The Silence of The Hermit-Mind Enables Detatched Compassion – March 15, 2011

Some days the predominant feeling is one of not being able to resist being The Hermit like that of tarot card fame.  We all have so many experiences day-to-day, but how often do we really reflect on them? Consciousness naturally moves inward–when we give ourselves space from outer world distractions–and then we realize that the truth we seek is to be found within.  And more especially, we see this is true for others as well.

The overwhelming feeling that comes sometimes is to say this to others… Shhh, hush now, don’t cry; just sit and be quiet. We all want nurturing and to feel special and we swing out and flail around and cry and act-out just to be seen as special.  We crave the attention that we perhaps did not receive as a child, and these displaced emotions cause us to have so many difficulties in our adult lives.  Yet, something else that we all have in common is that we all have a piece of our psyche that relates to The Hermit and if we can tap into that part of our soul, we can learn detachment, objectivity and most of all…  how to be in silence. 

I’ve heard the terms, “Intellectual Violence”–have you?  So many of us engage in behavior that defines those words, and so many times it’s a complete inside job.  That is, until we can no longer contain the chaos that repetitive inner intellectual violence creates… and then we then start projecting it outward.  But this is to no avail.  Where else can it end up, when we do that?  Whatever we project out can not help but come back to our own self.  And then we ‘really’ get caught up in it. 

The soul will, I believe, begin to create circumstances in which we are–in some way–forced to go into silence.  This for the purpose of reaching a state of objectivity, detachment and release so that we can receive (at least) glimpses of Higher Truth. 

Then we find that we don’t need to speak very much, because–in highest Truth–there is nothing to say.

Licorice Root
Licorice Root

We can help ourselves in this process via the use of licorice root which, if used prior to meditation, helps to quiet the mind, allowing a greater sense of harmony to be embraced.  We can develop a level of detached compassion about our own lives, ceasing the intellectual violence in which we have grown all too accustomed to engaging.

There is nothing more to say.  Don’t you feel that way sometimes?  We can easily want to go into that stoic place of the peaceful observer when we’ve been exposed to either our own or someone else’s busy yackity-yack intellectual violence type energy. 

One day I was meditating in the Sun on a beautiful day at a nearby park deeply into my Hermit consciousness.  I thought that I was in an inconspicuous more-or-less private area where I would not be disturbed.  A man approached me and began babbling about something in the parking lot… something about a sticker on a car… and some university he attended… wondering if it was my car so that he could reminisce about his Alma mater I suppose… I really don’t know.  My hermit-mind, in slo-mo, had difficulty engaging at first with the man’s mouth and the sound coming out… what was he babbling about?  I was into silence!   I could only catch a word here and there, being very deeply into my Hermit prior to his interruption.  There was nothing to say–that was my state of mind–and yet here was someone who seemed to be saying a lot!  Quite a contrast and quite a shift I had to do in order to catch up with what he was talking about; I had to come out of the place of the peaceful observer, The Hermit, and engage with another’s psyche.   I did so with detached compassion toward his turbulent and difficult dialogue; he was quite animated and excited about finding out who owned the car with the university tag on the back in the parking lot.  Silly example, I suppose.

Generally, I have learned that it is possible to assist others with detached compassion and love, but I have to be able to–on some days–be The Hermit and be The Silence first so that I can do so most effectively.  Being in the consciousness space of “there’s nothing more to say” helps one to reorient to life and see things differently and at times, when one is asked by another to do so, help them to do the same.