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See the Tenderness
Over the years I’ve tried many types of meditation. But I always come back to the same method. I call it The Third Eye technique.
Once I’ve settled quietly, perhaps having taken a few deep breaths to relax a little, I bring my awareness to the centre of my forehead, the spot between my eyes. Traditionally, this is where the Third – or spiritual – eye is located.
(Actually that particular spot is in line with the Pineal gland which is located in the centre of the brain between the hemispheres, and its function is to help regulate sleep patterns.)
And then? Well, I know I’m not alone when I say that, no matter how hard I try, it seems a lot of the time nothing happens. Well, thoughts happen. Anxieties and memories intrude their pesky (and sometimes ugly) presence. So much for emptying the mind and having transcendental experiences.
Well, in fact despite evidence to the contrary, I – along with all of you who ‘try to meditate’ – do sometimes achieve a state of no thought, of total quiet. The problem is, of course, in a state where there is no thought it’s impossible to think: ‘Hey, I’m having no thoughts.’
As for the (rare) transcendent experience referred to: on those occasions something other than a thought, memory, anxiety, comes up; something that transcends those mundane ‘normal’ things.
See the tenderness. See the tenderness. See the tenderness.
These words seemed to come right after I’d thought for the millionth time ‘nothing’s happening’ while I tried to meditate one day a while ago.
Not spoken by a voice exactly, yet heard with my internal or mental ear. Clear and distinct; the same fully formed injunction repeated three times.
But, see the tenderness? I’m not sure where these words came from. The truth is I am a gentle person by nature; I am not naturally ‘tough’ or ‘aggressive’ or anything like that. But it’s also true that I’ve been all those things over long periods of my life. Nature vs nurture you see.
Anyway, what tenderness? Where? Does it refer to the tenderness that exists in the world?
Perhaps it’s to do with what I am supposed to be reading or otherwise taking in? Books, movies, and other story sources that speak of tender things and people?
Or might it be an injunction for me to redouble my efforts to turn away from the wold? To turn away from the horrors and the nastiness of Maya or the material and essentially illusory world?
And by this turning away from the world, perhaps tenderness is to be found and seen in a turning to the interior world, in the spaces of contemplation within Self.
This injunction (repeated emphatically three times. Sorry I already said that didn’t I?) does seem to have come from some part of my Self that longs for a gentler way to be, for a more tender way to relate to others and to Self.
Ideas and questions to contemplate and to reflect upon. Meanwhile, it’s a good start to know that even if my mind tells me otherwise, when I meditate, something is happening. Sometimes.
Peace
With These Words … Part 4
Welcome back to my little mini-series With These Words … , my reflections on how well my way of living measures up to the vows taken by many spiritual seekers, either in a community setting, or as a spiritually oriented hermit, or an individual ‘monk in the world‘ (and monk here has no gender specific meaning. A monk is a monk). Do these concepts work as a kind of philosophy of life for me?
Funny I used the expression measure up just now: You see, we’re at Part 4 which is Accountability. So, measuring up is the very thing we will be talking about right now! Oh, one thing: If you missed any of those earlier Parts to this series, you’ll find links in the PS at the bottom.
Accountability
It goes without saying that we are always accountable for the consequences of our actions, decisions, behaviours, and way of being in the world. Of course there is a deep mystical concept that it is only our material nature that carries out actions in the physical world and that the doer is actually the source of that material nature: God, Self, Brahman. Or you could say the Universe. As in I am a child of the Universe kind of thing.
But, you know, putting all that aside, we are actually living a physical life, and the truth is we are accountable for anything we do in this material world. And that means literally everything: thought, word, deed; the whole deal.
So, the question is not whether or not we are accountable: we just are. The real question is whether I myself acknowledge that accountability and act accordingly to change behaviours or whatever might be necessary.
To be honest, I truly feel that we all very often fail, sometimes even refuse, to even see the consequences of our actions, and therefore fail to make those necessary corrections or changes. Certainly you can put me high up on that list.
So, the big question: Do I feel ‘obligated to explain, justify and take responsibility for [our] actions and to answer to someone [for the consequences of those actions]? (Thanks Dictionary.com for the help here) That someone is very often yourself, or a partner, family member, work colleague, friend. You get it.
Personally, I would say definitely yes, sort of, sometimes. The problem comes up on those occasions when I fail to see, as I noted above. Now, again being very truthful about myself, I would say that most of the time I am aware of my actions, even when I’m not able to control them. But, still being truthful, I am often guilty of picking on the wrong stuff I do and end up blaming myself for innocent actions, and blissfully ignoring the other kind.
I am very big on taking responsibility once I’m aware of a not so good consequence or behaviour, or whatever. Of course like everyone else I do at times defend the indefensible. I’m particularly good with that sort of thing: it often takes me a long time to wake up. Not as long as it once did, but still.
In my attempts to live an authentic hermit life, I think naturally and, through my spiritual practice, meditation, study, and contemplation, not to mention self enquiry and heart level honesty, steadily making progress.
Like I said, being accountable is not the question. It’s about realising that I’m accountable and that I am thus responsible for taking whatever remedial action necessary. And it goes without saying I am also accountable for the consequences of those actions too.
Phew. That’s quite enough of this particular little episode of self enquiry. Okay. Just one more thought:
Remember my last post (I Think, Therefore I suffer. Sometimes) ? About how I was able to divert the ‘poor me’ thought train, to let the ‘I’m really and truly blessed’ express to roll on through? Well it occurred to me that this is a terrific example of accountability. Remember thoughts count as actions too.
I had the negative thoughts, which lead to the consequence of an onslaught of maudlin self-pity. and even in that sad state I realized that there could only be bad stuff come from that self-pity if left to fester – and it might not just be me who gets entangled: self-pity makes vibes, an atmosphere, and that affects everyone.
No, that was not going to happen, so other thoughts kicked in. In other words, I made changes: my thoughts of ‘woe is me’ transformed into ones of gratitude and acknowledgement of my true position.
Essentially I saw the consequences of my actions (or thoughts), realized at some level I was accountable to myself and others for those consequences (actual and potential), and I took action. As I said, this all was going on inside and happened in a flash really. Still, I am still witnessing the consequences of that little incident of being accountable for my actions and acting accordingly.
Enough I think I said? I realise that I have gone on and on and not given thought to the consequences to you, the suffering reader stuck with said verbosity. So, as a responsible hermit who has taken a vow to be a bit more silent at least sometimes, I will stop this post without further ado.
PS Just in case you’ve missed the previous posts in this series:
Part 1 The Introduction and overview
Part 2 Simplicity
Part 3 Purity
With These Words … Part 3
Well here we are at Part 3 of the mini series in which we’re looking at whether or not my ‘philosophy of life’ might be well described by living according to the vows used by many contemporary nuns and monks and that are a reinterpretation or evolution of the traditional vows.
As I’ve mentioned, I haven’t taken these vows, but when I learned about them (Simplicity, Purity, Accountability, and for some, Presence.) I thought I’d look at how well I live up to the life they dictate.
So, welcome. And if you haven’t yet seen the first two parts, please feel free to have a look at them. Part 1 is a sort of introduction and overview, while in Part 2 I asked whether or not I actually do manage to live a simple life.
Well, do I? To be honest, it was a nice challenge looking at that question; I mean it got me thinking about the reality of my life (like the rest of these posts will as well, obviously) and I would say yes, I think I do live a quite simple life, especially in the context of the dominant culture we live in, and society’s demands and pressures.
Anyway, time to get on with the next part of our little exploration.
Purity
Purity. It’s one of those words isn’t it? I mean, probably all of us think we know what it means, but it’s not a word we use on a day-to-basis is it? It’s a word we’d use rarely if ever to describe our behaviour or approach to life. So, what words do I use then?
Which reminds me: purity gets a bit of a bad rap I think. It’s often used to describe standards imposed by some group, or authority, a moral code thrust upon us, from someone or something outside of ourselves.
For me, Purity is really about my approach to life, to myself and other living beings, to the world, to everything actually.
So, with your permission I will try for the rest of this post to use words and ideas that actually mean something to me in my daily life and in the way I try to live.
Clean is a word that comes to mind. It sounds strange (and redundent) to say, but I try to live a clean life. Obviously I bathe regularly, wear clean cloths and try to not spill stuff too often. But, you might not know this, but clumsy is my middle name, so, yes spilling stuff is a curse I live with! (I just had an orange and I think more juice ended up on my shirt than in my mouth).
Now, actually that’s a good start: I mean to say, we’re all fallible beings; we all have things we can’t quite get right all the time: Pu … oops … the P word is a concept to hold on to in an aspirational way; it’s not a hard and fast set of rules or standards where I’m in a I am either, or I am not, scenario. Actually it’s very much to do with the present, but that literally is a story for another day isn’t it?
How else do I try to live clean? Thinking. I try, consciously, and all the time, to practise clean or we can say right thinking. Right thoughts about others, whether I like what they do or not. Right attitudes to others too are important aspirations for me as well.
To be truthful I’m not yet at the stage where I could say that having right attitudes to others has freed me to neither like or dislike people, situations, or whatever. Perhaps now and again, but certainly not all the time. Like everyone else I’m attached to my likes and dislikes, to my prejudices, and biases. As I said, it’s aspirational, something to work on continually.
Part of that right attitude, as well as living clean, is having a compassionate approach to other living beings. Meaning that with my actions, thoughts or behaviour I try to do as little harm as possible. Actually, it’s more than that: compassion for me must be an active thing, not just a vague feeling or intention informing my life.
In other words, I have designed my life (diet, clothing, transport, thinking, and the rest) so that I cause no more death or harm to any living thing than I can possibly manage.
Of course I realise we human beings are simply one more species among the many millions sharing this planet. Nothing any of us do in any sphere of life (our actions in the world, our thinking) can be accomplished without an impact on our fellow dwellers on Earth. All we can do is what we can do.
Aspiration. That’s what it boils down to for me. Did I mention it (you know … P) isn’t a you are or you are not kind of thing? Like the other P word, presence, it has at its main characteristic an ongoingness; there is no time when we can say I am P … .
Nor will there ever be a time when we can say in a way that that’s actually truth, ‘I give up, It’s too hard. I’m never going to be P… .
Which leads very nicely to Accountability, the next of our words to live by. But let’s get into that next time! Thank you sharing this time with me.
Peace and love
Lighting Candles, Learning Lessons
Not many people know this, but I’m a big fan of clichés. Not always, only when they serve a purpose, make a point, illustrate an idea, or have some other relevance or meaning. I remember an occasion when I witnessed a perfect illustration of a favourite cliché.
Once, many years ago I was sitting in a café in the Himalayas on a late monsoon afternoon when the clouds hung low and the lights were on so people could see. Suddenly, the lights went out.
A collective groan from the full café: people writing in journals, reading books and so on (no smartphones or laptops in those days), had to stop what they were doing. Although not an uncommon occurrence in those parts, lights going off was a bit of a pain for us spoiled tourists.
Anyway, one of the waiters fetched some candles, and began lighting one on each table. I think there were perhaps ten tables. I watched him as he moved slowly around the packed, but tiny café. As he lit the candle on the very last table, the electricity came back on.
Again the collective sighed, this time in relief, as light flooded the café. I heard one voice say something to the effect of: ‘he shouldnt have bothered, I mean the lights came on eventually’ .
‘Well, you know, if he hadn’t made the effort to make some light for us, maybe the power wouldn’t have come back so quickly’, I commented casually.
Another collective sigh and murmurs of, ‘Yes true’, and ‘far out’, ‘never thought of that’ and ‘so profound’. All this as response to some off the cuff, random remark by me.
And the cliché?
Its better to light a candle than to curse the darkness.
This cliché goes so well with something I like to say that has become a bit of cliché in itself (because I say it so often):
Just look at what you can do, not what you can’t do.
Of course, I didn’t invent this one, but still, to me it makes sense. For example, In the little scene described above, we couldn’t do anything to turn the electricity back on, but one of us (the waiter) could fetch and light some candles.
At Dictionary.com, it tells me that a cliché is:
a trite, stereotyped expression; … usually expressing a popular or common thought or idea, that has lost originality, ingenuity, and impact by long overuse.
Rubbish I say! Overuse? Why does using something a lot make it bad? Why should an idea or thought be robbed of its meaning or power, simply because its been around for a long time? There’s no need to overthink the topic; I’m not saying we should always use clichés. But at the same time, clichés have usually become clichés because they are true, or say something in a succinct and accessible way.
Anyway, this post isn’t about grammar, it’s about lighting candles and looking at and realising what you can do, and not cursing the darkness and being pulled down by thinking about what you can’t do.
Does it help? The lighting of candles? The realising of what you can do? Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Nothing, not even a cliché, is perfect.
Love and blessing from me to you.
With These Words … Part 2
Namaste and Welcome to Part 2 of this little miniseries in which I hope to tell you some more about my ‘philosophy of life’. So before we get underway with Part 2, bear with me as I quote for you the last couple of paragraphs from Part 1. (If you missed that part, you can find it here.)
After describing the vows traditionally taken by monks and nuns of various traditions (poverty, chastity, obedience, and in the case of monks and nuns committing to a specific place for life, stability).
I explained that I recently discovered how these vows have evolved for many individuals and intentional communities, and how I thought that newer interpretation summed up really nicely the way in which I aspire to live.
One renewed version [of the vows] is: Simplicity, Purity, and Accountability. In the place of Stability, there is now Presence.
While I can’t say I have taken these vows myself, it’s occurred to me that, put together, they do make a fairly precise set of principles that could be said to apply already as I attempt to live authentically as a hermit.
My idea was to look at the vows one at a time to test whether they do in fact represent the way of living I aspire to. Anyway here in Part 2 we will begin with Simplicity
Simplicity
Fingers poised. A whole lot of thinking going on. What to say about simplicity? It’s not as simple as it sounds; actually it’s quite a complicated concept. Certainly it seems that way as I begin to try and define what it means to me.
At its core it really means I live as simply as I can in a world not designed for simple living. Friends of mine have a motto: ‘Simple Living, High Thinking’, which I like a lot, and which fits with my own life.
Of course a simple life starts with looking at what one needs to live a good life which would be defined by one’s own unique needs, occupation, health, age, and all kinds of other personal factors.
For me I’ve found that it’s not really that much. Over the years I have more and more pared down material possessions; I’ve become adaptable in terms of living in small spaces (and now actually prefer it); my diet, while extremely healthy and interesting, is very simple as I’m not always always looking for variety or new ‘taste sensations’.
I buy very few clothes; again I’m not interested in having a lot of new stuff all the time, I’m very practical and just buy what I need and I am always neat and tidy (well most of the time!), and adequately clothed.
I don’t have a car, though I have in the past. Lots of reasons for this, but essentially it’s a much simpler way to live, even if sometimes I might think it’s complicated not being able to just jump in and drive anywhere you want. A car can be a big responsibility, expensive, and a pain to take care of. Certainly for me it’s been a relief, not owning cars.
My entertainments are also simple. I don’t watch TV because it’s a terrible distraction and I’ve found it’s mostly a tool for marketing of all kinds, with very little of any real value to offer.
Of course, we all know how big a distraction the Internet can be, and I’m just like you: I get sucked into scrolling and into mindless videos and the rest. I’ve found it’s a case of self discipline: sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. I try to use it as the wonderful tool it can be.
I think I mentioned somewhere else that I haven’t been to a cafe or restaurant for several years. They just don’t seem to hold any attraction anymore.
I guess this could go on and on, but basically living in simplicity is an attitude thing. And for me it’s been very much an evolutionary thing too. I try not to draw up pros and cons lists and analyse to death decisions on what to do, buy, eat, and so on. I don’t always succeed naturally!
Simplicity exists alongside the other topics we’re discussing here: they somehow work together to make a whole life. Going for the simple things sort of becomes natural to some degree. I hope that becomes clearer as we go along.
Another thing I will say about simplicity is that it’s a less impactful way of living, both personally and for the world as a whole.
Of course there are quite a few things that can’t be avoided in a world designed to make everything as multi-layered, material thing and fashion obsessed, and as profitable and ‘productive’ as possible. And simple doesn’t always mean cheap, though it has to be said that I live on quite a small income by our culture’s standards, but I would also have to say I don’t think I lack anything materially.
Actually another factor in this simplicity discussion is time. And I see now I’m using a lot of your time with this ever-lengthening post. So, before I go and get ready for Part 3, let me just say something quickly about Time and Simplicity.
For many years my health, my inclination to travel, my aversions to ‘the ways of the world’, and my tendencies to want to create, have meant I haven’t spent a lot of time in the mainstream of working life. And now I am retired.
So I believe I’ve long been given gifts of time in one way or another. But of course, just like everyone else, I can be quite good at putting the words time and pressure together. Again it’s an attitude thing that we’ll most likely talk about when we get into Presence later on. Which sounds like an oxymoron.
So, until next time
Peace and Love from me to you.
Notes from the Hermit's Cave 