By Dr Paul Brunton
A mix of commute narrative & profound religious event. no dw, undated 1st ed c1939
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Additional resources for A Hermit in the Himalayas: The Journal of a Lonely Exile
The sunbeams filter through its foliage. There is not very regular symmetrical growth of the branches, as with pine-trees, and the clustered needles which form the foliage droop sadly towards the ground. Nevertheless there is quite an air of faded aristocracy about the old dark tree, while its leaves still waft the peculiar fragrance which betrays its primal relationship with the Syrian ced ar. I remember that the Mogul Emperors used the wood of deodar trees to heat the water for their baths, and for the baths of their harem favourites, because of its unusual scent.
For Nature has a will to outwork in us an� only by desisting for a time from the cOntinuous exercise of our own wills can we acquaint ourselves with her purpose. It; however, we do this we ma,y learn with surprise that she also has a way of silently yet forcefully attain ing this end before our eyes, once we help her by such selflessness. And then her aims and our aims become one, interblent. Ambitions are then transmuted into aspirations and the things we once wanted to achieve for our own individual benefit alone become achieved, almost effortlessly, through us for the benefit of others as well.
Do what you will to run away, invisible hands are tying all sorts of threads between you and the world which you have left. For while I sit l a te this morning on the small patch of stone a nd grass next to my bungalow, 'With the fir branches hanging over me, trying to sort my medley of papers, notes and letters into some kind of order, the servant appears suddenly, grins broadly, and announces two visitors ! I look up-and there they are, immediately behind him, having ascended the short bank which runs up to meet the building.