village, past the temple with three crashed out saddhus out front, back into the town.

There are cafes there. They sell Chai there. I needed one.

Actually, given the momentous news I was going to have to digest, I might even have a couple extras.

This is a true story; it actually happened more or less the way it’s described here.

Of course, there is no ‘light of the world’ stored in some secret spot, somewhere on Earth.

Well, I suppose if there is a light of the world, then it’s likely to be the world itself, I mean Earth, all the beings who live on this planet. Life itself I guess you could say. Life is light; Life is love.

Peace

The Beginning of Devotion: A Poem

The Paradox of the Hermit Life (Courtesy of @travellinghermit3)

THE BEGINNING OF DEVOTION

Attention, paying attention.
It’s the beginning of devotion.
And when you see? When there is seeing?
Well, seeing is praise.

When we see, what we see,
is God.
Not the god, or this or that god.
There aren’t lots of gods,
or so it seems.
And in the end, there isn’t even one god:
there is only God.
So it was said by the sages.