The Book Of Love and Home

Link to Peter Gabriel's video

One of the songs I like to play on guitar is "The Book of Love", originally recorded by the Magnetic Fields and later by Peter Gabriel. Here are the lyrics and information about the song (source).

The book of love is long and boring
No one can lift the damn thing
It's full of charts and facts and figures
And instructions for dancing
But I, I love it when you read to me
And you, you can read me anything 

 

The book of love has music in it
In fact, that's where music comes from
Some of it is just transcendental
Some of it is just really dumb
But I, I love it when you sing to me
And you, you can sing me anything 

 

The book of love is long and boring
And written very long ago
It's full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes
And things we're all too young to know
But I, I love it when you give me things
And you, you ought to give me wedding rings
I, I love it when you give me things
And you, you ought to give me wedding rings 

 

Arguably the most recognized song from the 69 Love Songs Collection, “The Book of Love” is track 11 of volume one. Stephin Merritt sings a basic, timeless melody over a barely strummed guitar and light background vocals.

Despite its conversational lyrical style and not-entirely-romantic vocabulary (who would ever think to use words like “boring” or “dumb” in an honest to goodness love song?) the message of the song communicates how we tend to see love as cheesy or needless on the outside, and absolutely essential on the inside.

The song has been used countless times in TV shows and movies. It got even more play after Peter Gabriel recorded a cover version for the film "Shall We Dance?" in 2004.

Another song that I've been listening too lately is "Home" by Lisa Hannigan. The lyrics are as follows:

[Verse 1]
Home, so far from home
So far to go
And we've only just begun
And oh, every lie we told
Is written in stone
Every lie we wrote in our bones 

[Chorus]
And hold on, there's nothing to pack
We know we're not coming back
[Post-Chorus]
Oh oh oh oh 

[Verse 2]
Oh, every promise that we broke
Is sewn to our clothes
Now we are pinned to the wind I suppose 

Oh, every falling flake of snow
It has to give in
Oh but we spin and we spin and we spin 

[Chorus]
Hold on, there's nothing to pack
Lay your heart out, we're not coming back 

[Post-Chorus]
Oh oh oh oh 

[Instrumental Bridge] 

[Chorus]
And hold on, there's nothing to pack
Lay your heart out, we're not coming back
We're not coming back

Lisa Hannigan singing "Home": link

I interpret the song as describing our journey to the Source where with our 8.5 million lifetimes we are "so far from home" and we still have "so far to go". The Akashic Records ensure that "every lie we told" and "every lie we wrote" is eternally preserved as is "every promise that we broke". In the grand scheme of things, our little life is like a "falling flake of snow" that has to eventually "give in" and melt away but in the meantime "we spin and we spin" on our own little axes, unlike the Qutubs around which the universe spins. I especially like the chorus with it's exhortation to "hold on" to our little lives all the while remembering that as we pass on "there's nothing to pack" because "we're not coming back". "Lay your heart out" in the meantime and don't harden your heart, remain open and vulnerable.

Silence Day 2024

It's that time of the year again. This day marks the 99th anniversary of the beginning of Baba's silence. I was awake just before midnight and the moment I awoke I remembered that it was Silence Day. A few minutes later I checked my phone and it was 00:04. It's now 00:36 and I've had breakfast and am ready to start the working day so to speak. 

AVATAR MEHER BABA using the alphabet board to communicate with His followers.

Even though I don't work, there are chores to be completed. Apart from those however, I want to spend the day being more mindful of Baba and appreciative of my great good fortune in having come to know of Him. In 1967, I first saw the name Meher Baba in a book titled "A Search in Secret India" by Paul Brunton. It had been lent to me by my now long lost friend Steve Ross. I first heard the name Meher Baba in 1968, during a talk given at the University of Queensland by Bill Le Page (now deceased).

AVATAR MEHER BABA (left) with Frank Simon Hendrick, Francis Brabazon and Bill Le Page in 1954.

During these two years, Meher Baba was still alive and it was the talk by Bill Le Page that embedded Baba's name in my memory. I was unimpressed by Bill's presentation and quickly forgot all about it. I can still see myself sitting in that largely empty lecture hall, unaware of the profundity of the occasion. I came away with nothing but His name and, thanks to His grace, that proved to be enough. It was not until 1993, at the age of 44, that I finally came to Baba but the seed had been planted that evening in the lecture hall.

If His name hadn't been buried in my subconscious mind, then the book "God Speaks" that I stumbled upon in about 1981 would have meant nothing to me. Seeing the author's name triggered an urge to acquire the book and give it a place on my bookshelf where it remained, largely ignored, for the next twelve years. However, I did very occasionally open it up and start reading it only to quickly abandon the attempt as the words made no sense to me. That all changed in 1993, again through His grace, and in the next seven years I came to know the details of Baba's advent.

So here I am at age 75 observing silence on Silence Day. I'm thinking I'd best not go for my usual morning walk as I may be lured into verbal communication. As usual I'll stay at home and avoid even going out the front door to sweep the fallen leaves away because I always, if I encounter him, say good morning to the guy next door whose task it is to clean the bird and cat cages. In the past, I've even slipped up by saying something to my dog but now that she's gone that won't happen. It's only my wife and granddaughter that I am at risk of talking to but they are quite familiar with this annual event and are understanding of its significance.

On this day I'll play some of what I consider Baba music. For more about these songs, the following links are available:

• https://sean-reeves.blogspot.com/2021/08/its-been-long-long-long-time.html
• https://sean-reeves.blogspot.com/2021/08/the-one.html
• https://sean-reeves.blogspot.com/2021/12/across-bridge.html
• https://sean-reeves.blogspot.com/2024/01/im-on-your-side.html

Special prominence must be given to "Begin the Beguine" by Pete Townshend because this was Baba's favourite song and Pete of course is a long time Baba Lover.

Having had only about five hours slept, I fell asleep again between 03:00 and 06:00. For the first time ever, I had several dreams in which I knew I was observing silence but slipped up in various interactions with dream characters. Interesting. 

Listening to Van the Man, I was captivated by the lyrics to his song "Have I Told You Lately That I Love You". Let's not forget that Jim Reeves wrote a song with the same name (but different melody and lyrics) but here are the lyrics to Van's song:

Have I Told You Lately That I Love You

Have I told you lately that I love you?

Have I told you there's no one above you

Fill my heart with gladness

Take away my sadness

Ease my troubles, that's what you do

Now the mornin' sun in all it's glory

Greets the day with hope and comfort, too

You fill my life with laughter

You can make it better

Ease my troubles that's what you do

There's a love that's divine

And it's yours and mine, like the sun

At the end of the day

We should give thanks and pray to the One

And to say, 'Have I told you lately that I love you?'

Have I told ya there's no one above you?

Fill my heart with gladness

Take away my sadness

Ease my troubles, that's what you do

There's a love that's divine

And it's yours and mine

And it shines like the sun

At the end of the day

We should give thanks

And pray to the One

And so

Have I told you lately that I love you?

Have I told you there's no one above you?

Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill, fill my heart with gladness

Take away my sadness

(Take away my sadness)

Ease my troubles, that's what you do

Fill my life with gladness

Take away my sadness

(Take away my sadness)

Ease my troubles that's what you do

Fill my life with gladness

And take away my sadness

(Take away my sadness)

Ease my troubles that's what you

This is another excellent devotional song and I'm reminded how the use of the term "The One" is preferable to the use of the term "God" which means so many different things to so many different people. Using this terminology helps overcome the associations, good and bad, that adhere to the latter term. We can thus say that Meher Baba and the Sadgurus are one with The One and from The One arise The Many. 

A Belated Farewell

Last night, I dreamed about a childhood friend named John Contarino. We were walking towards his house and as we approached it, the house became what looked like, in retrospect, a sepulchre or crypt. There were white steps leading down to a rectangular pool about the dimensions of an average grave. Oddly, but then again it was a dream, John had been driving a car, a Volkswagon I think, and he parked it squarely on the stairs behind me after I had descended them.

I skirted the pool by walking on its concrete edges and to my right there a slightly open door with light spilling out. This was his house but I didn't look in and proceeded to emerge from the crypt and continue on my way. John was no longer with me but instead I realised that I was already late for school in my capacity as a teacher. I looked at my watch and saw that it was 8:45am and I had missed roll call that took place at 8:40am. The class that I needed to teach was already seated and waiting for me. I started to panic and try to wake myself up and eventually succeeded after my wife shook me.

On awakening, I felt that this dream might have been a premonition that he had passed away. After all, he would have turned 75 in December and he had been a heavy smoker. Later in the day, I checked out the funeral notices for Brisbane and discovered that he had died on August 8th 2013 at the age of 63. He had been born in December of 1949. I think it was on the 12th of the month but I'll have to check. Figure 1 shows the funeral notice.

Figure 1

It would be interesting if his final resting place at Nudgee Cemetary was a crypt. Given his Italian heritage, the family could well have had such a structure built. Why I should dream of him now, so many years later, I don't know. He's not someone that I remember having dreamed about for decades. As the notice says, he had two children, Gina and Salvatore. He was married in late 1993 or early 1994 and I attended his wedding in Brisbane with my then wife Sylvia. So it goes. That was the last time I ever had contact with him. I was living in Sydney at the time and this was before the Internet. In January 1996, Sylvia and I headed overseas.

John arrived at Marist Brothers Rosalie, where we both attended school, in Grade 5. This was way back in 1959. We became firm friends and would often walk back home together after school. He was a bright student and we both attended University together, although we both dropped out after a couple of years. He suffered a mental breakdown in his early twenties and remained on psychiatric medication thereafter, while I knew him, and probably for the rest of his life. There are so many memories that I have of him and I guess I'm still processing the news of his passing. We played innumerable games of chess together. We both trained for long distance running.

Transitioning

In a post to my Alternative Media blog, I posted about saying farewell to Facebook for reasons explained in that post but another factor that I didn't mention was the process of needing to gradually let go of earthly concerns. Facebook was filled with photos, videos and stories of people who I once knew and interacted with but now they are no longer a part of my life. The few people outside my family that I still interact with are contactable by means other than Facebook.

Family and a very few friends will remain important to the end but the others are no longer relevant. My physical health has taken a battering over the past few weeks and this is a signal to focus on my psychological and physical well-being and forget the outside world. The world on the other side awaits and preparations should be made. While I've never been a team player, I feel that our successive lives are like a relay race and it's important to pass the baton cleanly to the next person so that they have the best possible start to their life.

My actions and attitudes in the time remaining to me will have important consequences for the person who takes up the baton from me. So I need to find out what's going on with my body at the moment as this is a challenge that needs to be faced and overcome. I'm not going to allow myself to remain in this debilated condition. Whether by diet, exercise or some form of meditation, I'll find a way through this.

Eternal Divine Bliss

I'd read the following quote before but never fully understood it but on reading it this time, it made more sense. The quote arrived via a regular Meher Baba newsletter.

WHEN BABA SAYS “HE HAS COME TO ME” WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?

(May 1958) Charles Purdom asked, “Will you comment on what you mean by ‘to come to me’?”

Baba replied:

To come to me means liberation, experiencing me as I am, no more bondage of births and deaths. But it does not mean the state of a Perfect Master or Perfection. That is only to be attained while alive in the gross body. So if you are not blessed with this state of Perfection [while in the body], at least you can have liberation [after the body drops].

If you just take my name, just at the moment of dropping your body, you will come to me. Yes, anyone. It is not easy to take my name at the very moment of leaving the body. Then you individually experience bliss, infinite bliss. After attaining liberation, you continue to experience infinite bliss eternally. Why? Because it belongs to you eternally. You experience what belonged to you eternally. Even spiritual ecstasy cannot be compared with divine bliss. Remember this.

Lord Meher, Original Publication, Bhau Kalchuri, Vol. 15, pp. 5444 – 5445.

This is certainly something to aspire to, although in practice almost impossible to execute. However, I still remember a dream in which I tumbled off a cliff and was hurtling toward the ground with a house also tumbling down right above me. If the impact of the fall didn't kill me, the house crashing down on me certainly would. I knew I was finished and was only seconds from death. I fumbled to access my wallet containing Baba's photo but realised that I didn't have time and ended up taking Baba's name instead.

At least in the dream I was able to take Baba's name at the moment of dropping my body so maybe one day I'll be able to do so in real life.

Rome and Home

Baba taunted the man, replying, “Yes, you cannot follow because you are in Rome, and I know because I am at Home! This is the difference between you and me. You are in Rome and I am at Home!”

The priest then left, quite puzzled by his encounter with Baba. What Baba meant by “Home” was that he was one with God, and “Rome” was the church – rites, rituals, orthodoxy. God abided in Baba, and Baba abided in God. But to the priest God was in Rome – the church in Rome.

Above is an excerpt from a story from Lord Meher that I received in my inbox today and quite like. The punchline of course is the following:

 You are in Rome and I am at Home

This quote carries more weight for me because I attended a Catholic school and was nominally a Catholic until about age 15 when the penny dropped so to speak. While I'm not in Rome anymore, I'm still far from home or "walking far from home" as the Iron and Wine song lyrics go. What follows is the full story and a wonderful photo of Baba taken in 1936 when he was 42 years old. He looks magnificent. The photo immediately follows the story. 

(March 1937) Baba was in Nasik. Malcolm Schloss had met a Catholic priest at a religious conference in Nasik and he urged the priest to meet Baba, but he declined. When he told Baba, he also seemed uninterested. However, due to Malcolm’s persuasion a meeting was arranged. The following conversation between the priest and Meher Baba then ensued:

When they met, Baba commented to him, “All the Mullajis (Muslim priests) are good; the Pope is good; the Pandits (Hindu scholars) are good. But only the Sankaracharya (1) (head of orthodox Hinduism) can speak for hours on end!”

The priest had recently returned from participating in the religious conference, and hearing Baba’s words, proudly refuted, “It was not the Sankaracharya, but I who spoke during the whole conference. The Sankaracharya could not argue convincingly at all. He could not say a word to me and I rebuked him severely.”

“Yes,” replied Baba, “these Mullajis, and the Sankaracharya, all need to be warned. They deserve lecturing and need to be taken to task.”

“You just said they are good and now you say they need to be lectured,” the priest said. “I don’t follow what you mean.”

Explaining, Baba spelled out, “The Sankaracharya and high priests have big heads – they are intellectuals – but they have small hearts. You, however, have a good heart.”

Baba added, “There are many to teach in the world, but very few to learn.”

“What do you mean?” asked the priest.

“They all teach but none of them wants to learn – and those who teach do not know the Truth themselves!”

Baba then recounted a striking incident concerning Baily: “A chap named Baily was my school friend and he just could not believe how a boy like me who used to play marbles with him, could as a man attain such a high state while he was still in the same state where he was. The difference between him and me was so phenomenal that he wanted to see some miracles as proof in order to gain conviction about me. One day, when Baily was writing something in my thatched hut in Poona, all of a sudden the inkwell began dancing up and down! He was flabbergasted. After a little while, the pen jumped from his hand and also started to dance. He started shouting, ‘Baba! Baba!’ and wept continuously for some days. From that day on, he was convinced of my powers and had faith in me.

“I told him, ‘You are a fool. If this small phenomena could convince you of spirituality, why don’t you go and follow Muhammad Chhel, who was a well-known tantric magician?’

“All miracles are child’s play, whereas spirituality is far above them. Miracles in themselves have no spiritual value or significance. But they are necessary and, at times, performed by the Master as a means to convince people of Truth and spirituality. Jesus performed miracles not for his own gain, but to make people recognize the Truth and to create faith in them. Yet, when he was crucified, he who could raise the dead, did not stop it!”

Changing the subject, the priest asked, “Why do you keep silence? Why don’t you speak?”

“I always speak!” Baba smilingly replied, “I continually speak through you, through all the high priests and through everyone.”

Not following what Baba meant, the priest asked, “Then why do you use the alphabet board?”

“I talk through you and all, and I answer questions through this board.”

The priest looked more perplexed and asked, “How? I don’t understand.”

Baba taunted the man, replying, “Yes, you cannot follow because you are in Rome, and I know because I am at Home! This is the difference between you and me. You are in Rome and I am at Home!”

The priest then left, quite puzzled by his encounter with Baba. What Baba meant by “Home” was that he was one with God, and “Rome” was the church – rites, rituals, orthodoxy. God abided in Baba, and Baba abided in God. But to the priest God was in Rome – the church in Rome.

(1) Footnote: In Hinduism the Sankaracharya is similar in status to the Pope in Roman Catholicism.

Lord Meher, Original Publication, Bhau Kalchuri, Vol. 6, pp. 2129 – 2130. Link.

My Grandfather's Clock

My father gave me his father's gold pocket watch when I left home in late 1973 and it was stolen a couple of years later in a house break-in. He was clearly disappointed when I told him later and I was upset by its loss when it happened but there's was nothing to be done except to accept its loss.

Last night I dreamt that a watch of mine had broken when I dropped it. In appearance, it was some weird composite of a smartphone, wristwatch and pocket watch and I remember trying to get it fixed. There was no resolution of the problem. However, I was quite soon after this splashing about in a pool and diving underwater.

Upon awakening, I associated this with the amniotic fluid of the womb and the broken chronometer, reminiscent of my grandfather's fob watch, was a sign that my time was up. Admittedly the night before, I had been contemplating my mortality as I lay in bed trying unsuccessfully to sleep.

With my birthday a little over two weeks away, I seem to be somewhat preoccupied with my mortality as if turning 75 is somehow more significant than other birthdays. Meher Baba died 25 days short of his 75th birthday and I'm now past that point with about 19 days remaining. 

Daniel Norgren's song "Everything You Know Melts Away Like Snow" playing on my phone as I write this. I play this song quite often on my guitar.

Everything you know

Everything you know

Melts away like snow

Melts away like snow (mm-hmm, mm-hmm)

Everyone you love

Everyone you love

Grass will grow above

Grass will grow above (mm-hmm, mm-hmm)

Cold black starry night

Cold black starry night

Makes my day look bright

Makes my day look bright (mm-hmm, mm-hmm)

Never comes the day

Never comes the day

That keeps the night away

Keeps the night away (mm-hmm, mm-hmm)

New green grass will grow

New green grass will grow

Folks will come and go

Folks will come and go (mm-hmm, mm-hmm)

Speaking of music, the title of this post is also that of a old song that goes like this:

So the old man lived ninety years in this song. Will I last that long?