The Lion Sleeps Tonight. That’s the song name I always think of. Sometimes you might hear it called Wimoweh. While it’s the song’s Zulu title, it’s actually not a real word: it references a mishearing (and subsequent recording by a group in the early ’50s) of Uyimube (the original chorus) which is Zulu for you are a lion.
In any case, I feel like I’ve known the song all my life. I suppose I have: it was a smash hit when I was seven or eight years old. It’s been one of those songs that have stuck, become a constant presence, to be hummed occasionally, to be sung even less frequently, heard rarely, but loved and familiar.
Anyway, recently (in March I think) my affection for the song surfaced. I was thinking about something my partner hermit had said about creativity and suddenly the melody to The Lion Sleeps Tonight came into mind.
That melody, and my memory of the lyrics then became integral to the poem I wrote to express some of my thoughts about my partner hermit’s statement. It helped me say what I had to say.
I hope you like it – the song – Listen to the Tokens doing their version from 1961; check out the lyrics too. It’s a happy song, a reassuring song of safety and love.
With that I humbly offer my poem. Enjoy
THE HERMITS SLEEP TONIGHT
A creative way to start the day. A prayerful way, a prayerful way.
In Samsara’s jungle there is a village, a suburban village. A prayerful way, a prayerful way.
Near the village – no, in the village the hermits sleep tonight. A prayerful way, a prayerful way.
The walled enclosure, their very own paradise, like a castle keep, keeps them safe. A peaceful way, a peaceful way.
Hush my sisters; hush my brothers. No need to fear the jungle. A prayerful way, a prayerful way.
Day breaks; Surya rises. A prayerful way, a prayerful way.
Sleeping hermits gather, to break the fast. A prayerful way, a prayerful way.
Fast broken, sacred tea imbibed. A prayerful way, a prayerful way
The hermits begin, begin their day of prayer.
A creative way to start the day. A prayerful way, a prayerful way.
‘You must be sick in the head,’ replies, as quick as you like, his partner hermit of 40 odd years. (Obviously an old and oft shared joke).
‘Of course I’m sick in the head,’ bursts out of the hermit in response. ‘It’s like saying the sun comes up every morning. It’s a given, a simple fact of life.’
Problem is, it’s not true is it? the sun I mean; it doessn’t come up does it? Doesn’t go down either for that matter. I mean it looks like it rises up every morning, and it looks like it goes down every night. But it doesn’t. In reality it’s us here on planet Earth who are doing the turning.
At ‘sunrise’, our home planet in its continual revolving has us looking at a stationary star (our Sun, Sol, Surya) that is, rather than going up, just sits there as we revolve downwards leaving it behind, Same story at night with the sunset, just the other way round.
Our experience when looking at this scene is that the sun is going down behind the hills. But in reality it’s the hills and river and the viewer going up as Earth rovolves. Hard to get one’s head around.
To explain what we see, what we experience – or rather what our ancestors saw and sought to explain – the simplest, most obvious thing to do is tell it like we see it. Sounds obvious enough, but as we’ve just seen, the story we inherited and which was only recently (in historical terms that is) shown to be incorrect, of the rising and the setting of the sun was based on an illusion,
As to the hermit and his story – the long-held believed to be true story – well, if we’ve been able to establish that stories we tell ourselves are often based on illusions, then perhaps the hermit can look for another story concerning the state of his head health, that is based a little more on facts, not so much on illusion.
Or to put it in other words: It’s quite possible that if the truth of the matter is that the sun never goes up and never goes down, then just maybe the hermit is not actually sick in the head.
Except perhaps when it comes to old jokes shared between beloved partner hermits.
Just now (as in earlier today) I had some perfectly natural, normal, and expected thoughts about my prayer life. If I’m to be honest though, and perhaps a tad overly tough on myself, the thoughts I had felt slightly ridiculous given my professed commitment to praying constantly, and my supposed understanding of the meaning and function of prayer. In other words, there I was again: putting some kind of unrealistic expectations on myself – again!
Anyway, enough of that. To sum up those thoughts: I was thinking they – my prayers – aren’t working. Nothing is happening. And I was asking myself questions: What’s been achieved? What’s coming from all the effort? Where are the results?
And then, exactly at the moment I was writing down those thoughts and questions, I lifted my eyes from my notebook to see my partner-hermit approaching.
‘It’s my blessing at the moment,’ she said walking by my chair.
Why did she say that?
Because, right there before my eyes was evidence that none of my ridiculous thoughts and questions on my prayer life, had any meaning whatsoever. There was the answer, walking past me.
Surrender is a key issue for our community of Hermits. Surrender in the sense of, to put it really simply, how to just go with the flow; how to recognise that the universe moves as it does, and how might we fully realise that while we do what we can, playing our part, in the final analysis, life unfolds as it does.
Like I guess, most people we often have trouble accepting the so-called realities of life like bodily changes, world events that sadden, shock or outrage us. You know what I’m talking about. We just like stuff to work out just as we would prefer, and when it doesn’t? Well that’s when we suffer; we get angry, frustrated or sad or otherwise affected emotionally and even physically. Again you know what I mean.
Courtesy of our resident artist
‘The will of God’ or ‘the will of the Universe’ are common recommendations for surrendering to. But of course ‘God’ or the ‘Universe’ have no will of their own; it simply is what it is, and follows the laws of nature, the natural order of life the Universe and everything as has been famously said time and again.
So, a small poetic offering on just that theme of surrender. This time asking: surrender to whom or to what? The answer I come up with is perhaps not as far out as it might first appear when you read it. Maybe we’ll do a post looking more deeply at that one.
Anyway, please accept my small offering.
WE SHALL SURRENDER UNTO WHOM?
To whom, or to what shall we surrender? We are hermits; we dwell in a hermitage. Here are our cells, our Paradise. A walled enclosure unto which we may surrender.
I feel like talking more … Sorry. Start again. It’s not what it seems and, well rather than get into it now, just read on a bit and all shall become clear.
Anyway, there’s an old joke that goes like this: One friend says to another friend: ‘How come you’re always talking to yourself?’ To which the second friend replies: ‘Well, you see, I always like to talk to the most intelligent person in the room, so I look around and usually I find that it’s me. So I end up talking to myself’.
Okay, maybe not so funny. Could be taken as bad manners or rude come to think of it. But that’s how jokes often are isn’t it?
Anyway, and here we get to the little bit of clarity I promised, you’re probably going to remind me that I have often said I would like to talk less, and be quiet more often.
That’s still true, but this is different. You see, lately I’ve been feeling the need to talk more about various aspects of my ‘inner life’. You know the sort of thing: confusions and worries; niggling issues bugging me; that kind of stuff.
And my community hear and experience quite enough of my inner life, with its contradictions, mood swings, and the rest; I have no intention of being more of a burdon than I probably already am.
So, I look around and ask who’s left? Me! Myself! I! Not exactly the most intelligent person in the room, so there the joke breaks down, but it does indeed look like I might end up talking to myself after all.
Well, it’s kind of a yes and no sort of thing. ‘Myself’ is the individual with this mind and body, making these words appear on the screen. It’s the ego self, the me that’s the being who walks, talks, breathes, and … Well you know what else.
But, and this is the brilliant bit, if I separate the words to read My Self, will it’s a whole other story. For a start, Self is not ‘mine’. Self is that part of me that is consciousness; and it’s not a different entity than ‘your’ consciousness, or anyone or anything else’s.
So, if I start talking to this Self that’s actually anyone and everyone, and not just me, who is it that I am in fact talking to?
Sounds to me like I’d be talking to you, and you, and everyone else; to the trees, the birds; everybody!
And yes, that’s exactly right. For me, there is only Self – consciousness – that is indeed anyone, anything, everyone, and everything in the Universe, both seen and unseen.
In other words, I’d be talking to God; the Divine; the Absolute Reality; the Thou Art That described by at least one of the world’s great spiritual traditions.
Which is to say, I want – need – to spend some more time talking to, and in conversation with, God.
Phew. I’m glad I figured that out.
You might remember the prayer I wrote a while ago to the Divine Mother? Seems like a good place to share it with you again.
Varuna and Surya. the Hindu deities of sky and all Earth’s waters (Varuna), and our sun (Surya). These names resonate for me. I like how such great natural phenomena fundamental to our existence on this planet, can be ‘personalised’ in this way.
I find that having acquired symbolic or representational names for sky, water, and sun, has allowed me to somehow relate to the inherent giving and preserving of the energies that power all life that water, sky, and sun provide in a prayerful, thankful way. Kind of makes it personal.
Let me put aside for a moment the obvious scientific reality that tells us we can’t live long without water, can’t live at all without the gases in our atmosphere, and if the sun goes dark for whatever length of time it is, then all life ceases to exist.
How many times have I stood in awe watching a sunset?
Or watched as big waves rolled in with a surfer hoping for a ride?
How many times have I welcomed the sound of rain on a roof and the sight of it nourishing trees or other life
And how many times have I sat on or walked along a riverbank feeling uplifted and a little more grounded?
Many, many times is the short answer. Varuna and Surya are constant presences in our lives. And I am grateful for the life-giving and life-sustaining natures of their existence.
Sharing with you today, a little poetic expression of one of those times when sky, water, and sun, gave me just a little more than those fundamental material energies.
ONCE AGAIN VARUNA AND SURYA
Once again, Varuna and Surya are coming to make rescue. They arrive on – as in fact they are – the currents and eddies of the river of life. In this way, the natural order remains in motion.
Shared with love
from Paul the hermit
Flow river go, past the shady tree. Flow river flow, flow to the sea. Flow river flow, flow to the sea.
Thanks to Roger McGuinn for one of the classic flowing on a river songs.
Anyone who has tried to meditate for more than a minute, knows very well that the mind right away jumps into overdrive, trying its hardest to keep us nice and distracted; anything but quiet and peace is the mind’s aim. Speaking for myself, all I want to do is get rid of that mind altogether.
But, I know, that would be a mistake. I may not like how my mind behaves sometimes, but I do actually quite like having one, a mind that is. I guess, for me, it’s about realising that my mind is here to stay, and can be either my friend or my foe.
Trouble is, when trying to meditate, I can easily believe it’s my worst enemy. Another mistake, I think, that arises from a not so discerning attitude to the thoughts that flood in seemingly at random.
But, sometimes in that quiet and still space – and even if that quiet and peaceful space hasn’t yet been reached – a thought comes from the mind friend, not the foe. It seems I must learn discernment. Here’s a good example.
Not long into my meditation earlier today, but already bombarded with random thoughts, memories, and other distractions to said peace and quiet, an idea came that just caught my attention. Suddenly, there seemed to be a full-blown idea for what sounded like a great blog post.
I din’t have this notebook with me, and though I had my phone handy, I thought, no, be firm, don’t let interruptions in. Of course, I thought that I’d remember the idea, but sure enough, I didn’t. Now, it’s nowhere to be found. I mean it must be in some tiny neuron in my brain, but it’s hiding pretty well!
Later, after my meditation session, I thought to myself, how come I could make a list of all the less than useful thoughts, memories, ideas and random mental craziness that tried its best to keep me distracted, yet I have no idea what that one wonderful blog post idea was?
I think it might possibly be about attachment; a lesson I’m giving myself in discerning between what thoughts are from my friend mind which ones from my foe mind, the mind running wild with its accomplice, my ego.
It’s a lesson I badly need, I think. Endless thoughts of little or no use to me have stayed, while the one that might have been helpful is gone, seemingly forever.
Yes indeed. Perhaps ny perspective on what ideas ad thoughts are useful to me and what ones aren’t, needs to be contemplated upon.
Actually, it’s not really needing a lot of contemplation: I mean, the one idea I thought would be great is gone. But looking at it the other way around, the fact that the great pile of not so good thoughts staying with me has given us this post I am now writing, and you are reading.
Perspective. It’s all about perspective. And discernment.
Reaching for freedom is what I called this photograph that I made today. But, is it really? I mean is the plant actually in reality ‘reaching for freedom’?
Well, thus far, science can only tell us something like: This plant is programmed by its DNA to grow upwards towards the light.
Another climbing plant, in another place. Kind of looks like a painting, but it’s real
True, of course, but, here in this scene, that one shoot in the centre does appear to be reaching for the chair leg – perhaps for support? It’s quite common for me to see plants using all kinds of supports to do their upward growing (think Ivy on a wall). I think that in a few weeks, that tiny shoot might just be half way up that chair leg – or maybe higher!
So, as I came across this little scene, I questioned. No, questioned isn’t the right word. When I saw this reaching happening only a day after placing that plant pot in that spot, I made a declarative statement: I said, ‘There is an intelligence at work here.’
Am I saying that this little plant has a brain that is continually figuring out strategies for the plant’s growth and other behaviours?
Am I saying that there is a ‘god’ up there in some heavenly domain who is in charge of getting plants down here on Earth to grow in the right direction?
No, to both questions. I don’t and can’t accept either of these supposed ‘possibilities’.
But, are there some kind of universal laws that regulate and control how the Universe flows, behaves, evolves and the rest? More likely I think.
Again I am not suggesting there is some kind of controlling ‘entity’ separate from the material universe, or a supercomputer somewhere that’s running the whole thing. More a kind of energy or essence that’s built into all material things, and that is an element of the very existence of things.
A regulatory principle, I guess you could call it. But not some imposed or externally dictated regulations, laws, or controls. I think it’s more natural than that: existence is its own regulator and controller. Or so it seems to me in my good moments – such as when I witnessed this unfolding and evolving life drama.
Deceptively simple is how I’d thought to describe the lyrics of a love song by John Lennon I heard again recently for the first time in years.
But, no I thought straight away, that’s not right. The message of the song is simple, and the lyrics convey that message to us just as simply.
Of course why the song is so powerful – and personally significant to me and so many others – is that, while the message may be simple, the ramifications of really hearing the lyrics, really digging the words and trying to put them into action, are far from simple or limited and have few if any boundaries of any kind.
The one word title of the song I’m talking about says it all: Love. Lennon included Love on his first solo album with the Plastic Ono Band, which was released in 1970. So not actually a solo album, but you know what I mean.
The original purpose of this post was to share with you a poem I wrote in response to reconnecting with this masterpiece.
While I will still be sharing that poem, I thought I would first let you see the lyrics of Love put together through my own listenings to the song itself. No copyright breach is intended here. I only print the lyrics for illustration purposes, and besides, if you can’t share a song called Love, by John Lennon, what can you share?
If before or after reading the lyrics you prefer to actually listen to the song being sung by John, then just head here for a great early version.
Love is real, real is love. Love is feeling, feeling love. Love is wanting to be loved.
Love is touch, touch is love. Love is reaching, reaching love. Love is asking to be loved.
Love is you, You and me. Love is knowing We can be.
Love is free, free is love, Love is living, living love. Love is needing to be loved.
You see? Simple lyrics, simple melody, but the message! It’s all about the message. Or is it an invocation? A love mantra?
Mind you, the song is presented in such a light-hearted and gentle soft manner, that it might be easy for some to dismisss the message as being merely wishful or fluffy thinking. But, there really isn’t anything fluffy about love is there?
Now, to my response. Well one response among many I should say. I offer this poetic effort in humility and gratitude – indeed, in and with love.
John was a singer and a writer of songs. John was a friend of mine – yet never known personally. Yet known by me all my life. A fab friend for everyone.
John wrote songs, songs he sang, lyrics given life by voices very few heard. It was hysterical.
He wrote a love song, a song I heard and loved. In fact, a whole lot of love songs he wrote. One verse, in that one song, caught my ear, snatched at my heart.
This is the verse, the stanza I love: Love is you You and me Love is knowing We can be.
No sickly, sweet sentiment this. Not like some plastic bobble-head lurking in some grubby rear window. No, as the song he wrote says: Love is real.
Love not for the sake of getting it right all the time; Love not for the sake of always looking like the good guy; Love not for the sake of a distant and cold devotion; But love, Love for you alone.
I’m rewriting this post after initially making it another two for one thing. One of those two questions had been: ‘What is prayer?’. As in what form can and does prayer take, my prayer that is.
Then I realised that all the thoughts, all the contemplations and reflections I came up with in answer, belonged more correctly in the How question which will be coming in due course.
Which means, that in this post we will be looking at just the one question, which also is only about my own personal prayer life.
What do I pray for?
As it happens, I have already spent a little time on this question in the Why do I pray? post back in November. I think it would be a good start to begin this post with a quote from that one:
‘So,’ you might ask, ‘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 for yourself? None of these things?’ These are good, valid questions. And the short answer is yes, of course I do. I do pray for healing for others and myself; I do pray for communal and personal peace. As for happiness, well who doesn’t pray in one way or another for a just a little happiness now and again? However, I do draw the line at praying for material things, like money and material objects to possess, none of those kind of things. I believe I don’t pray for such things. I think so anyway.
Now, I don’t know about you, but it seems to me that those two last little sentences are broadcasting a very clear message: Obviously there is some uncertainty in my thoughts about what I actually in fact do pray for.
Somewhere, sometime, recently I wrote to the effect of that there is nothing to pray for, and that there is nobody to do the praying. This, of course is not a notion we can really get to grips with while living in a material body in a material Universe.
It’s nore for those dwelling in some transcendental realm where everything that exists has ceased to exist, and all that remains is pure consciousness.
So, obviously while we continue our existence as embodied beings, living in a material universe, there is much to pray for and there are many of us who do pray. Speaking only for myself personally, I know I could pray more, better, and deeper. As I’ve mentioned many times, my aspiration is to make my entire life – physical, mental, spiritual, – a prayer.
Okay, that’s all very good and fine, but I still haven’t answered the question: What do I pray for?
Well, as I mention in the quoted passages above, I pray for healing and peace for other people, the world, and for myself. I pray for happiness, health, and freedom from suffering for all beings.
But it’s not that I’m directing my prayer to some being up there in some heavenly realm who sits arbitrarily dispensing favours or denying them, and who acts according to the quality and quantity of prayers sent their way.
No, it’s more about, as I talk about in Who do I pray to? the post before this one, directing my attention, thoughts, actions and everything else, to the symbols that represent for me the natural flow of the laws and order of the Universe. Why?
Seeking alignment, I think that’s the best answer. By praying I am seeking to align myself, to put myself in sync with those natural laws, with the flow of that natural order.
Referring to the quote above, the peace and healing I pray for are like affirmations of my desire for that alignment, and that the entirety of Self itself be in alignment. That Self I speak of is of course all that exists in the Universe.
It’s similar when talking about praying for material ‘things’ while remembering too, that healing and peace are also in fact ‘things’ of the material world. Perhaps the best way to put it is to say that it is not the ‘things’ themselves that I pray for. With the risk of sounding like i’m repeating myself, it is correct alignment with all material existence that I am praying for.
Actually, it is more than that now I think about it. My prayer – and my life – is actually about my seeking to properly and fully realise that (to quote the glorious Desiderata:
No doubt the universe is unfolding as it should
We suffer when we label that unfoldig or a person, a thing or event or whatever as good or bad, desirable or undesirable; when we think there is a them and there is a me or an us always separated; when we are compelled to gather possessions and yet still think we never have enough. These are the dualities of material nature.
My prayer is to realise, not just know in my mind, but realise in my heart, that there are no dualities. There is only … Ummm. Well, perhaps that’s it: There is. Only. Nothing else. Only. Is.
