Christie Pits, Toronto
All Are Moving
The weather was favourable for moving through. Temperatures were the best. The sunshine darted out from the west. Breezes were like a yogi’s exhalation—easy and consistent. I was inclined to go east-west and not to miss this fun.
Others were out. I met Mrs. Sharma. Also another Sharma, a Mister. No relation to each other. “Sharma” is the “Smith” equivalent of India. I also got greeted by, let’s say, Miss New-Age.
“Are you doing kirtan at Christie Pits?” she asked.
“Not now, but later, at 7, on the temple’s outdoor staircase. You’re always welcome.”
“I’ll make it some time.” she reassured.
You see, every time I go out I’m in a position to invite. We are supposed to be a giving community. That’s how we were trained by our guru, Prabhupada. To give Krishna, in some form, is our mandate.
I saw cyclists moving, automobiles and pedestrians. I thought, where is everyone going, really? Towards a casket or an ash-filled urn? In one form of analysis it appears we are all moving, only to be stopped; we are living to die.
It can’t be so grim. Let us think beyond the external. Let motivation behind mobilization be of the spirit.
With somewhat of a warming in our midst we through to go back to the staircase and the kirtan at 7pm. We did serenade the night. Our hearts softened. I wish all the Sharmas and Smiths were with us.
May the Source be with you!