My smartphone experienced some damage last Sunday on the Atlantic coast—Peggy’s Cove—when the top rock of an inukshuk fell on it, shattering the glass. The incident warranted a ride—compliments of Nanda—to the phone clinic, and there, repairs were done; right here in Toronto.
The trip back to the ashram was a hot one, on foot. As usual, I bump into people I know. There was Dennis, who’s been coming for years to the temple.
There were new people; a homeless person who thought I was from Tibet and got to know of the mother culture to Buddhism, which is Vedic culture from India.
“I’m from Canada but go to India every year,” I said to him.
I met a woman who was walking behind me. She sneezed from somewhat near. I turned around.
“I’m not following you, just going to my apartment,” she said.
She pointed to a tree next to her apartment building and said that there’s the home of a woodpecker. He taps all the time. He found a girl-friend and now they’re going to have young ones, she said with quite the sense of confidentiality. They live in a hole in the tree.
“He keeps tapping just like you guys do with your drums,” she said, referring to Krishna monks making sound on our mrdungas.
Anyway, she was open and friendly, and that’s what counts. Most people are willing to be our good friend, but talking about philosophy is not most people’s forte. Let us encourage everyone to chant.
May the Source be with you!