Tag Archives: spiritual path

You’re Already There.

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There are many blessings that come with the living of the hermit life. And I am especially blessed as I am not a ‘hermit alone’ – I share my life, the Hermitage, and my spiritual practice with another hermit. We are partner hermits.

One component of that spiritual practice is our times spent together reading a few verses from the Bhagavad Gita. We pursue our own personal studies, but sometimes one or the other of us will share an especially resonant verse, or an insight or thoughts.

This morning my partner hermit told me, in a casual almost by the way manner, that she’d just read a verse that spoke about not disturbing others, and not letting ourselves be disturbed by others.

At first, I had no memory at all of this verse; I just couldn’t place it. Which might sound a little worrisome, given I’ve been studying this text for seven or eight years.

So, it wasn’t till she gave me chapter and verse and I looked it up for myself, that it finally clicked into place. Of course I knew this verse, but it had slipped from conscious memory.

And that surprised me: this verse seems to me to be speaking to a key concept in the teaching of the text as a whole, as well as to my personal aspirations. Surely, I would think, it should be, what’s the expression? Top of mind?

He [sic] who disturbs no one, and who is never perturbed by anyone, who is unattached to happiness, impatience, fear, and anxiety is dear to Me.

               Bhagavad Gita 12:15

This verse is full of meaning for me. It’s like a one-stop how to lesson in avoiding the personal suffering that’s brought about through attachments. Mind you, once again I can’t help wondering after years of study, and with how much this verse resonates for me, why I had such a hard time remembering even seeing it before.

I suspect the power of the ego and the mind have a lot to do with it. Ego – along with its master, the mind – love attachments to the world, to anything really. I guess they are always doing their best to keep me attached to my compulsions and aversions.

Imagine though, not being disturbed by anything – or anyone – and me actually not doing anything that disturbs anyone or anything?

Not just people and other living entities in my immediate physical environment, but out there in the wider world – in the Universe even.

It’s about vibes isn’t it? What vibrations am I putting out into the world? Are they vibrations and waves of love, peace, compassion, detachment, equinimity? Or at they vibes of discord, dislike, anger and sorrow over the stuff I can’t control?

And just think what it would be like if I weren’t so attached to the idea that my happiness depends on getting pleasure or ‘results’ from worldly things, activities based on the senses? Imagine really understanding that the only true and real and lasting happiness and satisfaction can only come come from within my Self?

This doesn’t mean at all that I can’t be happy, or can’t have fun or enjoyment. It is merely saying that, if I can accept whatever comes to me in life without clinging to the things I want, or running away from the things or situations I don’t want, then there will be less suffering.

Ego is jumping in now and wants me to note that, while I may in fact be on the path to detachment and freedom, I’m not far along enough yet to escape its clutches. Anyway, moving right along.

Impatience, fear, and anxiety are tricky presences in the attachment arena. I’m even less far along the path to letting go of these stubborn attachments. But, again, at least I’m on the path.

And what is that path? Where’s it going? Well (paradox alert), on the path in this instance is another way of saying I’ve not realised fully that I am already at the path’s destination. I just think I have a long way to go.

Swami Ramdas (1884-1963) Courtesy Wikipedia

I think Swami Ramdas said: ‘When you set foot upon the path, you have reached the destination.’ I think!

That’s the ‘dear to me’ bit of the verse explained. The ‘me’ in this phrase represents the aspired to full realisation that I am free, liberation or enlightenment some call it. It’s a place, or state of mind in which I move through the world with peace, calm and equilibrium, where nothing disturbs me, and I disturb no one.

That state of liberation doesn’t mean I have given up, or will have to give up, all desires for things I want, nor will I have escaped the things I have aversions to. It simply means I will no longer be driven by those desires and aversions, I will no longer be attached.

It means, too, that I will no longer be concerned in an attached way, to who says or does what to whom, when, where, why or whatever. At that stage I will be in the world, but not of it.

Of course, I am a hermit; you would think it’s easy for me being secluded from the world (well it’s not total seclusion). If only that were true.

I still have the clingings, cravings, and aversions; I’m even attached to the clingings and the aversions.

The one desire, the one I permit myself to cling to, is the desire to free from all other attachments, the attachments that cause so much suffering.

As long at I have that desire guiding my life, then I will be satisfied, when I can be, knowing that one day I will fully realise that I’m already free, unattached, liberated and happy.

There’s a song I wish I could remember the name of, or at least who sings it, but there’s a line in the lyrics that, says something like ‘I don’t want to go searching for what I already have.’ That’s me!

All I Can Afford is a Loving Heart

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Our post today is closely related to our last one. In fact, so close is the relationship, we can call them sibling posts, even twins.

Anyway to begin, I’d like to share one verse from a song I’ve loved and not loved for years. The song’s called You’re Just a Country Boy by Alison Krauss:

Never could afford a store bought ring
with a sparklin’ diamond stone.
All you can afford is a loving heart,
the only thing you own.

It’s easy to start disliking this song right from reading the title: ‘Just‘? As in only? As in ‘Is that all you are?’. And ‘country boy’? What’s wrong with people – of whatever age or gender – who come from rural areas?

But, there is some to love as well: The lyrics are clever (cleverer than I’d thought, as you will see soon); the singer has a lovely and skilled voice that I like a lot; and there is a generally relaxed, easy listening kind of vibe to the whole tune.

Still, there is more to dislike: The song is addressed to said country boy, perhaps as well meant advice from a friend who is trying to let the country boy down easy as they say. ‘Get real my friend,’ she seems to be saying. ‘You have nothing that anyone wants. You’re poor, you’re from the country, and no way will anyone ever want you.’

The lyrics are like an affirmation or confirmation of what we know already: the world turns on material objects and money, and you aren’t anyone or going anywhere if you don’t have that stuff.

But, then on the other hand, there is much more to love. And this verse kind of sums it up. For the first time today, rereading the lyrics as I ate my lunch, I finally got it: it’s IRONY!

‘What?’ the lyrics seem to say. ‘You mean to say that the only thing you own is a loving heart? What use is that for goodness sake? Nobody wants that. Everyone wants money, jewels, and other material things’.

Well, I think I’d actually gotten it already; it’s just (there’s that troublesome little word again) that today is the first time the word itself came to mind. How ironic to come to the realisation of the irony of this song after all this time?

I like the use of the word afford. Clearly our country boy is broke, has no money, little material worth, and being a ‘country boy’ he obviously has limited prospects.

The irony is, of course, obvious: if one has a loving heart (or an awakened heart as we reflected on in our last post), what else do they need to be able to afford?

Our friend has most likely earned his loving heart over and over again anyway as he’s lived his life with its inevitable trials, tribulations, joys and sorrows. Riches galore right there. Afford? Of what value are material riches when one already possesses the most valuable asset to which a human being can aspire – a loving heart?

Just thought I’d look up the lyrics to another song I also quote from quite often. It’s also about that ‘all I have’ idea. The song is Words by the Bee Gees. These two lines I like:

It’s only words and words are all I have
to take away your heart

Or, as I might reinterpret it: ‘I know these are only words, but they’re all I’ve got to try to speak to your heart from my heart’.

If I’m to dig deep, be honest, and all that, I would have to say that this idea has been a major guiding force in and for my life in one way or another – whether I’ve been conscious of it or not. As has been aspiring to a loving heart, though that aspiration has at times been bogged down in the mire of the mess of life.

Words are good and sacred, and I’ve always seemed to have a lot of them (it’s not the words that are at fault, it’s the one who uses or abuses them). Really, as I think about it now, all I want is to continue using them – words – to express what’s in this (aspirational) loving heart.

All I can afford is a loving heart.

PS Now I’ve actually truly and really seen the irony in the lyrics, maybe I don’t have to dislike this song quite so much

Flee, Be Silent, Pray Always: A Revisit

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Courtesy Wikipedia

Recently I came across the story of Abba Arsenius – one of the early Christian desert fathers. I’d originally written about him a year ago in what became a short series of posts.

Coming across him and his story again prompted me to revisit those posts – the first of which you can read here – and I reread them again, though as if for the first time. Anyway, here’s a short recap before we move on.

Arsenius was a high ranking official for the Roman Empire, working for many years as a tutor to the sons of the Emperor.

Over time he grew tired of the glamour lifestyle, the politics, corruption and court intrigues, and looked for a way to free himself from the whole material trap he was in.

So he prayed, ceaselessly, the story goes. He prayed for salvation, for freedom.

And, in time the answer, according to the story came in just a few words:

Flee, be silent, and pray always.

And he did. Flee I mean. He headed for the Egyptian deserts which is where he found that silence, and the space, peace, and calm to fulfil  his desire to be praying constantly. And, with some comings and goings, ups and downs, he stayed for the rest of his life.

Now, while Arsenius and his story are fascinating (in fact now I’ve rediscovered him, I’m going to look around  for a biography or something  so I can learn more), what I want to think about here is something I wrote in the first of those previous posts, and how it ties in with our decision (almost a year ago now) to stay in this one place for the present.

For these Hermit Pilgrims ‘fleeing from the world’  has meant a nomadic lifestyle, few possessions and material needs, a hermit life where our engagement or entanglement with the world is kept to a minimum, and in which we feel less of a pressure to conform, to ‘be shaped’ by the world around us.

The notion of staying in this one place – as fully now and in the present as we can be – is actually  paradoxically a fleeing of its own kind. The world of Samsara, the material world ‘out there’ continues to become less and less appealing to these Hermit Pilgrims.

Alongside this growing detachment to the world (as well as the loss of desire to move about in the world geographically speaking), is the deepening realisation that the real and true pilgrimage is within, through and to our own mind and heart.

Complimenting all this, is the growing contentment we are experiencing in this actual place, this hermitage of ours that we are creating on a daily basis. More and more it feels to be the exact place in which that inner pilgrimage is to continue.

Does this mean we have given up on that ‘nomadic lifestyle’? No, not at all. Or, more accurately, we are not niether giving up or not giving up. The present is all there is and we don’t – can’t – know anything beyond that. As the saying goes, What can we say about tomorrow?

We are here, and it is now.

with love
Paul the Hermit

A Prayer to Share: for the Divine Mother

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Namaste and Welcome

Today I would like to share with you a prayer (it’s a poem too, but …) I’ve written in praise of the Divine Mother. It’s actually the second prayer I’ve written to and for her. I shared that first one, called simply, A Prayer to the Divine Mother on the blog previously and you can find it here.

That post will also give you some background to my reverence for the Divine Mother – what she means to me; where my initial devotion comes from; my heart sense that this universal creative energy drives and sustains all creation; and finally how Divine Mother may be worshipped in many and varied (and even no) forms.

The prayer I share with you today – Jai Shree Maa –  emerged as I knelt chanting those exact word at the alter of a holy place dedicated to the Divine Mother as revered by many in her form as Our Lady of the Rosary.

It is a temple in that name I sometimes go pilgrimming to for quietness, meditation, and devotion.

Please accept my prayer. Thank you

JAI SHREE MAA

In this temple to the Divine Mother
upon my knees and praying.
Jai Shree Maa

I chant with sacred love in my heart,
sacred words upon my lips.
Jai Shree Maa

Divine Mother, with these words,
Jai Shree Maa
I invoke your holy presence;
I speak from my heart to yours.

With love and wishes for peace

Paul the Hermit

A Day of Silence Observed

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A few days ago we observed a day of silence here in the Hermitage. Our initial idea was to have a day of less talking, more quiet, which we hoped would help us reach a state of silence. We timed our little effort to coincide with a similar event being observed in an ashram in India whose foundation teacher we admire very much. A way for us to perhaps associate with others on a similar path out there (in there?) in the invisible community.

It’s not that we don’t experience periods of quiet (no talking) and even the aspired to silence, we do. Quite often they can be reasonably extended periods too, when meditating, chanting, studying, and so on.

But, it does have to be said, that we do spend a lot of time talking with its associated thinking – and unthinking too; with its listening – and not listening.

Of course, there are things we actually want or need to talk about; just that for us, sometimes we end up talking about stuff that’s not needed, as well we fall into what we call the adharmic trap of gossip, judgement, needless repetition, and the rest of the not so right speech.

Anyway, we wanted our day of quiet to be as complete as possible, so we agreed to not even discuss mundane and practical things unless it was absolutely essential. (Who gets to decide what’s ‘essential’ and not? Good question).

Around midday on the day in question I made a few notes on how my day was going so far. I had a vague notion I would make notes periodically through the day as a kind of ‘casual log. Needless to say, an approach of such vague casualness resulted in the notes made at midday being the only ones to actually come into existence.

Still, even though the notes were made relatively early in the day, I do think that they are a pretty good summary of my feelings on the day as a whole. So, let me share those brief reflections with you now:

Thus far (about 12) we are keeping silence (or at least not talking) – mostly. Practical things are sometimes tricky, sometimes not. It’s easy for example to point to a cup which translates to ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’. The reply which was ‘no thank you but I would like half a cup of soya drink’ took a bit more translational effort. Due of course to an almost complete lack of experience in speaking without umm, speaking.

Mind you,only three or four actual words spoken, along with a ton of hand gestures and facial expressions, did result in the transmitting and receiving  of understanding.

PLUSES SO FAR  

A sample of what it is like to be quiet, and actually being in quiet. And a happy anticipation (along with a sense of relief experienced in the present) of not having to talk about all the tired old things: the weather, the world, the ins and outs of teachings, teachers or writers, as well as ‘other people’, which often end up in judgements, criticisms, and plain simple gossip.

Alongside this overall positive vibe, there is a kind of nervousness. Where it comes from, I can’t say; probably an anxiety to do with not talking about the usual things. Though of course it’s only been a few hours.

While there has been little out loud talking, my mind has been running crazy, and I’ve had a strong compulsion to keep busy. Put these issues with the nervousness? To be expected really I think given my lack of experience with intentional quiet.

One step at a time.


Well, clearly that compulsion to keep busy didn’t extend to further note keeping, but, yes I have to say I did keep busy. Ironically some of that ‘busyness’ did in fact result in a few glimpses of silence.

I spent time working on an art piece in a prayerful manner, and in a quiet state; none of the all too usual chatter. Silence. I meditated for longer periods than usual, which allows for a deepening of a quiet mind (in theory that is). And when I chanted mantra, I think I may have been a little calmer and quieter of mind than usual.

Clearly the cultivation of silence – and even the seemingly straightforward task of simply not talking – is a practice that requires more practise, quite a lot of practise in my case.

We need to develop alternative communication strategies – hand signals, signs, gestures – to minimise speaking even more. Having said that if we’re to develop silence then even communicating about mundane stuff in other ways would get in the way. Too much talking!

Well, I occasionally make photos out there in the world

One very pleasing outcome is that I feel slightly less inclined to ‘talk about the outside world’ and other people. Less idle chatter. It’s a good start and it can only get better with some of the aforementioned practice.

Actually, thinking about it now, you’d think that a hermit who rarely goes out of the Hermitage except for a walk or occasional visits to a shop, who doesn’t watch the news or social media and the rest, wouldn’t have a lot to gossip or blah blah about.

That’s why, you see, I say that I really do need quite a lot more practice. Making silence is a long term project, an aspiration if you like, to find inner peace and make myself more able to radiate love to the world.

Love and Peace

Paul the Hermit

Flowing With the River of Life: A Work in Progress

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O Lord, I take refuge in You.
You are my sole guide, my master.
Show me the right path and
I shall follow it.

This is a prayer I like very much. It appeared one day in a previous incarnation of this notebook, then migrated to my prayer book. Its origins are lost in the mists of forgetfullness.

In any case, I like it – a lot. In a big picture kind of way it encapsulates much about the way I aspire to live my life; what I aspire to devote my life and energies to.

The prayer is addressed to the ‘Lord’ – to the Divine; to the Absolute Reality of (to borrow a favourite phrase) Life, the Universe, and Everything. Some will call this God, some think of it as the creator. For me it is simply Lord: all that is existence.

And it is there that I aspire to take refuge. I seek shelter in the knowledge of the rightness and order of the universe. Not an easy task when I think about the state of life ‘on the ground’ on our home planet; how the horrors can be almost impossible to grasp, to understand, and to keep from despairing over.

But a contented state of refuge, of safety, security, and even happiness, may be found, I sense, by a cooperation with what we might call the flow of the river of life.

And if I am to discover for myself that refuge, then there really is only one choice: to accept that flow of the river of life as my only guide to how to live, what to do, how to be.

Not surprisingly I struggle with the idea of cooperating with and accepting the often crazy and random nature of that flow of my life as my ‘sole guide’; how much harder is it to accept that very river as my master?

Again, if I ever want to be happy, if I ever hope to be free from suffering and attachments to those things that cause me to suffer, then I must accept and cooperate with the reality: the river of life is the master whether I like it or not. I may as well accept it.

Which absolutely and I hope obviously, does not mean I’m a fatalist, or that I am resigned to just let the currents toss me about willy nilly. No, not at all.

My deep sense (yet another site for other struggles) that the solution to suffering does indeed lie in an acceptance of the reality of the flow of life as it’s happening moment to moment.

By not resisting life and what it presents to me, I aspire to arrive at a state of acceptance where I might contentedly and freely ask what is my role here? What is the universe asking me to do?

If I can listen, and actually hear with the ear of my heart, then I might be able to discern the path, which if followed, will free me from suffering .

Then I shall be going with the flow, following the path of least resistence, and I’ll be contributing to my own smooth (well, smoother at least) ride through life.

Lookin’ For Love in All the Right Places

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It’s often advised by spiritual teachers and leaders, by Gurus, and other religious people, that a vital factor in the success of any spiritual endeavour or quest, is that the seeker or devotee is able to share the association of other, fellow devotees.

It is important, they say, that the seeker keep company with fellow travellers on the same or similar paths.

So, how does that work for a hermit? How does the seeker committed to living a secluded life, separated physically from others, find this association with those like himself pursuing a spirituality oriented life, a life of devotion, prayer, contemplation, and service?

Well, this hermit can’t speak for hermits generally; he can only tell you how it is from his personal perspective. So, how do I manage to obtain association with fellow travellers on my path to the Divine?

Firstly, I am blessed to share my hermitage and my life with my partner hermit, as I have done for virtually the whole of my adult life.

And my partner is very much a fellow traveller on the path of commitment to the hermit life, to a life of prayer, devotion, service, and contemplation.

This makes me think of something purportedly said by the Lord Jesus:

For where two or three are gathered in my name, there I am in the midst of them

Matt 18:20

In other words, when the two hermits are gathered in the name of the Divine, which is really all the time, then there is the Divine.

Of course, everything, all beings, all things, are the Divine. And, as if in confirmation of just that idea, something interesting happened. Out of curiosity, without any deeper thinking than that, I looked up Chapter 18 Verse 20 in my Bhagavad Gita. It was just for fun, but I ended up getting a nice surprise:

The knowledge by which the undivided supreme being is seen in all entities, though it is divided into numerous forms, is situated in the mode of goodness.

Bhagavad Gita 18:20

Supreme being, universal consciousness, the Christ, God, the Divine. Many names, one essence.

Even so, at times we feel alone, sometimes lonely.And isolated from others on the path of the Divine. So, what do I do to have this association with other devotees, with fellow travellers?

I make enquiries into the lives – both historical and contemporary – of others who have followed or are following a genuinely spiritual path and life. I watch online videos, I read books, as well as I subscribe to a few online newsletters which I discover by investigating websites I’m led to in some way. All these provide so much opportunity for association, for connection, and for learning.

Such explorations, are at the very least, informative: I can see – or read – for myself the evidence that I am not alone and never have been, in my commitment to the Divine and a spiritual life.

They are inspiring and encouraging: I’m not alone! I can do it! And often I get ideas, clues, on how I might deepen my practice, improve my service, love more.

I love the hermit life

In a sense such stories – in visual or in word form – ‘keep me company’. As I said a couple of times already (sorry!) I’m not alone. And I can smile, perhaps nod my head in agreement (or shake it in disagreement) with a comment or observation from one of my fellow devotees on the screen, or on the page. I guess in a way, it gives me a sense of belonging or connection.

Some might say that encountering people or experience via a video or book, is vicarious at best. But I wonder about that actually: Remember my fondness for the Ripple Effect? For my strong feeling for sending out good vibrations?

And, what did Jesus say about when two or three gather? He never mentioned that it was necessary for those two or three to be sharing the same physical space.

Life’s lonely; we all know that, and to encounter like-minded, or like-hearted people sharing a similar path to mine, is more than a prayer answered. It’s a life affirming, love affirming, blessing.

Story of a Misadventure & An Apology

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Today I’d like to share with you a short cautionary tale. It’s a true story, relating events that took place very recently.

There was a blogger, a serious student on the spiritual path; a monk whose mission in publishing his blog was – is – to share that path with others, to share the lessons he’s learned/learning. He sees it as one important aspect of his ‘doing God’s work’, reaching out to others of like heart and like mind.

Anyway, this blogger, he suddenly felt an intuition: he thought, I’ll set up an account on (insert here very popular platform) social media. That’s how to promote my blog he thought, and attract more readers.

So, dutifully, he set up an account and began posting. One or two poems, a couple of photos with commentary, that sort of thing. The plan was, post whatever seemed might be enlightening, whenever the feeling was there.

The blogger felt that this was a sort of ‘next step’. He thought that bringing more readers to his blog would help him with his quest to love more, and to share love.

But. Something wasn’t quite right. Sure, he, the blogger was excited by this new venture, this expansion of his service to the Divine and to the world. But he felt – literally and physically – a bit sick. A kind of nervousness gnawed at his guts; he just felt yuck.

‘I can’t do this,’ he thought to himself. ‘It’s not right’

So, there and then he resolved to delete the account, to close that chapter forever, and bring his focus back more fully to his blog. That’s where, he realised, was where God’s work could be done, as well as where his own passions lay.

But, the resolve, didn’t last long. He just had to act immediately. So, again right there and then, he deleted the account.

Instantly, a wave of relief swept over our blogger friend. He felt free, back on track. He now felt less burdened by a burden he’s made for himself, a burden that there really was no need to be carrying.

Okay, I confess: the blogger of whom we speak is in fact me. I know, you guessed that already, but it’s a disturbing saga and I guess I had some need to distance myself a little, at least to start with.

So, why the big relief? Why did it feel so right at the outset, but – almost immediately – felt so wrong to the extent of putting me ‘out of sorts’ physically and mentally?

Funny. That ‘out of sorts’ expression. That’s exactly the root of the issue right there I think. Years ago I withdrew from all social media – though I am on a photo sharing platform that is simply for that purpose and only that purpose, sharing photos.

You see, I thought (and still think) that social media generally had become a ground for conflict, and the celebration of conflict; it was a ground for corruption, gossip and sensation, for all the worst of the news (I know, the best too). Anyway, you know wht I mean: I’m not alone in giving it all up.

And, yet, here I was, feeling led to reopen that particular social media account. An example, I think, of an ego-driven desire for gain disguising itself as a genuine heart or soul intuition or calling.

I choose not to criticise or comdemn any social media platform. They are what they are. All I can say is that it’s not for me, not my ‘sort of thing’, not my cup of tea as it were. No wonder I was feeling out of sorts!

In my selfish, ego-driven compulsion to ‘increase traffic’ (what a horrible expression), I forgot entirely – as we so often do when blinded by desire – that this blog is seen and read by exactly those who are meant to see and read it – you!

So, I apologise to you for that sudden blindness, and for ignoring the absolute reality that it’s all working out just as it’s supposed to.

Thank you for making that so.

Peace and love
Paul the hermit

Foster Your True Self: It’s A Big Deal

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Today I finished watching  a beautiful and extremely fascinating documentary.  It was about life in a Trappist monastery as well as a fascinating history of that movement. I was struck by something one of the monks said.

He was referring to what he and his fellow monks are actually doing with their lives in the monastery. He said their lifestyle was helping them to:

‘foster who we truly are before God.’

Hearing this, I had to pause the video, make notes, and do some thinking. What had actually struck me, my first thought on pausing, was that this is exactly what I’m doing as a hermit monk dwelling in our Hermitage. Exactly what I’m doing. Well, at least it’s what I’m aspiring to.

There are two aspects or primary intentions that inform the life I try to live as a hermit and monk that are in fact integral one to the other; they merge actually to become one primary focus of my life.

I practice an ever evolving and I hope intensifying devotion to the divine, with the upliftment of the world and all beings as its central theme.

The other, integral focus, is an equally ever evolving and intensifying quest for self-knowledge, for the answer to the question, who am I?

In other words, I am attempting to foster who I truly am before God. Foster as in ‘encourage the development of …’ (as one definition puts it).

In this case, the development is the growth of the knowledge of my true nature – who I am above and beyond this physical (and mental) creature running around madly trying to figure things out.

In my life there is much effort devoted to the cultivation – a synonym for foster – of that knowledge: meditation, prayer, contemplation, study, just sitting, being still. Did I mention the aspirational nature of all this? It’s an ongoing project to say the least.

Speaking of aspirational: Two more synonyms for foster that I like are nurture and support. Both are even more in that aspirational category; at least it feels like that sometimes. Actually, maybe there’s a more accurate way for me to be putting this.

After all, as I think about it now, even I would agree that my whole lifestyle, my entire way of being in the world supports and nurtures me.

Except for me, myself, and I, that is: Lest the inner grammarian sends me mad in a search for antonyms for foster, let me just say that I am overly skilled in the self-critical and self-destructive departments. My ability to put myself down and to tear myself apart is legendary.

Anyway, with overwhelming nurture and support coming from my partner hermit all the time reinforcing my sense of Self, all I have to do is work on ridding myself of these self-destrucitive and self-critical tendencies.

So, the conditions for the banishment of self-loathing are there; all that’s missing is discipline on my own part in seeing the Divine in myself as I profess to be trying to see it in everyone else.

I need to be rid of the forgetfulness  that blinds me to the Truth that is actually very plain to see.

Speaking of the Divine, the ‘before God’ is the vital element for me. God is all there is, so it is always before God that I act, whether in a positive or in a not so great manner.

The best prescription is for me to remember. To remember that God is everywhere and everything (did I say that already?). To remember that me, myself, and I, are also included in that everything and everywhere.

I think that once I do remember these truths even for the odd moment now and again, then the real fostering of who I truly am will have begun.

A Story of a Door

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The walk from the Hermitage to the coffee shop at the Village Green takes around five minutes or so. This morning, noticing a pause in the rain, we thought we might take the opportunity to get some fresh air and a walk, at the end of which there would be coffee. So, we stepped bravely forward, with the faith that the gods of the rain were indeed taking a break.

‘Look over there, ‘ said my partner hermit as we passed through the centre of the village. ‘There’s a door that can only be opened from the inside.’

‘I’ve never noticed that before,’ I replied, looking across the street to a wall into which was set a door with no visible handles or lock. The only things that suggested that it was in fact a door were the hinges on one side, as well as its size and shape.

Now don’t ask me how many times I’d passed that spot. Most likely dozens of times, on both sides of the road. Still, now that I had been shown it, I was intrigued. Mentally I was captured: I thought, what a wonderful thing: the one or ones on the other side of the door have complete control over who or what is allowed to enter.

With such a door, one that only opens from your side, you could easily choose to rarely – or even never – open it. Ah, peace at last went my thoughts.

But, right away, those thoughts were dismissed, sent packing: too simplistic, too extreme, to heavy a response. Though, you know, I do feel strongly that such a response to the world – shutting it all out completely – is perfectly understandable, completely reasonable, and oftentimes even an absolute necessity .

Still, I had that feeling towards my reactive thoughts of ‘too extreme’ (inner editor’s note: he has no idea what he’s saying does he? If you ask me, right this minute he will be thinking his initial reaction was spot on and he’d love to have a door like that. Anyway, we’ll let him have it his way).

Some further, more careful thought is required here I think. For a start, here’s a question: If I were to keep the door shut all the time, how would I ever be able to allow my own light, my own love, my own Self, out into the world?

Maybe there’s a way to keep the door open sometimes, then at other times choose to keep it closed to bar access to unwanted intruders in the form of people, thoughts, events, emotions and so on.

After all, it is my door (in this little fantasy at least), the door to the inside, where resides the ‘real’ me, the Self within, beyond and above, the physical form that I so tenaciously cling to as as being the real me. Talk about attachment!

Perhaps slightly exagerated, but this is close to how I see my actual door working as distinct from the story I’m telling in this post.

Where was I? Oh yes. With that door that opens only from the inside, I might come – eventually – to realise that there is nothing to disturb me – unless I open the door and let whoever or whatever that is unwanted, through the door.

I am my own gatekeeper, and without my consent my gate (door) cannot be opened and entered.

And, getting back to the choices I am able to make to sometimes open the door to allow some light and love to flow out from me, out the door and into the world. The more I’m able to discern when, and for how long, to open the door as a way to control what comes in, to what can reach me, the more resources of said love and light I shall be able to build up.

Which, in turn, will lead to more and more opportunities I’ll have to open the door in order to share some of that good.

I can envisage a state reached where my door could quite possibly be left to stand ajar all the time.

You see, the more love and light pouring out, the less that disturbs me can get in. Love and light is transforming, isn’t it?

Yes. Now I’ve noticed – recognised – the door that can only be opened from the inside: It’s me! Now, where did I leave my door keys?