Foster Your True Self: It’s A Big Deal

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

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?

Realisation of Reality; It started With a Joke

‘I like looking at you,’ says the hermit.

‘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.

Cause and Effect: A Poetic Sharing


Greetings my friends, and welcome

Another poetic sharing today. My resolve, my prayer, to write more devotional poetry does indeed seem to be bearing fruit, and I am deeply thankful.

With gratitude and with humility I make this offering to You.

Love and Peace

CAUSE AND EFFECT

Every moment is a cause in which lies a potential effect

Spiritual growth. This is the effect.

Yet, as we grow, our very growth becomes a cause –

   potentially –

as does a winged seed traveling on the wind –

the breath of God – carry with it the potential tree

On your soul, on the souls of other beings, on the soul of the

   world,

the cause, your one moment of growth, may have its effect.

Cause and effect; one and the same.

Mindful? Full of What?

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.

The Dharma of Keeping

A curious title for a post, I thought as the words popped into mind. And it’s one that could be hinting at, pointing towards, any number of ideas, topics, or whatever.

In this case, however, it is really quite straightforward: The title refers to a three-line quote I rediscovered when I was transferring notes from a full notebook to a new one the other day.

Actually, ‘three-line’ quote may not be quite correct. In fact, I have no idea if it is a longer quote consisting of three lines, or, three individual one-liners that I happen to have grouped together.

Whatever the case, I don’t know where I found this quote or these quotes. All I can say is that I was surprised to come across them as I performed the normally routine task of transferring notes.

Surprised,  because each of these lines I think, hold a special message for me; a unique piece of advice. You could even call them guidance.

Each individual line and its message is wrapped around  and driven by the verb to keep:

Keep your spirits up
Please help keep the silence.
God’s will be done and keep calm.

As a whole, this quote (these quotes) constitute  a kind of ‘how to live in the world’ mini-guide. Each – and all – of the three lines point to an aspect of what we might call Right Living – guiding us to the means by which we may approach daily life with its ups and downs, its sorrows and joys, good and bad times, mistakes, hurts, confusion, that make up our lives as flawed human beings living the best we can in an imperfect world.

Keep your spirits up

What with all those ups and downs, sorrows, daily crises – in our own lives and in the world around us – how are we to keep  our spirits up?

How do we free ourselves of the pain and suffering caused to us by all these travails?

How do we remain positive and optimistic in the face of what passes for a life ‘in the world’?

All good questions, and there are many many answers out there in that same crazy, mixed-up world that’s giving us all the trouble in the first place.

Speaking only for me, I have nowhere near reached the point where I can say that my spirits are consistently lifted, that I let nothing disturb me.

Why is that? The answer is simple: because I’m a human being. Or perhaps it’s better to say I inhabit a human body which is subject to one thing only: constant change.

I’m learning more and more that the only one I can address such questions to is me. If there are any answers to how to keep my spirits up, I’m realizing slowly that I won’t find them out there in the world or in the things of the world.

So, going within has to be at least my tentative response. It seems that there really is nothing else that will keep my spirits up for more than some fleeting often illusory moments here and there.

Please help keep the silence

What silence? Well may you ask: hardly what you’d call a quiet place to live, this world of ours.

Once again, for me, going within is a good start. Though I’m not the quietest person in the world, especially ‘within’. Too many thoughts, emotions coming and going, all the craziness of an overactive mind and heart.

But it’s a start.

I keep re-centring  when I can. I focus on my breath; recite some favourite prayers; chant mantra (the names of God); I sometimes just sit. All these do help me, will help me, I know. They do, sometimes, every now and again, for little moments, create that little (vast?) space I call silence.

As to playing my part in keeping that broader, silence? Well I’ve mentioned before the invisible community – the heaps of people all over the world who are on the same or similar paths, practising their own unique ways of going within, of cultivating both inner and external quiet, or silence.

All of which tells me, I am not alone. And it says, my little contribution to silence – to being still and quiet – actually counts.

God’s will be done and keep calm

For me, ‘God’s will be done’ is simply another way of saying that the Universe (or life) is unfolding exactly as it does in the only way it can. It just is as it is. And me, being also that life, I play my part.

And that’s all: we play our part; we do our bit, and it all happens as it does.

Acceptance of this truth is also one of those aspiration things I keep near the top of my list. Surrender, I sometimes call it. Surrender, rather than being a ‘giving up’ as we sometimes use the word, is more about going with the flow of the river, or accepting and cooperating with the flow of the natural order of the Universe as we experience it in our lives.

That ‘keep calm’ bit reminds me of that meme that was everywhere a few years ago: ‘Keep calm and carry on’. It, in a real sense, is exactly what I’m trying to do.

Surrendering, or accepting that ‘the universe is unfolding as it should’ (to borrow once again from the astonishing Desiderata) seems to be the clearest most obvious way to that calm our quote speaks about: Calm acceptance, free from the resistance and struggle against the flow of the river of life that lies at the root of much of our suffering.

So, the Dharma of Keeping. One small (or perhaps not so small) set of clues about how to live right in the world – and with the world.

The river of life is calling me to the kitchen. Even hermit monks have dishes to put away. So, keeping calm, I carry on.

Hermitage on the Loch (courtesy: a member of our community