Notes from the Hermit's Cave

Musings on one Hermit's life & world

Less Desires, Less Entanglements Equals More Freedom

Posted on December 13, 2024 by Notes from the Hermit's Cave

Along with many other spiritual seekers across many world cultures and over time as well, I have a more or less daily practice of opening a spiritual book, scripture, or other text ‘at random’ (as if there is such a thing) to receive a message, a lesson, or a little bit of guidance for the day.

In my case, that text has for ages now been the Bhagavad Gita. And over I think the last two or three years, one verse in particular has come up time and again, sometimes on two or three days in a row.

Much thanks to the Hermit Pilgrim who created this beautiful painting

So frequently has this occured that not only have I neglected to examine the verse in any depth, I actually began to ignore it when it came up and went right away to pick another one at random.

Well, this morning, I opened my Gita and there was that verse again – for the second day in a row. However, today, for some reason, I realised that this verse has been calling out to me. Or put it more sensibly: the Divine has been calling on me to take some notice of this verse and its meaning.

So, first of all, allow me to share with you the verse in question.

The Lord of Sri said:

It is said there is an eternal Banyan tree with its roots growing upwards and branches downwards, whose leaves are the Vedic hymns. One who knows this tree knows the Vedas

Bhagavad Gita 15:01

For me at least, this verse has always appeared quite complicated, complex really, and full of symbolism. Of course, being from an ancient religious text, it’s likely to be all those things isn’t it?

Still, despite reading the verse many times and studying and hearing a few commentaries on it, for some reason it has remained for me rather daunting. At least I can say that I was convinced of the notion that this verse confused me, entangling me in convoluted and sometimes upside down thinking.

Like the Banyan tree itself I guess. Considered especially sacred among all other sacred trees in India, the Banyan is well known for its way of growing willy nilly, every which way, until the whole thing becomes a complete and dense tangle.

And it is this tangle that is at the heart of the metaphor used to illustrate the lesson in this chapter of the Bhagavad Gita: The tree is Samsara, the illusion that is the material universe in which all of us living beings are entangled. It’s as if we’ve walked into that tangle of branches and roots believing that’s where we will achieve our desires.

A major city in the middle of tourist season is another neat metaphor for this tangle we’re talking about. We look for worldly pleasures there, but find chaos, confusion, and often unhappiness

We are so attached that we identify completely with that physical world (convinced we are merely physical beings ourselves) and are convinced that this is where we can fulfill all our needs.

As the verse says, the leaves of the tree are the Vedas, and one who knows the tree, knows the Vedas. The Vedas are the sacred Hindu scriptures which in this context can be said to represent knowledge. But not knowledge of a mundane ‘ordinary’ kind.

The knowledge to realise (because we already possess this knowledge, we just aren’t aware of it yet) is that we are not the body, so we have no need to be bound to the tree of Samsara with its suffering and its endless entanglements. It is Self Knowledge.

This Self Knowledge leads us to develop what a following verse calls ‘the weapon of detachment’ with which we can chop down this very strong tree of attachments and illusions

A little note: I don’t like this weapon and chopping metaphor at all. I simply pass it on to you as written.

As we begin and progress with this process of truly realizing we aren’t the body, and therefore have no need to identify with or be attached to worldly objects and desires, then slowly the tangle binding us begins to clear, to fall away bit by bit.

I din’t think we need to actually get to that point of cutting down the whole tree before we begin to see results. to reap the benefits if you want to put it that way.

Each and every small thing, desire, compulsion or aversion we no longer feel ourselves bound to, frees us just that much more.

As with any tangle we get ourselves caught up in, once we loosen that first thread (to switch metaphors), the task of unravelling becomes easier.

It’s true – and I think I’ve mentioned it previously – some of my attachments and compulsions are loosening. Some (small ones I admit) have fallen away completely.

As you read in my little note, I’m not comfortable with the whole cutting down trees with weapons metaphor. Perhaps the loosening of threads, the unravelling of tangles and knots sits better with us.

Perhaps my – our? – efforts at detaching from the desires and aversions, from the compulsions for worldly things and objects, and for sense pleasures, can be achieved by a more gentle untying we could call it. A kinder, gentler, calmer, friendlier, means to realizing we are already free.

Are the Hermit Pilgrims Settling Down?

Posted on December 1, 2024 by Notes from the Hermit's Cave

Stand by for an announcement:

The Hermit Pilgrims have signed a lease for the rent of a house for a year. Not only have we signed a lease, we have, in fact as of yesterday, been residing in the said leased property.

Admittedly, it’s exactly the sort of small house which we had in fact been longing for for some time. It’s got many characteristics that make it for us, the ideal site for a hermitage: we even have a temple room!

The lease is for a year initially, and if, after a year we feel led to move on, then that’s what we shall do. But for now, – as in the present moment that is the ongoing now, the only ‘time’ one can talk about with any meaning or truth – we will be in the one hermitage, the one safehaven by the side of the road, for a longer period than in any other in the last many years.

Anyway, enough of this reflection on the nature of time; the big question on your mind I am sure is why? Well, the first little thing to say is that the pilgrimage goes on; it’s just that we’ve taken a tiny step towards the vow of stability many monks and nuns make as a matter of course. We’ve not really ever taken such a vow before. Mind you, a lease is a binding document, I wonder does that count as a vow?

Of course, as I’ve just laboriously spelled out, there is only the moment, the ongoing now; so who can possibly say about ‘a year’?

Next, let me tell you a bit about a book I’ve read a few times and like very much. It will possibly give you a flavour of the why.

Cave in the Snow by Vicki Mackenzie tells the story of Tenzin Palmo, a Tibetan Buddhist nun and her, I think, twelve years in solitu6de in a nearly all year round snowed in cave in the high Himalayas.

Tenzin Palmo had been living in a rather remote monastery, but felt after some years the need for greater isolation and solitude. The monastery was too busy and noisy, with all sorts of comings and goings.

There was too much entanglement with the greater society in the form of the surrounding villages and town. She wanted some quiet basically

In an interview sometime after she came down from the mountains she was asked if going to a cave was perhaps an escape, an ‘evasion of the trials of an “ordinary” life. Her reply spoke to me when I first read it about 20 (or more?) years ago, and still does today:

‘Not at all. To my mind worldly life is an escape,’ she replied to the interviewer. ‘When you have a problem you can turn on the television, phone a friend, go out for a coffee. In a cave, however, you have no one to turn to but yourself.

You have no choice, she says, when problems come up, and when things get tough, but to go through with them, till you come out the other side.

‘In a cave,’ she said, ‘ you face your own nature in the raw, you have to find a way of working with it and dealing with it.’

My situation is not quite like hers. For example there is more than one person in our community of hermits. Still her story does resonate and speaks very much to my own situation.

Not only is there never going to be any absolute certainty in our material world, there is never – ever – going to be anything in the realm of worldly things that will deliver us perfect peace and lasting happiness.

Easy to repeat, this tidbit of transcendental knowledge, but quite another to get oneself unattached to the idea that, well, maybe, just maybe, the next big thing, might just be different, might indeed be the forever answer to peace and happiness.

And it’s that attachment that I’m tackling at the moment.You see I long for a more pure hermit life, a life with a lot less engagement – and entanglement with – worldly things and situations.

I once wrote in a poem called Seeking Noble Truths or Just Passing Through that ‘longing is loss’, and it is, if one is attached or clings to the object of desire, or an outcome being exactly as is envisaged. Not being attached means less disappointment, less suffering, if as often happens, life does its thing and the outcome is not what we hoped it would be.

But here’s the thing: the bonds of my attachments in this area are loosening a little, bit by bit. And the paradox isn’t lost on me either: As I ‘settle’ into our (supposedly) longer term hermitage, I will, I hope, come closer to a point of stillness, of equanimity, and of silence. I will inch even closer to that state where attachments will all just fall away.

Now, in no particular order of priority or preference, I’ll try to convey in words some of the reasons we’re opting to continue our pilgrimage in a more long-term hermitage.

To be honest, as hard as I try to be present, to just live here and now, I just like the vast majority of my fellow human beings, find it extremely difficult to not be pulled ahead to the future (or dragged back to the past for that matter).

No sooner have we moved into a new hermitage, then we feel we have to start shopping around for the next one. Of course, one can’t ignore the practicalities, but for me it goes way beyond being a sensible planner.

And to be perfectly frank (I wonder who this ‘frank’ is anyway?) we’ve tired of it. The looking, the thinking, the talking and emailing to prospective places. It’s actually quite boring, to be stuck on that kind of merry-go-round .

It’s also extremely distracting. It gets in the way of our efforts to calm and quieten our minds for extended and deeper meditation and contemplation. Not to mention the ongoing (seems endless sometimes) discussions of the pros and cons of decisions to be made, as well as the frustrating second guessing I’m famous for.

We all know from experience that there is never going to be any absolute certainty in anything we arrange in our lives. Of course I know very well that even a signed, sealed and delivered legally binding contract or lease, means very little if the parties involved put their minds to it or change plans somewhere along the way.

All things in the material world are relative, and always subject to change; there’s nothing we can do to bend that natural law. Given such a context we still feel okay about entering with a right-hearted intention, this agreement for a year (at least) in the new hermitage.

As the residents of the hermitage are prone to say really quite often: ‘Your will, not mine, be done’.

Then, when life does its thing, I’ll be more able to roll with it. Why? Because I will (hopefully) have better learned that it’s not my will that’s to be done, but the Divine Will, the natural law and order of the Universe.

So, If it be your will…

Japa in the Dunes

Posted on November 6, 2024 by Notes from the Hermit's Cave

Japa, or the chanting of the names of God or the Divine, is a central spiritual practice for me. In fact, as time goes by, it becomes even more important for me as I try to spend more time chanting than not!

With Japa in mind I climbed yesterday to the crest of the sand dune on which our current hermitage is situated, to spend a while with the sea and the dunefield flowers, the birds, and as I planned to be doing some chanting, also with those unseen aspects of the Divine that I would be addressing with my words.

As seems to be happening quite often these days when I immerse myself in the beauty that is to be found all around me, all that is to be seen and experienced ‘up there’ as it’s come to be called, a poem wrote itself about yesterday’s particular excursion and experience.

I share it with you now in the hope you will enjoy reading it; thank you for reading it!

SAND DUNE KIRTAN

Perched upon the crest of a sand dune,
I chant the names of the Lord
Hare Krishna Hare Krishna
Hare Rama Hare Rama

I am still; the Lord’s names vibrate in my mind.
But Varuna’s energy washes saltwater back and forth
in the middle distance.
Sea waves manifest from depths unknown.
Sea waves dissolve on the shore
in the middle distance.

Now, in the near distance,
near to me where I rest and chant on sacred ground,
flowers with yellow heads, purple heads, wave in the wind
as if ecstatically dancing to a holy Kirtan
gifted them by the wind.

These myriad jewels in the dunefield join me in my japa.
Or is it that I merge with their sacred dances?

It’s neither, and yet it’s both:
The beautiful blooms are me,
and I am them.
We are the One,
Chanting and dancing
the names of the One.

Why do I Pray?

Posted on November 5, 2024 by Notes from the Hermit's Cave

‘Why do you pray?’ I ask myself. It’s not a rhetorical question: I really do want to know; it’s one of those big ‘Who am I?’ kind of questions.

‘I pray because I pray,’ I hear myself answer, sounding as if I am indeed responding to a rhetorical question.

‘So’, one might think (as I well might and sometimes do) ‘you pray without any ulterior motive at all? You don’t pray to get things? You don’t pray for healing for others or yourself? You don’t pray for peace and happiness for the world or yourself? None of these things?’

These are good, valid questions. And the answer is of course I do; of course I pray for healing for others and myself; I do pray for communal and personal peace. And happiness? Well who doesn’t pray in one way or another for happiness?

I do, however draw the line at praying for material things like money and physical objects to possess, that sort of thing. I believe I don’t pray for ‘things’. I think so anyway.

So, what do I mean when I say ‘I pray because I pray’? Well, it’s not so much that it isn’t true, its just that at this moment that praying for praying’s sake isn’t the whole of life activity that I would like it to be. I would say it is a core aspiration that I am working towards.

You see, I want to pray, and to make my whole life a prayer. A prayer of praise and devotion; a prayer of gratitude and loving; and a prayer of service to all living beings.

If that’s the aspiration, then how come I’m still praying for all that other stuff of the world? Healing, peace, happiness, and the rest? How does that work one might ask (as I might and sometimes do ask myself).

Here’s what I’ve figured out so far: I have a strong sense that any prayers or prayerful activities I might make, are like vibrations, or ripples that interact with the vibrations and ripples emanating from countless, infinite even, other beings and from the fabric of the Universe itself.

In other words, not only the ‘created’ Universe, but the consciousness that is the origin and cause of the Universe, which is in reality life and love itself. Prayet is a way, I think, to make manifest an already existent link or union with what the hermits call the ‘Invisible Community’.

For example, if I’m chanting my mantra at any time day or night, I know that there are at least tens of thousands, if not millions of other beings all over the Universe doing exactly the same thing.

What I’m trying to say here is that, until I reach that pure state of making my prayer solely for prayer’s sake, for praise, devotion, gratitude, then it’s okay that I still pray for things that speak of a clinging still to the world (within my own boundaries of course!).

After all, all those creatures in who knows how many worlds and realms, all praying at the same time? There are some very powerful vibrations we’re talking about here.

I’ve been studying and thinking abut Bhakti – the absolute pure love for and devotion to God – for a while now. And, for me, God is all those other living beings and the Universe itself (or better to say, all that exists, which I might add includes me!). So, in that sense praying for healing, for peace, for happiness, well, it’s good for us all.

Another Poetic Offering: Birds in the Bushes

Posted on October 20, 2024 by Notes from the Hermit's Cave

‘I like writing reverent things,’ I said to my partner Hermit. I’d just shown her a poem I had written about a walk earlier in the day on the track on the crest of the sand dune near the hermitage.

Yes, it’s true I thought later. I do write around themes of solemn respect, deep praise, of love, of appreciation of beauty, of devotional things. About my devotion to all that is Divine – which of course is eveything that is!

The walk began as a bit of a struggle, a bit challenging, though the challenge was eased somewhat by some winged friends. I know I’ve been writing a bit about angels lately, but this time the winged ones were birds. Mind you, angels can and do take many forms. Perhaps those birds were angels after all!

Anyway, as I recorded the original version while still ‘slogging’ through the sand on the track, I did so without intention. But, what emerged is, in my heart, a song of praise for those winged friends.

BIRDS IN THE BUSHES

Lumbering and stumbling, sometimes shambling
through deep and shifting drifts of sand
along coastal track
on the crest of dune.
Slow going on the track. Plodding.

But there are birds in the bushes
alongside the track.
Birds in the bushes twitter their encouragement.
Is it twitter? Is it tweeter?
Is it twirp? Twirping?
Are they twirping? Are they trilling?

In any case, there is encouragement in their serenade.
So, I continue on.
Plodding still
but a little lighter.

When One Word is Actually Two & Becomes One Again

Posted on October 8, 2024 by Notes from the Hermit's Cave

‘It’s good practis/ce sitting out here.’ So said my partner hermit as we sat sipping post evening meal tea on our little front porch that happens to face exactly due west.

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask: ‘Do you mean it’s a good thing (practice) to be doing regularly as in Sadhana, a spiritual practice? In other words is it a good habit to cultivate?

‘Or do you mean it’s good as a kind of training – as practise – in improving our ability to sit in quiet and stillness?’

As I say, these questions were on the tip of my tongue, but then: Blog Alert!!. So, in a rare moment of triumph I managed to hold my tongue (metaphorically speaking) and let those questions sift through my mind so that later (it’s now the next day) a post to share with you might emerge.

So, here we are, setting the scene for this post. I know it’s about words, about language. Semantics is what it could be about, given that it’s about words and their meanings.

But, aren’t words simply symbols for the things they describe or represent? And so often semantics involves quibbles over meanings.

So let’s not make this about semantics, no quibbling required here. You see what set off the Blog Alert!!! was that here was the one word, that is actually two distinct words each with their own meanings, that just happen to sound alike.

Still no quibbling though: we don’t need to pick and choose between meanings – actual and/or intended. Two words, two symbols, two meanings (one for each word that is), so we can choose not to choose – remember no quibbling.

We can realise that in the context, both words are equal and correct. Both may be acknowledged as being meaningful to and in the moment, to the situation.

Lately I think I’ve been saying quite a lot about silence quiet – quietude – peace and calm. Stillness also. All are the same thing: all are states in which we might realise the truth of our natures as divine.

Anyway, we had just finished our evening meal, and now sat with tea, having just witnessed the last remnants of the sun sink below the horizon (or was it the horizon coming up to meet and finally hide the sun?).

Quietly sitting, relaxing you might say, in post sunset peace and quiet, with only the occasional and softly spoken conversation going on.

Then that comment from my partner hermit, sharing that sitting as we were is good practis/ce.

Certainly for one such as me who has great difficulties in being quiet, being still, and cultivating silence, such occasions of quiet sitting (with tea naturally) is excellent practise, good training in the changing of long-established and conditioned habits and behaviours.

And, as such, it is a most excellent practice to cultivate, a great thing to do (I’d say action to take, but somehow that feels not quite right) to cultivate stillness and silence. I’ve written elsewhere that to cultivate or to rediscover silence is to realise that silence already existent as the divine, as consciousness, as all and everything.

My partner hermit is one of the wise ones, a sage. One spoken word that actually contains two words, two symbols, each with its own meaning, that finally merge into One.

No quibbling.

The Q&A in the Scripture: Part 2

Posted on October 7, 2024 by Notes from the Hermit's Cave

Namaste

And welcome to Part 2 of The Q&A in the Scripture series in which we are looking at the answers given by Krishna to a list of questions asked by his cousin Uddhava in a scripture called the Uddhava Gita.

Remember the scene? Uddhava has asked Krishna a pile of questions about how to live a good life, how to live in the world with discernment.

These questions have become urgent because the cousins are about to leave their hometown which is on the brink of war. Both will be going their separate ways and both know they won’t be seeing each other for a while – perhaps never again.

Anyway, moving right along: In our last installment, we had Uddhava asking the first of his questions; this one happens to have two parts:

What is quietude and what is self-control?

We discovered that quietude is not the state in which one finds peace, silence, our true selves, or the Divine, but is itself that consciousness, that pervades and permeates all that is, silence, peace. In other words, quietude is the Divine itself.

In the present post, we move to the second of Uddhava’s two-part question: what is self-control? Krishna’s answer is excellently short and sweet:

Dama (self-control) is restraint of the senses.

Krishna in his response, makes it clear that restraining the (one’s own) senses includes mind as a kind of sixth sense in addition to the five physical senses. In the context you could almost say that it’s his mind that Uddhava is in most need of restraining. Maybe that’s the message for all of us?

Well, we are all well aware of the ways in which we have tried to control our senses; Uddhava knows too. But look at the situation these two cousins find themselves in:

It’s fine for Krishna: he’s returning home to Heaven, or wherever. But, Uddhava, who is also about to leave, is facing more uncertain prospects. He’s experiencing great turmoil, and fear over his and his familiy’s safety as the threat of war closes in. Most likely he’s also grieving over having to go into exile from his ancestral home.

Of course he’d be fearful for the future: where will he go? What will he do? How will he protect and provide for his family? Like I said, an onslaught of mental and emotional anguish.

Still, it does seem that Uddhava is maintaining quite a steady presence of mind. He’s thinking about the future; he is clear about the sort of stuff he needs to find out from his cousin (remember Krishna is God) in order to put and keep his life on the right track despite the challenges facing him now and in the future.

Then there’s the fact that this self-control thing is only one question on a list of 36. Clearly Uddhava is looking for a lot of advice.

Restrain the senses – all six of them – Krishna says. But how? What does it mean, ‘restrain the senses’? I think I alluded to the notion that we all have some ideas, some clues, about how we as individuals might restrain them, but let’s personalise this: What does it mean for me to restrain my senses?

Actually, now I’ve made that suggestion, I feel overwhelmed: Where would I start? Surely I need to do a whole series of posts, just on this one topic alone?

Oh wait, I can start right there. Exaggeration, hyperbole, over-dramatising, catastrophizing, all perfect examples of emotional reactions leaping from an unrestrained senses central: my mind.

Let’s put aside that mental stuff for a little while, and just say that all those emotional responses could do with a bit more restraining training. Just looking at the physical senses to begin with, I can easily say that they also, at least some of them sometimes, need various degrees of working on.

First, my sense of taste: it goes into overdrive sometimes, and then I eat too much. Not so much as in the past, but the restraint has a way to go still.

My sense of sight is pretty good, well restrained for the most part. But there are times when I lapse into old habits and spend too much time looking at a screen and scrolling in a mindless kind of way. Getting there though!

As for my sense of hearing: You might remember a post from a while ago when I talked about letting go of much of my music collection, some of which I’ve listened to my whole life. I’m doing this because so much of what used to be ‘my favourite’ songs or artists, no longer serve my spiritual growth, nor does much of it reflect the view of life and the world that I’m trying to cultivate.

Well, I’ve made a good start, but occasionally I slip and find myself humming old tunes, or listening to an album that I really ‘should have’ deleted already. Restrained? Sort of, and I’m still encouraged.

Enough! Let’s get straight to the biggie: my mind. If I’m honest, I have to say that my mind, while not exactly in full agreement with my efforts at restraint, is starting to get into sync with me and my aspirations for a more controlled mind.

But still, those previously mentioned emotional reactions like exaggeration, over-dramatising and the rest, are still there. Falling into line, it’s true, still … .

Then there is the (more than) occasional first port of call reactions to pieces of news of various kinds: I’m prone to ask, just as I imagine Uddhava might have: Why don’t ‘they’ control themselves? Why can’t he or she or such and such country or politician show a little restraint?

Yes, I know, we’re all guilty of this one to some degree or other.

My quickness to anger is not quite, but almost, might soon be, won’t be long before it is, a thing of the past.

Then, there’s my tendency to ruminate: rehash endlessly real and imagined events and other stuff from the past – as well as the always imagined possibilities (as well as the impossibilities) for the future.

Again, I know I’m not alone in this emotional roller coaster ride, and I do know that I am nowhere near as much of a ruminator as I was; I have made great strides, significant inroads, and I am encouraged that the end of rumination is getting closer!

And now, here is the one thing I tend to think of one of my biggest, most tiresome and tedious, most annoying conditioned emotional responses: I talk too much. Not as much as I used to, but still too much for my comfort, and for the peace of mind of those around me. More restraint is called for.

Restraint has played its part in reducing my talking. But in a sense the major ally has been the ongoing quest I’m engaged in to discover my true nature, as consciousness, which is really my oneness with all that is.

And here our second question and answer leads us right back to the first: quietude.

I wrote in that post:

Quietude, calmness, peace of mind, are not where you will find God, consciousness, or whatever we call it. Quietude and the rest are God. They are consciousness.

Or putting it the other way round: cultivate silence, calm, peace of mind, and your senses will no longer need to be restrained. Your whole Self, including body and mind, will then be resting in Quietude, in your true nature.

That’s why I think these two questions are asked and answered together: Each leads to the other: by restraining our senses we are more easily able to achieve a state of calm, quiet, some level of peace of mind – in other words, Quietude.

Bright Lights on the Dunefields

Posted on October 1, 2024 by Notes from the Hermit's Cave

Namaste and Welcome friends.

A poem for your reading pleasure. Written on site today in response to an experience while out walking on the dunes next to the hermitage.

I’m including a photo I made a few weeks ago of the exact place where the poem was written,

And many loving thanks to my partner hermit for the sketch made in the same area today (synchronistically it was made unknown to me and vica versa)

Please enjoy.

Love from Paul the Hermit

BRIGHT LIGHTS IN THE DUNEFIELDS

Today. On the Ocean Track.
Daily hiking across the top of the dunefields.
Not so sure-footed,
I trudge heavy-footed.

As I pass by, there are bright lights in the dunefields.
I pause in my passing as my eyes are drawn
(or is it my heart?)
to the bright lights in the dunefields.

I feast my senses upon
the bright lights in the dunefields.
They bless me, these bright lights.
They sing to me; they speak to me.

In my silence, I hear them.
But I hear not voices.
I see them.
But I see not colours, shapes or forms.

What I see, I see.
I see me, I see you.
They see me,
the bright lights in the dunefields.

They see you; can you see them?
These bright lights in the dunefields.

We are all bright lights in the dunefields.

On a Pilgrim’s Way

Posted on September 29, 2024 by Notes from the Hermit's Cave

Today I went on a pilgrimage.Not that I don’t undertake all kinds of little pilgrimages all the time. And even more, it’s not as if my whole life – just like yours and everyone else’s – isn’t one ongoing and continuing pilgrimage.

All true; but this one, today, was embarked upon in what might be called, a classic manner: on foot, to a place of sacred significance, and in a spirit of contemplation of the nature of the journey as well on that which is being pilgrimed too. (I am positive there is no such word!)

In this case, today’s pilgrimage, that place was a church about two and a half kilometres from the hermitage. It’s a place I have visited several time, but today was the first time I set out as a pilgrim and walked in the way and spirit of the pilgrim.

Our Lady of the Rosary is a Catholic church dedicated to the Mother of Jesus in her role as patron of the Holy Rosary, a Catholic way of prayer that has evolved over time and is a key part of the lives of many Catholic people.

Just to the right, just inside the door there is a plain brick wall in which there is a small niche. The niche holds an almost life-size statue of Mary. She stands, hands folded over her chest on which sits the Dove of Peace.

You can see from the photo that the church itself is a lovely, quiet, serene place full of good vibes and nice peaceful energies. The object, however, of my pilgrimage was not the church in itself, but stood just inside the side door accessed through an equally peaceful, fountain centred garden.

I have come to offer her – this form or manifestation of the Divine Mother – the prayer I wrote to her which I hope you saw when I posted it on this blog recently.

I had decided that my pilgrimage vow would be fulfilled once I had knelt at her feet and offered her the words of my heart in prayer.

My reverence for the Divine Mother is well known, and especially in her form as Mary the Mother of Jesus. Or Our Lady as we called her as good little Catholic children way back in the long ago. And I know I have said often that the entirety of the material and non-material cosmos is a manifestation of the Divine.

So, why then a special trip on foot, that I’m labeling a pilgrimage to a specific site, so I can kneel at the feet of a statue that I know perfectly well is made of stone or plaster and is simply a symbol of one aspect of the Divine?

Actually, the question has answered itself. The pilgrimage and my associated actions worded in that question tell us the why.

It is about acknowledging at a heart level and in my own way, that that symbol, that form, is actually representing a particular aspect of the Divine that I revere.

Besides, I’m not the first person who’s knelt at that spot, at Mary’s feet. I don’t know the age of the church, nor do I know the history of that particular statue, but I think we can say for certain that many hundreds, if not thousands of other people have been there where I was and spoken words from their hearts.

Being honest and true now, what I can say is that, as I said to my partner hermit: ‘I feel like i’ve been on a pilgrimage’.

And I do. I’ve walked – praying and chanting – to a sacred place where I have prayed at the feet of the Divine in the form of a likeness of Mary. I feel blessed that I actually got to offer the prayer I wrote to the Divine Mother.

Somehow I feel a link was established. A heart (mine) opened ever so slightly. I acknowledged the Divine, and I sense that I might just be – ever so slightly again! – topped up with a bit of the Grace that is in reality our true state.

Mary in the Garden (enhanced by a fellow Hermit Pilgrim.
Thank you)

So, this is the story of my pilgrimage. I was absolutely exhausted when I arrived back at the hermitage. Most likely that was due to the heat, the traffic, and the noise encountered on the way I trod.

But, now I’ve shared this little tale with you, I’m not tired. Anyway, the Way is not always easy, and we are all very well aware of that aren’t we?

Namaste friends. The Divine in me salutes the Divine in you.

It’s a walk to take,

a pilgrimage to make.

Sometime soon.

Said by me long ago, I don’t know when or where. It was one of those ‘You’re a poet and don’t know it’ moments.

Peace!

The Q&A in the Scripture Part 1

Posted on September 27, 2024 by Notes from the Hermit's Cave

Welcome to the first in a short – and occasional – series centred on a text containing a kind of Q & A session between Krishna (God) and Uddhava (his cousin).

Thirty six questions in all, with which Uddhava asks Krishna how he can live a good and honest life, dedicated to doing right and living the truth.

If you haven’t already, it would be really helpful if you read the Introduction post here, before going much further; just so you have a better handle on the context, the background etc. It will just help to set the scene a little more.

Now that’s been said, let’s get on and into it. The very first question Uddhava puts to Krishna is actually two questions in one.

What is quietude and self-control

Good questions, the both of them, given the circumstances Uddhava finds himself in. His hometown (it’s Krishna’s too) is about to descend into a nasty civil war and is most likely a chaotic, noisy, overwhelming and frightening environment to be stuck in.

Uddhava, like the rest of us just wants a peaceful life, and as to the second question, well he’s bound to be asking himself the same question we’d ask: Why can’t these people just control themselves before it’s too late? Not to mention the onslaught of emotional and mental anguish he’d be suffering himself.

Anyway, Uddhava is about to leave town following his cousin’s advice, and would like to find out how he can go on to live a good, righteous and honest life, while he’s in exile from his home.

Krishna chooses (sensibly I’d say: they’re both big questions) to answer one question at a time and he begins by explaining what is quietude:

Quietude is fixing the mind on me.

Krishna is not saying here: ‘Look, once I’m gone [I think I’ve mentioned that he’s leaving too, going back to Heaven or wherever he lives on a permanent basis] try to remember your dear old cuz in the odd quiet moment now and again will you?’

What I think he is actually saying is: ‘If you fix your mind on me, then that’s quietude’. We could call it silence as well. He’s not saying ‘I am in the silence’, nor is he saying ‘Through silence (or quietude) you will come closer to me’. No, what he says is ‘Quietude is what I am’.

So, what about those of us not in a first names relationship with Krishna? Well, think of Krishna as being a name and form of Universal Consciousness. Yes, the same Universal Consciousness that is all created and non-created things; the sun, Earth herself, trees, the oceans, all living and non-living beings in the Universe, in all universes if there are more than one.

There are a whole list of synonyms for quietude: equanimity, calmness, peace of mind, rest, serenity, dispassion. Just to name a few.

These further definitions are really quite helpful. What I mean to say is that we rarely if ever associate that calmness, equanimity, peace, and the rest, with actually being the Universal Consciousness, that is also all of us and everything else that is. Again, think of Consciousness as the Divine, God, or by any other name and form, you attribute to the natural order and flow of the Universe.

Forgive the repetition : Quietude, calmness, peace of mind, are not where you will find God or consciousness, or whatever. They are all consciousness.

Have I mentioned that the current hermitage is a cottage on the side of a large sand dune, on the other side of which is a stunning stretch of Pacific Coast beach. Sitting on the top of the dune and looking out over the beach and ocean it is easy to think of all that’s seen as divine.

It is most definitely a peace of mind, calm and quiet inducing experience to sit there. Certainly it is quietude itself with the only sounds being the song of the universe in the form of the waves and wind.

A question I asked myself, and I now pose to you: If what we’ve been calling Universal Consciousness is actually all that is, then why not a state of mind like quietude, calmness, balance, and the rest? Like everything else perhaps these states are simply elements of that consciousness or Absolute Reality, or oneness, or what some call God, the Divine, or … ?

In any case, I have a feeling that’s what Krishna was getting at with his answer, and what Uddhava somehow intuited with his question.

Thank you for joining me on this little pilgrimage. in the next post in this series (it could appear anytime, so stay tuned!) we will discuss Krishna’s answer to Uddhava’s second question: What is self-control?

Peace