Like so many stories from the Bhagavatam texts where sage and king interact, we read about how two travelling monks, Narada and Angira, stopped in on King Chitraketu, who was in a state of depression. The monks were there to console him. The cause of his grief was the loss of a son who was poisoned, a plot by jealous stepmothers. The king was devastated, as you can imagine.
After a great endeavour to have progeny, one Queen was able to deliver a child, but destiny had it that healthy young boy was not to live long. The king and his wife were thrilled at the birth of thier son, but then circumstances threw them into sorrow. The utter reality was staring at the dual nature of the world.
Sages were meant to travel, to go about and encourage people in the message of transcendence, to assist individuals in seeing the bigger picture. The truth of seeing this bigger picture, a journey we go through, stretching from time immemorial, to the present and beyond, is a difficult one to swallow. We come here encased in a body for an X number of years to learn many lessons. The pressing pursuit towards happiness in this material world, is concluded with some results, some good and some bad. It gets frustrating. This world is frustrating. The interaction with people is frustrating. Our endeavours are best situated in giving attention to the Supreme, to surrendering.
Our delineation over the story, and the message of the sages, was our topic for discussion at our morning Bhagavatam class. A dozen or so of us were sitting at the south east corner of the temple room, a practice we go through daily which helps the speaker and the listener gain a sense of focus on Krishna, ultimately.
I reminded myself that this is a fixation for me as I prepare myself for a journey of going about to encourage people (as Narada and Angira did) in the direction of surrender. Tomorrow I meet Jeff, the first of several brahmacharis (monks) accompanying me in the mission, as I will walk, and they, distribute precious books in the message of the Bhagavatam.
For walking I had another day of 10 km.