In our ashram, in what are called Prabhupada’s quarters, I sat and admired the view of the outside. The window facing south is a cathedral-arched frame exposing the sky. Cloudy and hazy with sunshine trying to pierce through is how I see the space above. On one level slightly below, spring-budding branches dance on the chest of Vayu, the master of the wind. Victorian house rooftops are also within my vision.
A leisurely park, recently renovated, is just south of the homes, adding green space to the neighbourhood. May (I pray) it stay that way.
“We don’t need any more highrises around here,” I mentioned to Gaurachandra of Hungary. He had come to join and bring that view of optimism, a view which leads the eyes to contemplate the lake five kilometres further south—one of the Great Lakes.
People living in the city forget about this massive body of water, a body of beauty. We need to revere such bodies and not lust in greed over how much profit can be made from building and blocking a God-given waterfront view.
Developers—I sometimes brood over their exploits, unless, of course, they are allowing trees and foliage to do their thing.
In 2015, I walked across the city of Detroit on a one-day pilgrimage. Some of the neighbourhoods had been devastated by neglect. Some homes had been broken into years before. Some had been burned down, leaving empty lots. These dynamics have somehow allowed nature to take its course. That’s glorious!
May the Source be with you!