Decent Event
Thunder Bay, Ontario
The Lakehead Unitarian Fellowship Centre was the perfect venue and location for a presentation on the Nine Easy Steps of Devotion: The Yoga of Love. The space was rented in the morning for a class on Buddhism. The afternoon was our turn. Dr. Jani and his wife, Sneha, organized the program and food. The space filled up quickly.
Our opener was the chant, “Hare Krishna”, first hearing the mantra then response. From there I facilitated an interactive walk through of the 7 additional steps. I admitted to the group about the number 9 being a lie.
“There’s the 10th one – dancing.” The music stirred up people. The dance was spontaneous. And so people enjoyed and for the most part understood the best things in life are simple.
My introductory words were, “What we are about to present in walking you through 9 steps is not alien.” Life doesn’t have to be so complicated. It seemed to me that during the sessions, the word ‘service’ struck sensitive nerves. Aristotle wrote about serving as the fruit of wisdom.
A woman raised her hand saying that friends often criticize when she goes out of her way to provide volunteer service or to help someone. “Why are you being such a martyr?” they challenge.
If you believe in the physical law of karma, action with subsequent reaction, then let us take note of good responses that follow good reactions. Sacrifice is good and the world needs saints. Let dogs bark. My answer came off a bit more sophisticated, but there was the gist of it.
Several university professors came, including Prof. Berg, yoga teachers, philosophy students and people of various backgrounds. There was a good buzz in the atmosphere and the special topping on the cake, the prasad, blessed food, made the event so much more memorable.
Yes, at the crown of Lake Superior, said to be the largest fresh water body in the world, is the modest city of Thunder Bay. We always have a good time here.
8 Km
B L O G S P O T
Tuesday, 12 January 2010
Saturday, January 9th, 2010
Nutmeg: A Krishna Scent
Thunder Bay, Ontario
While trekking and making the crispy sound with feet on dry snow, I flashed back to the night before. I was in the home of a couple offering me a light meal. Cauliflower cream soup was on the menu. Warm and tasty at the first slurp, it threw me back to 50 years before. I must admit I had that moment, a real moment of an endearing past. Mom was there and I could see her with the hot pot of the same dish. The nutmeg spice made the difference. It was that aroma, if anything, that helped to capture the nostalgic moment. I was about to explode in emotion. Only a tear was about to slide off into the dish which did not prescribe any more salt. Now back to our current time. I sat curious about the prep’s ingredients. All was there as Mom used to make. I got hurled back to the 50’s, to the country house at supper time. The atmosphere was ‘family’. It was comforting.
The cook, a very calm woman with an equally calm husband, is a family lawyer by profession.
“You must see a lot of broken hearts amongst clients?” I asked her after inquiring about the recipe.
“A lot, an awful lot!” she said affirmedly.
“What accounts for the great amount of dysfunctionality?”
“Too much high expectation,” she said, “is one of the main causes.”
Back on the road (Moutain Park Road to be precise), outside Thunder Bay, I was completing my routine daily walk and heading back for a meal with the Jani family. There they had invited Professor Berg of Lakehead University. He is a lover of “The Mahabharata” and “The Ramayana”, and a teacher of those epics. When nighttime did befall Prof. Berg arrived with companion. We immersed ourselves in the flavour and taste of something so very eastern and not the cauliflower soup. The post meal dialogue was the consequential ethics of The Gita’s subject matter. “What is moral?” was Arjuna’s quandary. It was so refreshing hearing a scholar’s view on the depth of the Gita and how it includes the subject of family and teachers, and acting in their defense and offence. Bhisma and Drona to be sacrificed.
For the evening chat, issues of the Gita were explored, but in the end, it was nutmeg, a flash of Krishna’s scent, that occupied my thought as eyelids closed for the night.
8 Km
Thunder Bay, Ontario
While trekking and making the crispy sound with feet on dry snow, I flashed back to the night before. I was in the home of a couple offering me a light meal. Cauliflower cream soup was on the menu. Warm and tasty at the first slurp, it threw me back to 50 years before. I must admit I had that moment, a real moment of an endearing past. Mom was there and I could see her with the hot pot of the same dish. The nutmeg spice made the difference. It was that aroma, if anything, that helped to capture the nostalgic moment. I was about to explode in emotion. Only a tear was about to slide off into the dish which did not prescribe any more salt. Now back to our current time. I sat curious about the prep’s ingredients. All was there as Mom used to make. I got hurled back to the 50’s, to the country house at supper time. The atmosphere was ‘family’. It was comforting.
The cook, a very calm woman with an equally calm husband, is a family lawyer by profession.
“You must see a lot of broken hearts amongst clients?” I asked her after inquiring about the recipe.
“A lot, an awful lot!” she said affirmedly.
“What accounts for the great amount of dysfunctionality?”
“Too much high expectation,” she said, “is one of the main causes.”
Back on the road (Moutain Park Road to be precise), outside Thunder Bay, I was completing my routine daily walk and heading back for a meal with the Jani family. There they had invited Professor Berg of Lakehead University. He is a lover of “The Mahabharata” and “The Ramayana”, and a teacher of those epics. When nighttime did befall Prof. Berg arrived with companion. We immersed ourselves in the flavour and taste of something so very eastern and not the cauliflower soup. The post meal dialogue was the consequential ethics of The Gita’s subject matter. “What is moral?” was Arjuna’s quandary. It was so refreshing hearing a scholar’s view on the depth of the Gita and how it includes the subject of family and teachers, and acting in their defense and offence. Bhisma and Drona to be sacrificed.
For the evening chat, issues of the Gita were explored, but in the end, it was nutmeg, a flash of Krishna’s scent, that occupied my thought as eyelids closed for the night.
8 Km
Monday, 11 January 2010
Friday, January 8th, 2010
Killing and thieving! Thou shalt not do these things!
Scarborough, Ontario
My driver to the Scarborough Centre described his recent trip to Vrindavan, India. Not all people who go there have such pure intentions as he had found out. He had been in the courtyard of a very popular temple and ended up by circumstance where a group of elderly women were standing for adoring the deity of Krishna. It was rather crowded situation and people sometimes joke about congestion in the Indian public “you get a free body massage just by standing there.”
After he offered his pranam and obeisance by getting on his knees, he noticed that the wallet from his side pocket was missing. He lost his money, ID and other documents. It was painful for him at the time.
Pick pocketing is common in many of these sacred places. It’s a vulture’s game. Pilgrims are vulnerable. My friend was “taken aback” (as he put it) that some female visitors would be the culprits. By talking to others in the area, apparently, age and gender draw no line in this habit when it comes to theft. It seems that people are not well informed about karmic repercussions.
On the more positive note, my friend did convey his joy about a major conquest back home in Scarborough. He spoke about a family that he recently converted to vegetarianism. “A whole family- Dad, mom and four kids!” he said it as it was a great triumph. I have to agree. Animal slaughter is an extreme means for obtaining food.
Killing and thieving! Thou shalt not do these things!
After an evening of lively chanting, talk and food, my friend drove me home to the ashram. It was 10 pm and I hadn’t yet walked for the day, so I told him:
“Thou shalt walk!”
and
“Thou shalt chant!”
Of course I was referring to myself, so I did those two things until midnight.
7 Km
Scarborough, Ontario
My driver to the Scarborough Centre described his recent trip to Vrindavan, India. Not all people who go there have such pure intentions as he had found out. He had been in the courtyard of a very popular temple and ended up by circumstance where a group of elderly women were standing for adoring the deity of Krishna. It was rather crowded situation and people sometimes joke about congestion in the Indian public “you get a free body massage just by standing there.”
After he offered his pranam and obeisance by getting on his knees, he noticed that the wallet from his side pocket was missing. He lost his money, ID and other documents. It was painful for him at the time.
Pick pocketing is common in many of these sacred places. It’s a vulture’s game. Pilgrims are vulnerable. My friend was “taken aback” (as he put it) that some female visitors would be the culprits. By talking to others in the area, apparently, age and gender draw no line in this habit when it comes to theft. It seems that people are not well informed about karmic repercussions.
On the more positive note, my friend did convey his joy about a major conquest back home in Scarborough. He spoke about a family that he recently converted to vegetarianism. “A whole family- Dad, mom and four kids!” he said it as it was a great triumph. I have to agree. Animal slaughter is an extreme means for obtaining food.
Killing and thieving! Thou shalt not do these things!
After an evening of lively chanting, talk and food, my friend drove me home to the ashram. It was 10 pm and I hadn’t yet walked for the day, so I told him:
“Thou shalt walk!”
and
“Thou shalt chant!”
Of course I was referring to myself, so I did those two things until midnight.
7 Km
Thursday, January 7th, 2010
Sisters and a Brother
Toronto, Ontario
She has been or continues to be a good sister. Her name is Ksiracora (pronounced Keer-chore) and I say “has been” from the point of view that she will be moving away to the province of BC. She will come to visit her friends in Ontario in the future. A gathering at a small vegan café was the venue for a going away party.
She worked hard with the rest of us, selling lollipops on the street, raising funds for the down payment on the current temple, a century building. We were all young then. I first met her on the street in the summer of ’73. She and her friends were so energetic and wholesome-looking. I saw them and thought “What good karma kids they are!” I invited them to our ashram. They came and their lives turned around. She was 17 at the time and she looked very pretty (even a brahmacari, monk could see that), and she still is even now in her grandma years. Her soul is even more beautiful.
Earlier on in the day, another sister came within the purview of my day. Both sisters are called sisters because we share the same guru father, Srila Prabhupada.
This second sister, Bhadra Priya, who also has a beautiful soul, is struggling with cancer. It is confirmed that her days here on the earthly plane are limited and she is doing her utmost to make the final days the most spiritually saturated of all. We pray for her because she deserves all the love and respect. She worked very hard for the mission. She is very pure and courageous.
She and I received our diksa (initiation) from Prabhupada at the same time. It was on a Saturday afternoon in the fall of ’73. Our priest was Sri Pati, a Krishna devotee from the UK. It was about the quietest ceremony even seen on Earth. There was the sacrificial fire, Sri Pati, Bhadra Priya, and I. Once in a while a person would pop his or her head in to see how all was going on.
She is doing everything just right – hearing, chanting, looking at the archana (deity) and associating with like-minded friends. She told me something shocking along with another sister, Nirmala. “Our god sister, Rasajna has passed on.”
“Oh my God!” I thought, “such a gracious soul.” Our guru had called her the greatest actress in the world. And she was. She played Surpanakha, the vixen from “The Ramayan” and Consort Sin in “The Age of Kali”. Bless her, Krishna!
My final God relative for the day was Rsi. He came by for prasadam (blessed food). He remembers those old times so well. He does great impersonations of characters that would visit our humble ashram on Gerrard St. Wow! Has he got details down! Rsi has had it somewhat rough in his life but he has been busy, has a good wife and a stepson.
I’m very happy for Rsi, my brother, and all the sisters previously mentioned. Their lives are all anointed because they chose the spiritual path of bhakti, loving devotion.
10 Km
Toronto, Ontario
She has been or continues to be a good sister. Her name is Ksiracora (pronounced Keer-chore) and I say “has been” from the point of view that she will be moving away to the province of BC. She will come to visit her friends in Ontario in the future. A gathering at a small vegan café was the venue for a going away party.
She worked hard with the rest of us, selling lollipops on the street, raising funds for the down payment on the current temple, a century building. We were all young then. I first met her on the street in the summer of ’73. She and her friends were so energetic and wholesome-looking. I saw them and thought “What good karma kids they are!” I invited them to our ashram. They came and their lives turned around. She was 17 at the time and she looked very pretty (even a brahmacari, monk could see that), and she still is even now in her grandma years. Her soul is even more beautiful.
Earlier on in the day, another sister came within the purview of my day. Both sisters are called sisters because we share the same guru father, Srila Prabhupada.
This second sister, Bhadra Priya, who also has a beautiful soul, is struggling with cancer. It is confirmed that her days here on the earthly plane are limited and she is doing her utmost to make the final days the most spiritually saturated of all. We pray for her because she deserves all the love and respect. She worked very hard for the mission. She is very pure and courageous.
She and I received our diksa (initiation) from Prabhupada at the same time. It was on a Saturday afternoon in the fall of ’73. Our priest was Sri Pati, a Krishna devotee from the UK. It was about the quietest ceremony even seen on Earth. There was the sacrificial fire, Sri Pati, Bhadra Priya, and I. Once in a while a person would pop his or her head in to see how all was going on.
She is doing everything just right – hearing, chanting, looking at the archana (deity) and associating with like-minded friends. She told me something shocking along with another sister, Nirmala. “Our god sister, Rasajna has passed on.”
“Oh my God!” I thought, “such a gracious soul.” Our guru had called her the greatest actress in the world. And she was. She played Surpanakha, the vixen from “The Ramayan” and Consort Sin in “The Age of Kali”. Bless her, Krishna!
My final God relative for the day was Rsi. He came by for prasadam (blessed food). He remembers those old times so well. He does great impersonations of characters that would visit our humble ashram on Gerrard St. Wow! Has he got details down! Rsi has had it somewhat rough in his life but he has been busy, has a good wife and a stepson.
I’m very happy for Rsi, my brother, and all the sisters previously mentioned. Their lives are all anointed because they chose the spiritual path of bhakti, loving devotion.
10 Km
Thursday, 7 January 2010
Wednesday, January 6th, 2010
Clearing the Smoke
Brampton, Ontario
The man puffed out dancing smoke from his mystic stick; the cloud rose to merge with his salt and pepper beard and blurred the view from his bi-speckled eyes. I don’t think he is proud of his habit. There is no look of glamour there.
The glamour is to be found in the ravine just off of Yonge St. a bit east. The day was clear. I could see my winter breath. It didn’t come out as casual as the smoking man’s special effects. I thank guru for sparing me of what I could have been doing. Could I have become a cig addict?
Descending the metal staircase to the ravine’s depth, I took to the day’s getting lost – lost in thoughts which were mostly positive to do with devotional service. When I found the end of the rigorous trail I turned back and prepared for an evening satsang in Brampton. The family host was thrilled. Ajamil, a bhajan buddie, accompanied me. I was amazed at the turnout for a Wednesday, the next to the worst day of the week, Tuesday. Actually, in devotional life there is never a dull moment, although it’s not out of human range to make something exciting look pale.
Life is a blast in the spiritual lane and a road of misery otherwise.
When the satsang ended, I put a book, “Journey of Self Discovery”, authored by Prabhupada, into the hands of a gracious seeking recipient. That was a good feeling. Another good feeling came. Earlier, while I trekked that rigorous trail east of Yonge, a person came to mind from two years ago. The person sought counseling and expressed the struggling desire to get out of a bad relationship. I gave my spiritual advice about surrender to dharma. I wondered what happened to that entangled soul from two years before? Will I ever see this person again?
Lo and behold, that soul was sitting in the crowd at the satsang. That soul smiled. I asked “Is everything alright now?” during a more private time.
“Yes” was the reply while the spouse and kids stood by all in smiles too. It seemed that the smoke had cleared.
I can’t think of anything more mystical. It’s all His doing. It can’t be coincidence.
6 Km
Brampton, Ontario
The man puffed out dancing smoke from his mystic stick; the cloud rose to merge with his salt and pepper beard and blurred the view from his bi-speckled eyes. I don’t think he is proud of his habit. There is no look of glamour there.
The glamour is to be found in the ravine just off of Yonge St. a bit east. The day was clear. I could see my winter breath. It didn’t come out as casual as the smoking man’s special effects. I thank guru for sparing me of what I could have been doing. Could I have become a cig addict?
Descending the metal staircase to the ravine’s depth, I took to the day’s getting lost – lost in thoughts which were mostly positive to do with devotional service. When I found the end of the rigorous trail I turned back and prepared for an evening satsang in Brampton. The family host was thrilled. Ajamil, a bhajan buddie, accompanied me. I was amazed at the turnout for a Wednesday, the next to the worst day of the week, Tuesday. Actually, in devotional life there is never a dull moment, although it’s not out of human range to make something exciting look pale.
Life is a blast in the spiritual lane and a road of misery otherwise.
When the satsang ended, I put a book, “Journey of Self Discovery”, authored by Prabhupada, into the hands of a gracious seeking recipient. That was a good feeling. Another good feeling came. Earlier, while I trekked that rigorous trail east of Yonge, a person came to mind from two years ago. The person sought counseling and expressed the struggling desire to get out of a bad relationship. I gave my spiritual advice about surrender to dharma. I wondered what happened to that entangled soul from two years before? Will I ever see this person again?
Lo and behold, that soul was sitting in the crowd at the satsang. That soul smiled. I asked “Is everything alright now?” during a more private time.
“Yes” was the reply while the spouse and kids stood by all in smiles too. It seemed that the smoke had cleared.
I can’t think of anything more mystical. It’s all His doing. It can’t be coincidence.
6 Km
Tuesday, January 5th, 2010
Servants
Toronto, Ontario
The trail on Moore Park Ravine was a whisper-friendly space. Quiet wind hurled barren looking trees. One of those trees gave a crack of a sound. I looked and could not detect which tree was speaking. It was one of those swaying giants behind me though.
Maybe the one trying to communicate was trying to release itself; its soul wanting freedom. The snap, crack or pop sound came again. At least I know that the forest was expressing its fragility through the sound because one week prior when I made this trek, a few meters behind a tree did made its crash. It had done its service and now it was time for its demise and its soul to jump to its next form.
I was not there when he came down for the tumble. I did not have to shout “timber!” like some lumberjack. I did not have to play beaver and move him on to build a lodge. I let him be, had to let him be. Not enough strength. The park’s wardens would do that because that jolly giant became an obstacle for trekkers and runners.
Anyways, I was alone but not alone. I was with them – the trees. And I was with their maker.
It was a dark but a perceptive early night because of the presence of nature’s frozen milk – the snow. It was all white; nothing yellow even though dogs make their way through here with their masters.
In truth, there was only one master in this ravine, and I and the trees were the servants, equally.
9 Km
Toronto, Ontario
The trail on Moore Park Ravine was a whisper-friendly space. Quiet wind hurled barren looking trees. One of those trees gave a crack of a sound. I looked and could not detect which tree was speaking. It was one of those swaying giants behind me though.
Maybe the one trying to communicate was trying to release itself; its soul wanting freedom. The snap, crack or pop sound came again. At least I know that the forest was expressing its fragility through the sound because one week prior when I made this trek, a few meters behind a tree did made its crash. It had done its service and now it was time for its demise and its soul to jump to its next form.
I was not there when he came down for the tumble. I did not have to shout “timber!” like some lumberjack. I did not have to play beaver and move him on to build a lodge. I let him be, had to let him be. Not enough strength. The park’s wardens would do that because that jolly giant became an obstacle for trekkers and runners.
Anyways, I was alone but not alone. I was with them – the trees. And I was with their maker.
It was a dark but a perceptive early night because of the presence of nature’s frozen milk – the snow. It was all white; nothing yellow even though dogs make their way through here with their masters.
In truth, there was only one master in this ravine, and I and the trees were the servants, equally.
9 Km
Tuesday, 5 January 2010
Monday, January 4th, 2010
For History
Montreal, Quebec
There is something I’m most excited about. Last fall in a gathering of Krishna devotees in Venables Valley, British Columbia, a firm decision was made to archive documents and any related matter to do with early ISKCON Canada. We are looking at getting ourselves organized for the posterity cause. This afternoon, a second generation young woman, Radha Krishna, accepted the offer to head up the project. With her background in archival education, you could not come up with a greater find. Thank you, Radha.
Theologians and history buffs should like the kind of stuff that we will gather of the recent past – ’67 and on. We are anticipating a book or books on the early struggles of establishing or transplanting an ancient culture to the New World. It is remarkable what transpired; that in the core of counter-culture emerged a consciousness of Krishna down in the lower eastside of New York. The essential teachings of Earth’s human cradle, in India, surfaced in the spearhead civilization of the 20th century, America. Canada was the second recipient of this happening and that will be the focus of the project. Thank you, Krishna!
While this decision occupied happy moments, some time was reserved to address personal attacks via internet. It is indeed unfortunate that internet has been the medium for a ‘put down’ culture based largely on hearsay, rumours and gossip. Shame!
That all redeeming activity – walking, puts to temporary ease, anxiety of various kinds. And, of course, it can’t go without chanting the maha mantra, Hare Krishna Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna Hare Hare / Hare Rama Hare Rama Rama Rama Hare Hare.
3 Km
Montreal, Quebec
There is something I’m most excited about. Last fall in a gathering of Krishna devotees in Venables Valley, British Columbia, a firm decision was made to archive documents and any related matter to do with early ISKCON Canada. We are looking at getting ourselves organized for the posterity cause. This afternoon, a second generation young woman, Radha Krishna, accepted the offer to head up the project. With her background in archival education, you could not come up with a greater find. Thank you, Radha.
Theologians and history buffs should like the kind of stuff that we will gather of the recent past – ’67 and on. We are anticipating a book or books on the early struggles of establishing or transplanting an ancient culture to the New World. It is remarkable what transpired; that in the core of counter-culture emerged a consciousness of Krishna down in the lower eastside of New York. The essential teachings of Earth’s human cradle, in India, surfaced in the spearhead civilization of the 20th century, America. Canada was the second recipient of this happening and that will be the focus of the project. Thank you, Krishna!
While this decision occupied happy moments, some time was reserved to address personal attacks via internet. It is indeed unfortunate that internet has been the medium for a ‘put down’ culture based largely on hearsay, rumours and gossip. Shame!
That all redeeming activity – walking, puts to temporary ease, anxiety of various kinds. And, of course, it can’t go without chanting the maha mantra, Hare Krishna Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna Hare Hare / Hare Rama Hare Rama Rama Rama Hare Hare.
3 Km
Sunday, January 3rd, 2010
Returns
Montreal, Quebec
It usually happens. After New Year’s, winter comes on in full force. Today is no exception. I took the economy mode of travel, car pooling it to Montreal on $30. A snow storm doesn’t look at your poor man’s way of going from point A to B with sympathy or cast any mercy. Mother Nature can be ruthless.
It is because of weather that I ended up late for the reunion of early Hare Krishna converts from the Montreal district. In 1967, the year of Canada’s centennial, some American Krishna followers came north of the border to initiate or start a chapter in Montreal. In the following year, the founder, Srila Prabhupada, came to deal with immigration visa issues. Without presenting details, a rich history started – a history about a surging form of spirituality.
On this evening, some of the early Montreal pioneers of ISKCON of that period came to tell of their experiences to a full house at the ISKCON centre on Pie IV Blvd. A number of these souls come rarely for various reasons. Life gets busy I guess. Nevertheless, it was a great idea organizing such a reunion. It’s nice to see some golden oldies coming back for a return.
Once the program was completed, I was successful in recruiting two people to a late walk with me on quiet residential streets followed by a quick glance at a wildlife magazine. I’m a fan of the wild and I couldn’t help being struck by an article on “The Return of the Black Foot Ferret.” It has been my own experience from trekking through the prairies that prairie dogs (a type of gopher) rule these grassy flat plains. Ferrets, which vanished 70 years ago, were predators and controlled the prairie dog population. Apparently a plague, yersinia pestis, was the culprit.
Thanks to the Toronto Zoo, this cute creature has been bred for purposes of releasing them back to their natural habitat. This past year, stocks of these whiskered, slinky rodents were let loose to do their thing in Grassland National Park in Saskatchewan. It’s another one of those ecological victories.
By the time I rested, I was content on two counts – the return of the ferret and the return of the Vaisnava pioneers.
4 Km
Montreal, Quebec
It usually happens. After New Year’s, winter comes on in full force. Today is no exception. I took the economy mode of travel, car pooling it to Montreal on $30. A snow storm doesn’t look at your poor man’s way of going from point A to B with sympathy or cast any mercy. Mother Nature can be ruthless.
It is because of weather that I ended up late for the reunion of early Hare Krishna converts from the Montreal district. In 1967, the year of Canada’s centennial, some American Krishna followers came north of the border to initiate or start a chapter in Montreal. In the following year, the founder, Srila Prabhupada, came to deal with immigration visa issues. Without presenting details, a rich history started – a history about a surging form of spirituality.
On this evening, some of the early Montreal pioneers of ISKCON of that period came to tell of their experiences to a full house at the ISKCON centre on Pie IV Blvd. A number of these souls come rarely for various reasons. Life gets busy I guess. Nevertheless, it was a great idea organizing such a reunion. It’s nice to see some golden oldies coming back for a return.
Once the program was completed, I was successful in recruiting two people to a late walk with me on quiet residential streets followed by a quick glance at a wildlife magazine. I’m a fan of the wild and I couldn’t help being struck by an article on “The Return of the Black Foot Ferret.” It has been my own experience from trekking through the prairies that prairie dogs (a type of gopher) rule these grassy flat plains. Ferrets, which vanished 70 years ago, were predators and controlled the prairie dog population. Apparently a plague, yersinia pestis, was the culprit.
Thanks to the Toronto Zoo, this cute creature has been bred for purposes of releasing them back to their natural habitat. This past year, stocks of these whiskered, slinky rodents were let loose to do their thing in Grassland National Park in Saskatchewan. It’s another one of those ecological victories.
By the time I rested, I was content on two counts – the return of the ferret and the return of the Vaisnava pioneers.
4 Km
Sunday, 3 January 2010
Saturday, January 2nd, 2010
Who Is A Devotee?
Milton, Ontario
An early hike in Sawmill Valley, Mississauga, was the main physical activity for Peter from Detroit, Rajasuya, who is accustomed to indoor treadmill walking, and myself. Bumpy hard ice was what constituted the walking surface. You have to hold your traction in order to save yourself from a fall.
For the late morning we drove to the home of a Mauritian family for brunch. The main item, my favorite, is lightly sautéed asparagus, which I consider ideal walking food. A healthy attendance filled up the new home for this home welcoming event. I engaged the gathering in verse memorization. It was 18:68 from the Bhagavat-Gita beginning with, “ya idam paramam guhyam…”
In this profound passage Krishna reveals what really is pleasing to Him. He is impressed by anyone who shares his teachings. As a reward He paves the way for devotion and offers a return to His world for the efforts.
A person in the gathering asked about the term used in the translation of the verse, “It says ‘One who explains this secret to my devotee…..does this mean we should not share the message with the non-devotee?”
In answer to this I suggested to read the purport by Srila Prabupada. There it becomes clear that “devotee” means anyone who is receptive to spiritual subject matter.
Later in the evening a person visiting our temple in Toronto where I finally ended up for the day mentioned that he was not a devotee. In response to this I said, “You are definitely a devotee otherwise you wouldn’t be here. A devotee is one who shows even the slightest trace of devotion.”
9 Km
Milton, Ontario
An early hike in Sawmill Valley, Mississauga, was the main physical activity for Peter from Detroit, Rajasuya, who is accustomed to indoor treadmill walking, and myself. Bumpy hard ice was what constituted the walking surface. You have to hold your traction in order to save yourself from a fall.
For the late morning we drove to the home of a Mauritian family for brunch. The main item, my favorite, is lightly sautéed asparagus, which I consider ideal walking food. A healthy attendance filled up the new home for this home welcoming event. I engaged the gathering in verse memorization. It was 18:68 from the Bhagavat-Gita beginning with, “ya idam paramam guhyam…”
In this profound passage Krishna reveals what really is pleasing to Him. He is impressed by anyone who shares his teachings. As a reward He paves the way for devotion and offers a return to His world for the efforts.
A person in the gathering asked about the term used in the translation of the verse, “It says ‘One who explains this secret to my devotee…..does this mean we should not share the message with the non-devotee?”
In answer to this I suggested to read the purport by Srila Prabupada. There it becomes clear that “devotee” means anyone who is receptive to spiritual subject matter.
Later in the evening a person visiting our temple in Toronto where I finally ended up for the day mentioned that he was not a devotee. In response to this I said, “You are definitely a devotee otherwise you wouldn’t be here. A devotee is one who shows even the slightest trace of devotion.”
9 Km
Saturday, 2 January 2010
Friday, January 1st, 2010
Feeling At Home
North York, Ontario
Well, family came together. My sister Pauline hosted us. It was a two brother and three sister sibling reunion. Her twin, Paul, is way out west in Vancouver Island and did not attend. When you have led the monastic life you end up being a bit of a misfit amongst kith and kin unless of course, they ask questions to do with spirituality. In our case that doesn’t happen. They prefer to keep everything fairly family oriented and secular. I’m fine with that for twenty minutes or so. Then I start aching for kirtan (chanting) or engaging in philosophical discussion.
I like my family. They are great. Our bond is strong yet at the same time they and I are planets apart. The cultural differences are obvious. Pauline was kind enough to keep her great meal strictly vegetarian. That was thoughtful. My brother-in-law Jim is vegetarian and his partner, my sister is almost there. Out of eight adults at the dinner table you have got one quarter to one third of us who don’t eat body parts. It’s not a terribly bad percentage. And, after all, most people on a carnivorous diet do consume veggies and grains. That makes them part vegetarian.
The meal Pauline assembled had us all hitting some common ground yet still I felt to be in my own universe. When I am at the home of a devotee family there is a sense of oneness because everything is quite Krishna-centric. Still I feel the simultaneous black sheep or ugly duckling syndrome. I guess it’s because I’m single and a swami. There’s not many of us in the world. We are a rare breed. We move from temple to temple. We hold the same interests and are very mission oriented. We get together (Monks in Mass) and enjoy each others company at festival times. There was even a retreat organized for us swamis and gurus in Uttar Pradesh, in the city of Ujjain last fall. That association was just sweet, well beyond sweet.
It’s because I’m hooked on the swami lifestyle, very nomadic and very other worldly, that I’ve found a comfort zone. Otherwise I wouldn’t be doing this.
Where I do get satisfaction is seeing individuals become inspired to move forward in their spiritual life. I see people wanting more of this higher consciousness and it’s very, very gratifying.
Yes, I do feel at home.
4 Km
North York, Ontario
Well, family came together. My sister Pauline hosted us. It was a two brother and three sister sibling reunion. Her twin, Paul, is way out west in Vancouver Island and did not attend. When you have led the monastic life you end up being a bit of a misfit amongst kith and kin unless of course, they ask questions to do with spirituality. In our case that doesn’t happen. They prefer to keep everything fairly family oriented and secular. I’m fine with that for twenty minutes or so. Then I start aching for kirtan (chanting) or engaging in philosophical discussion.
I like my family. They are great. Our bond is strong yet at the same time they and I are planets apart. The cultural differences are obvious. Pauline was kind enough to keep her great meal strictly vegetarian. That was thoughtful. My brother-in-law Jim is vegetarian and his partner, my sister is almost there. Out of eight adults at the dinner table you have got one quarter to one third of us who don’t eat body parts. It’s not a terribly bad percentage. And, after all, most people on a carnivorous diet do consume veggies and grains. That makes them part vegetarian.
The meal Pauline assembled had us all hitting some common ground yet still I felt to be in my own universe. When I am at the home of a devotee family there is a sense of oneness because everything is quite Krishna-centric. Still I feel the simultaneous black sheep or ugly duckling syndrome. I guess it’s because I’m single and a swami. There’s not many of us in the world. We are a rare breed. We move from temple to temple. We hold the same interests and are very mission oriented. We get together (Monks in Mass) and enjoy each others company at festival times. There was even a retreat organized for us swamis and gurus in Uttar Pradesh, in the city of Ujjain last fall. That association was just sweet, well beyond sweet.
It’s because I’m hooked on the swami lifestyle, very nomadic and very other worldly, that I’ve found a comfort zone. Otherwise I wouldn’t be doing this.
Where I do get satisfaction is seeing individuals become inspired to move forward in their spiritual life. I see people wanting more of this higher consciousness and it’s very, very gratifying.
Yes, I do feel at home.
4 Km
Friday, 1 January 2010
Thursday, December 31st, 2009
The Start/2010
Toronto, Ontario
It is customary for members of ISKCON, monks and laypersons, friends and the like, to gravitate to urban centres at New Year's count-down. What a remarkable way to usher in a year of promises!
Our routine in this city is for chanting enthusiasts to jam themselves into subway cars and head southbound for Queen St. As the doors to the subway car close, all eyes are on me to take the lead in chanting. I must spontaneously pick a tune, and so at this night what came to mind was a popular tune established by legendary sannyasi (monk), Vishnu Jan Swami. The public in the subway car, mostly youths, picked up on the spirit of the chant and the beat of the drum played by one of the stars of our youth, Keshav Sharma. As we approached busy Queen St., I hit a nerve of caution. There's often security, city police, standing at the subway doors. I was feeling a bit sensitive about that. In fact, one year, as the doors to the subway car opened, a sudden blast of mantra with drums and loud cymbals blared out into the underground funnelled corridors where the public walked. I was rather boldly chastised by subway security. I remember what one irate officer said, "Listen, you may be having a good time, but others may not. Stop the noise!"
I had to think fast last night as to "What to do?" about this possible chiding revisiting itself. Then, spontaneously, I retained the tune, but instead of the religious mantra, "Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna" being blared out, I jumped to "Happy Happy Happy New Year, Happy Happy Happy New Year / Happy New Year Happy New Year, Happy Happy Happy New Year." It was a compromise. When the doors opened there were 6 or 7 police officers standing near the subway exit ready to deal with any irregularity of activity. Anyway, our swelling group burst out of the subway as doors opened at Queen and with big beaming smiles we passed by the dutiful but formidable line. What could a bunch of officers do with a harmless group of New Year freaks singing "Happy New Year"? We looked composed and were not a threat. We had no booze on our breath. Once we hit the street, well, the flood gates opened with the Maha Mantra resounding, and any form of tension disappeared into oblivion.
For two hours we stood in front of the handsome Old City Hall and let the pulsation of mallets striking the drum and chant hitting hearts take over.
Happy New Year!
8 Km
Wednesday, December 30th, 2009
The Decaying of a Decade
Toronto, Ontario
It is wrap up time. The year comes to a close and also a decade. What did we see and hear? The year 2000, the start of a millennia, pulled off a colossal joke - Y2K. Who will forget? The following year we saw the world in a panic. The twin towers collapsed. Nature pulled punches and struck out in the form of Tsunami in the east. New Orleans also got hit by a major splash. There was global warming and cooling. Polar bears were drowning. The American economy experienced a major downturn which impacted the world. It was interesting over this past decade.
And for me personally two major walks brought me across Canada after completing one in '96. A devotee, Haridas, kindly suggested I try to venture beyond the Great White North, so I tagged on Ireland as a place to trek. Guyana came next, then Fiji's invitation. For at least a dozen good reasons, I now continue on a roll, like a sannyasi, or like a rolling stone (that collects no moss) by moving continually.
Each trip has been special, carrying its own sweetness of adventure, allowing karma to dissolve behind me as I take each step forward. One dear godbrother from Vancouver, Goshthakur, spotted one verse from a Sanskrit text, "Manu Samhita", regarding walking. The gist of it was that sins do deteriorate upon walking long distances. As you advance with your stepping and as you detach yourself from long periods of stay at any one place, karma has a hard time to accumulate. I look to future stretches on the road for the coming decade, if not decades.
5 Km
Toronto, Ontario
It is wrap up time. The year comes to a close and also a decade. What did we see and hear? The year 2000, the start of a millennia, pulled off a colossal joke - Y2K. Who will forget? The following year we saw the world in a panic. The twin towers collapsed. Nature pulled punches and struck out in the form of Tsunami in the east. New Orleans also got hit by a major splash. There was global warming and cooling. Polar bears were drowning. The American economy experienced a major downturn which impacted the world. It was interesting over this past decade.
And for me personally two major walks brought me across Canada after completing one in '96. A devotee, Haridas, kindly suggested I try to venture beyond the Great White North, so I tagged on Ireland as a place to trek. Guyana came next, then Fiji's invitation. For at least a dozen good reasons, I now continue on a roll, like a sannyasi, or like a rolling stone (that collects no moss) by moving continually.
Each trip has been special, carrying its own sweetness of adventure, allowing karma to dissolve behind me as I take each step forward. One dear godbrother from Vancouver, Goshthakur, spotted one verse from a Sanskrit text, "Manu Samhita", regarding walking. The gist of it was that sins do deteriorate upon walking long distances. As you advance with your stepping and as you detach yourself from long periods of stay at any one place, karma has a hard time to accumulate. I look to future stretches on the road for the coming decade, if not decades.
5 Km
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