Stillness in Motion the eternal paradox

Louis Cennamo
7 min readJan 7, 2022

January1977 — A Holy Mountain, Rajasthan, India.

The spiritual diary of a rock star — Awake in the Dream.

The diary reopens, my double life evolving. Sweeping me from the creation of a new album, with our reformed original ‘Renaissance’ — ‘Illusion.’ We called the album ‘Out of the Mist,’ with big UK concert tours soon to unfold in its dimension — and in another, this other-worldly superimposed inner space adventure; what was to be the first of six winter retreats in my seven years with a spiritual community, up ahead…

To rediscover Bharata — the true eternal, ageless and timeless soul of ‘India’.

Achalgarh Fortress and Temple

One physical ascension was my climb from the ashram to the ancient fortress above. I was so pleasantly surprised to see statues there of deities playing guitar-like stringed instruments; colourful figures, that one of my guides assured me were my spiritual ancestors. Well, I am here now, in the eternal Present, I affirmed, though I’d had my fair share of rock star idolatry in the glitzy lifestyle I had renounced, or had I? In this Light-filled environment it was so easy to leave the trappings of Hollywood behind. But I knew our lovely new ‘Illusion’ was a different story. Beautiful music, and old friends, reunited, everything coming together — It was taking off, in Keith Relf’s honour. But I knew in my heart that I had walked twin paths with Keith, the joy of all our shared music creations and this transcendental path were inextricably linked.

The Magnificent Delwara, ancient Jain Temple

I also knew in my heart, I was not a devotee in the traditions of any organised religion, ancient or new. I sensed an even deeper connection, to the absolute knowing of One Divine Source—and felt no separation.

I loved the feeling of being here in this land of such extreme diversity. An alternative Now was felt most keenly as I walked the steep path, winding its way to Achalgarh, the temple fortress, a sacred space, with a centuries’old story to tell.

Sacred music in my heart, and sacred silence permeating the spacious airwaves all around, holding whispers from eternity, forever Now. My thought then?…’how many times do we return to the home within we never leave’. Is this the Paradox in Paradise? — our home beyond the ghost plane of passing time, where all our temporary creations appear so convincingly real, until they pass back to our non-physical matrix of pure and indestructible energy.

With the awesome beauty of a most natural and magical forested mountain range springing up from the Rajasthan desert plains, wrapped around me now. I recall climbing in an old British Raj army jeep to Mount Abu, the legendary hill station 5000 ft and another transcendental dimension away from the timebound desert train station below.

ELITE MONKEYS, ANCIENT JAIN TEMPLES AND SO MUCH MORE’

Are they all waiting up ahead? and what of the ‘so much more’; what more than the rare and elite Hanuman monkeys that thrive in this holy place, and the ancient fortress, and temples of Delwara and Achalgarh”, or the lofted temple of ‘Gurushikar’ 1000ft higher at the summit? Is it a human frailty to always want MORE — or a treasured gift from the Divine — the ultimate ‘more’ that promises the mastery of everything, once one has first attained the non-polarised ‘zero’ status of ‘no-one — no-thing — no where — no time’.

Yes, there was, and IS so much more : but words are inadequate to describe it. The most wonderful news? None of us are destined to miss it!

The true Presence of Stillness permeated every light atom of the atmosphere, both inside our holy community and everywhere on the blessed mountain. In every sentient life form, and in the silence of nature. It felt supernatural — above and beyond the Earth somehow…a perpetual somehow.

Delwara (pictured above).

The non-theistic Jainism and the theistic Yogic heritage were at Peace with each other here, aligned with the bigger picture of how the Lila — the Divine Play of the Universe unfolds. We all were encouraged to visit the amazing Jain temples that had stood for more than a millennium, just up the road. I recall the movie scenes, watching from this dimension. Marvelling at the pure white marble architecture, the wondrous carved statues, the fabled 108 deities, and the intricacy of the wall and ceiling carvings also in marble; depicting in finest minute detail the scripture stories they had carried on throughout the long journey of their ancestral heritage — their most treasured beliefs, set in stone.

It was in vast contrast to the ashram complex of the ‘Himalayan’Yogis, whose own evolution was not rooted in the past, but in the eternal Now. A present most ancient, yet somehow brand new. These are all the words I can offer; the space in between might whisper more, much more about our primary reality, the timeless secret of who we really ARE — beyond the illusion dreamed in planetary virtual reality — our real dream.

What can I share with you about those days within the concrete Shangri-La? Not a lot about the Yoga training. Much of it was in silence, receiving the Light from the gaze of translucent elders, and intuitively knowing the Source of their transmission — the guiding invisible force that a London clairvoyant had sensed around and within me, but had not known how to describe. It was my teacher now… as was every visible and invisible presence here.

They had been all along. (We are ALL eternal Light-Beings after all!)…with an eternity of human adventures to savour, and then move on. Forever on, and forever to return. Where does an eternal Circle begin?

Sketching the Retreat

The wondrous scents of the magical surrounding super nature, the sounds of mystic Bharata echoing across the mountain to warm our hearts at each sunrise. Below us an unbelievable dawn chorus of both human prayer chants and animal baying. On the wind, in the trees, hushing as if to answer the distant cry of every heartfelt longing. Souls of all faiths were believed to have sought out this holy mountain since time unknown. I sat in various locations to absorb the atmosphere. I felt it transcend and then transform any lingering fears into a Supreme Love that knew no opposite. I was so grateful to know in my heart — It is always here, always our timeless Presence, forever alive.

And so to the Monkey Business…

What I can share with you, by way of entertainment now, is an anecdote of simian mischief.The wandering monkeys, roaming, begging; and I was to find to my amusement — scavenging. Picture the scene, within the sacred walls of the ashram — a day of no words, no speech and for the advanced adept, no thought. Souls from many countries and all parts of India, some of them travelling for days, are here for this special day. It’s the anniversary of a great soul’s ascension. We gather in Peaceful unity, a multitude as one; to be a living prayer of Peace — to radiate it beyond the sacred mountain to wherever Peace had been prayed for. But there was fun in the air — told to you as a movie.

After hours of silent meditation; I walk gracefully on to an outside ledge with my breakfast in hand, in a pristine shiny silver dish…enjoying the state of inner grace. Radiating Peace to the world. But two or maybe a watchful third eye? — a certain someone is poised and ready on a rooftop above me — about to display another kind of agile grace as I mindfully caress the dish and that breakfast to be. My Hanuman monkey teacher, in one expertly effortless movement, swoops down and ever so swiftly but gently, lifts the shiny object from my hand and then so elegantly swings himself upwards; landing with the calm assurance of a master acrobat — on the opposite rooftop!

Shock! horror? none of it — it was nothing short of mastery…and with no safety net! Though not everyone agreed. In the ever present movie scene the Monkey God Sri Hanuman’s descendants are now being pursued by a posse of catapult wielding young Yogi brothers assigned the task of keeping the crafty marauding monkeys at bay.

But for that morning, though it wasn’t strictly cricket, I can give it a sporty scoreline from here, my nest in the sky, perched safely at a time distance of more than forty years hence. Though whence is hence is a mere passing time matter that might not matter, up there at the summit.

You all know the score…

Hanuman Marauders — 1 v Human Catapulters — 0 …. Go Monkeys!

The Master Acrobat in Meditation

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Louis Cennamo

British musician, poet, creative writer and healer. Writing from the heart where intuition transcends every day thinking. The Presence of Love does the rest.