B L O G S P O T
Wednesday, 17 November 2010
Monday November 15th, 2010
Sweetness from Dawn to Dusk
North York, Ontario
Students at York University seemed to have really enjoyed the chanting. It was their anticipation to hear about the topic “The Yoga of Sound”. I was the guest speaker at the Krishna Club gathering and decided to be less theoretical and less rhetorical. I opted for the practical approach and just let attendees experience chanting for themselves. They required little convincing. Most of them were primed for hearing sound as opposed to talking about it. We stretched the kirtan session to the point of moving the body as well. Most students here already had happy encounters with kirtan and yoga poses. Tonight we combined both. We were bathing in ‘hot honey’.
And speaking of sweetness, I had a real great time with Godbrother Devamrta Swami conversing over a great meal. He had just returned from a retreat at a resort on Georgian Bay. For the first time his local and faithful following had come to experience the early morning monk program.
Henry David Thoreau speaks about the benefits of the morning. “In the morning I bathe my intellect in the stupendous and cosmogonal philosophy of the ‘Bhagavad-gita’”. So morning and evening the sincere seeker of truth will take advantage of the opening and closing to a day and press or squeeze the day’s passion in between with all the spiritual walls of fortification.
As usual my day began early, on foot, while chanting, and while doing so a woman rolled down the window of her vehicle (while it was her night) and said to me, “I love the peach.” That was a sweet remark, no doubt, which made no reference to fruit but rather the colour of the robes. I suppose she makes a spiritual jump for saying this.
6 KM
North York, Ontario
Students at York University seemed to have really enjoyed the chanting. It was their anticipation to hear about the topic “The Yoga of Sound”. I was the guest speaker at the Krishna Club gathering and decided to be less theoretical and less rhetorical. I opted for the practical approach and just let attendees experience chanting for themselves. They required little convincing. Most of them were primed for hearing sound as opposed to talking about it. We stretched the kirtan session to the point of moving the body as well. Most students here already had happy encounters with kirtan and yoga poses. Tonight we combined both. We were bathing in ‘hot honey’.
And speaking of sweetness, I had a real great time with Godbrother Devamrta Swami conversing over a great meal. He had just returned from a retreat at a resort on Georgian Bay. For the first time his local and faithful following had come to experience the early morning monk program.
Henry David Thoreau speaks about the benefits of the morning. “In the morning I bathe my intellect in the stupendous and cosmogonal philosophy of the ‘Bhagavad-gita’”. So morning and evening the sincere seeker of truth will take advantage of the opening and closing to a day and press or squeeze the day’s passion in between with all the spiritual walls of fortification.
As usual my day began early, on foot, while chanting, and while doing so a woman rolled down the window of her vehicle (while it was her night) and said to me, “I love the peach.” That was a sweet remark, no doubt, which made no reference to fruit but rather the colour of the robes. I suppose she makes a spiritual jump for saying this.
6 KM
Saturday, November 13th, 2010
Zero Kilometres
Abudabi/Toronto
Tariq is a Welshman, a young father who has come to see his three year old son living in Canada. Tariq was in the seat next to me on Flight 141, Etihad Airways. He’s a smoker and a drinker (my assumption is he’s moderate in both cases). He boasted about his love for the pub. I felt I couldn’t go too deep with him in spiritual dialogue but I really appreciated his friendship, warmth and easy-going nature. It certainly beats sitting next to a religious zealot who can be cold and hard and ready to release holy venom. It sounds like a paradox but the world is made up of different types.
I’m back home and for two days I had no opportunity to touch real ground. Now after some rest I'll be able to kick some dry leaves lying about into the air and hear them rustle as I tread over grass in the city parks. It’s a distinct difference from the sands graced over in Israel and Juhu.
My monk assistant, Dhruva, helped me with massage on the legs and noticed scars on the right limb. These were a result of a slip in the mud at the Dead Sea. Salt rocks mixed in the mud scraped along the leg leaving scars. It’s not hard to convince anyone that these feet are not lotus-like, especially given that planter’s warts exist, however, slowly they are vanishing. Thanks to liquid nitrogen for the cure and perhaps some credit goes to the cow’s urine application while in Mumbai. I will not cancel out natural remedies as effective cures just like the last time I contacted poison ivy and the best remedy ever was a concoction – an application of mud better known as tilak. That’s sacred mud, if you will. It did the trick.
Now I rest and will wake up and address the infection within. I will chant as offenselessly as possible and try to placate the heart. One day I hope to be strong enough to be able to feel a compassion for the zealots mentioned above in an effort to be helpful.
0 KM
Abudabi/Toronto
Tariq is a Welshman, a young father who has come to see his three year old son living in Canada. Tariq was in the seat next to me on Flight 141, Etihad Airways. He’s a smoker and a drinker (my assumption is he’s moderate in both cases). He boasted about his love for the pub. I felt I couldn’t go too deep with him in spiritual dialogue but I really appreciated his friendship, warmth and easy-going nature. It certainly beats sitting next to a religious zealot who can be cold and hard and ready to release holy venom. It sounds like a paradox but the world is made up of different types.
I’m back home and for two days I had no opportunity to touch real ground. Now after some rest I'll be able to kick some dry leaves lying about into the air and hear them rustle as I tread over grass in the city parks. It’s a distinct difference from the sands graced over in Israel and Juhu.
My monk assistant, Dhruva, helped me with massage on the legs and noticed scars on the right limb. These were a result of a slip in the mud at the Dead Sea. Salt rocks mixed in the mud scraped along the leg leaving scars. It’s not hard to convince anyone that these feet are not lotus-like, especially given that planter’s warts exist, however, slowly they are vanishing. Thanks to liquid nitrogen for the cure and perhaps some credit goes to the cow’s urine application while in Mumbai. I will not cancel out natural remedies as effective cures just like the last time I contacted poison ivy and the best remedy ever was a concoction – an application of mud better known as tilak. That’s sacred mud, if you will. It did the trick.
Now I rest and will wake up and address the infection within. I will chant as offenselessly as possible and try to placate the heart. One day I hope to be strong enough to be able to feel a compassion for the zealots mentioned above in an effort to be helpful.
0 KM
Tuesday, 16 November 2010
Sunday, November 14th, 2010
Sunday Night Ecstasy
Toronto, Ontario
I love it when Keshava Junior of the community picks up the mrdanga drum to back up the chanting vocals I was asked to do. He has a marvellous sense of timing and he understands any signals I send for slowing down, speeding up, softening the tone or picking up the volume or just changing the beat. It is a good synergy and I'm indebted to him when he gives that support as he had done at the evening's final kirtan chanting session at the Sunday Krishna Open House.
There was a visiting brahmacari (monk) by the name of Kavi who hails from the U.K. that jumped into the kirtan. He began to dance explosively. Then Sanjay from Waterloo, Ontario, joined in to do a hot foot step. Dhruva from Halifax also caught on fire and partook in the display of madman fun. Truly, arms and legs went everywhere as more and more ecstatic bodies entered the pool of dance. It was like a scene from Chaitanya's time, as I would imagine, when no one cares about formality but lets loose any regimen. Naturally it was mostly young folks going berserk, men and women. No one wanted it to end. Volumes of sweat determined its termination and the cleaning volunteers push their brooms and mops by the dancers feet giving clear indications of the inevitable.
Earlier on in the day I had complimented Rajasuya at our Brampton centre how he aroused the group there with his kirtan leading.
For the love of God and love of kirtan those who have these experiential times keep up these repeat events and return regularly for more. If only the world knew what a spiritual culture brings forth and has to offer. This is what Chaitanya had come to give.
When walking this early morning on Bloor St. I couldn't make out who was greeting me from across the street because of the darkness and distance. The guy raised his arm and shouted,
"Hey Monk, how's it doin'?"
To this I responded, "Just fine!" And that’s the way it is especially in a rousing, ego-bashing, let your hair hang down kirtan. It's all so fine.
10 KM
Toronto, Ontario
I love it when Keshava Junior of the community picks up the mrdanga drum to back up the chanting vocals I was asked to do. He has a marvellous sense of timing and he understands any signals I send for slowing down, speeding up, softening the tone or picking up the volume or just changing the beat. It is a good synergy and I'm indebted to him when he gives that support as he had done at the evening's final kirtan chanting session at the Sunday Krishna Open House.
There was a visiting brahmacari (monk) by the name of Kavi who hails from the U.K. that jumped into the kirtan. He began to dance explosively. Then Sanjay from Waterloo, Ontario, joined in to do a hot foot step. Dhruva from Halifax also caught on fire and partook in the display of madman fun. Truly, arms and legs went everywhere as more and more ecstatic bodies entered the pool of dance. It was like a scene from Chaitanya's time, as I would imagine, when no one cares about formality but lets loose any regimen. Naturally it was mostly young folks going berserk, men and women. No one wanted it to end. Volumes of sweat determined its termination and the cleaning volunteers push their brooms and mops by the dancers feet giving clear indications of the inevitable.
Earlier on in the day I had complimented Rajasuya at our Brampton centre how he aroused the group there with his kirtan leading.
For the love of God and love of kirtan those who have these experiential times keep up these repeat events and return regularly for more. If only the world knew what a spiritual culture brings forth and has to offer. This is what Chaitanya had come to give.
When walking this early morning on Bloor St. I couldn't make out who was greeting me from across the street because of the darkness and distance. The guy raised his arm and shouted,
"Hey Monk, how's it doin'?"
To this I responded, "Just fine!" And that’s the way it is especially in a rousing, ego-bashing, let your hair hang down kirtan. It's all so fine.
10 KM
Sunday, 14 November 2010
Friday, November 12th, 2010
Bye to Israel!
Mumbai, India
It's hard to leave a place because of the relationships built up over the time of a visit. As usual my hosts were terrific. Israel has been no exception in that regard. Each night here the community came together. We lit deeyas (ghee wicks) to honor God as a baby. It is a set custom during the month of Damodara to do so. I was asked to say some words. Mantras were chanted. Each early morning the Mediterranean shore-line was explored for the first time, I assume, with people chanting mantras. About 80 Kilometers of it was covered.
It's not over. That was confirmed by the voices and hearts of the devotee community there. "You have to come back- soon!"
"Yes, I'll have to finish walking the rest of the country."
You know I got attracted to those waves, the current of Krishna and the breeze- His breath. I especially developed an affinity for my companions even though sometimes the talking amongst each other was often in Hebrew or Russian. Those times were windows to open for thoughts outside of Israel, for my home and areas that I frequent and the people within those domains.
The sun was soon to sink to the welcome of directions west when I arrived at Mumbai. Crammed and crawling cars played a part in the transporting of people to locations of Chat-puja, a festival that Mumbai is rather passionate about.
ISKCON Juhu, my stop over place for the night had a new welcoming of friends. They found a spot in the temple program for me to lead the chant before the deities of Radha and Krishna. It was awesome seeing the participation from all. Those smiling faces were my last vision before retiring for the night. It was like, to put it more in a middle-eastern context, reaching out for the olive branch.
0 KM
Mumbai, India
It's hard to leave a place because of the relationships built up over the time of a visit. As usual my hosts were terrific. Israel has been no exception in that regard. Each night here the community came together. We lit deeyas (ghee wicks) to honor God as a baby. It is a set custom during the month of Damodara to do so. I was asked to say some words. Mantras were chanted. Each early morning the Mediterranean shore-line was explored for the first time, I assume, with people chanting mantras. About 80 Kilometers of it was covered.
It's not over. That was confirmed by the voices and hearts of the devotee community there. "You have to come back- soon!"
"Yes, I'll have to finish walking the rest of the country."
You know I got attracted to those waves, the current of Krishna and the breeze- His breath. I especially developed an affinity for my companions even though sometimes the talking amongst each other was often in Hebrew or Russian. Those times were windows to open for thoughts outside of Israel, for my home and areas that I frequent and the people within those domains.
The sun was soon to sink to the welcome of directions west when I arrived at Mumbai. Crammed and crawling cars played a part in the transporting of people to locations of Chat-puja, a festival that Mumbai is rather passionate about.
ISKCON Juhu, my stop over place for the night had a new welcoming of friends. They found a spot in the temple program for me to lead the chant before the deities of Radha and Krishna. It was awesome seeing the participation from all. Those smiling faces were my last vision before retiring for the night. It was like, to put it more in a middle-eastern context, reaching out for the olive branch.
0 KM
Friday, 12 November 2010
Thursday, 11 November 2010
Wednesday, November 10th, 2010
Jesus was wet here
Jordan River, Israel
From Natanya city situated on the Mediterranean sea we trudged along, always choosing the hardest packed sand next to the water. Our team of four chanted on beads, meditating on the sound and then sang to the standard bhajans sung in temples around the world.
There were intermittent quiet areas where we could manage this in loud tones. The trail which is cross country path, is marked with orange, blue and white stripes on rocks, trees, and just about anything. This trail diverts away from the coast at places and therefore creates some confusion. Ekavirya eventually called our path "the paramatma trail", because in all reality we just moved with our gut feeling. Paramatma by the way, refers to God-in-the-heart, who gives direction within. That seems to work for us.
We met a friendly horticulturalist who guided us around areas that were tricky such as the big power-plant at the Nahal Park. This guy, a retiree, was such a hospitable type. He knew who we were, of-course my robes are the give-away. "You are Hare Krishna?"
In most places judging by the faces, the saffron robes are a novelty, if not an alien sight. After a glorious 20 KMs on foot we drove to the Jordan River, the place of Jesus' Baptism at Yardenit. Our group chose to bathe in his holy waters, just a few meters away for our own privacy. Indeed, the water is sacred, cool and clean, and shaded by varieties of trees, including the medicinal eucalyptus. School girls in uniforms canoed the channel here and adolescent males appeared to camp at our bathing area.
There is lots of life in this area and there are date and orange groves nearby. And while our men were munching on snacks after the swim an amiable groundhog ate fearlessly next to us. In fact it was Roman, our youngest trooper, who mentioned that chanting helps the animals. So the Shabda Brahman (spiritual sound) impacts even those creatures that make no effort toward spiritual practices, the sound has such power.
As Jesus said in delivering the Lord's Prayer "Our Father - who art in heaven, hollowed by the name..." The name is powerful!
20 KMs
Jordan River, Israel
From Natanya city situated on the Mediterranean sea we trudged along, always choosing the hardest packed sand next to the water. Our team of four chanted on beads, meditating on the sound and then sang to the standard bhajans sung in temples around the world.
There were intermittent quiet areas where we could manage this in loud tones. The trail which is cross country path, is marked with orange, blue and white stripes on rocks, trees, and just about anything. This trail diverts away from the coast at places and therefore creates some confusion. Ekavirya eventually called our path "the paramatma trail", because in all reality we just moved with our gut feeling. Paramatma by the way, refers to God-in-the-heart, who gives direction within. That seems to work for us.
We met a friendly horticulturalist who guided us around areas that were tricky such as the big power-plant at the Nahal Park. This guy, a retiree, was such a hospitable type. He knew who we were, of-course my robes are the give-away. "You are Hare Krishna?"
In most places judging by the faces, the saffron robes are a novelty, if not an alien sight. After a glorious 20 KMs on foot we drove to the Jordan River, the place of Jesus' Baptism at Yardenit. Our group chose to bathe in his holy waters, just a few meters away for our own privacy. Indeed, the water is sacred, cool and clean, and shaded by varieties of trees, including the medicinal eucalyptus. School girls in uniforms canoed the channel here and adolescent males appeared to camp at our bathing area.
There is lots of life in this area and there are date and orange groves nearby. And while our men were munching on snacks after the swim an amiable groundhog ate fearlessly next to us. In fact it was Roman, our youngest trooper, who mentioned that chanting helps the animals. So the Shabda Brahman (spiritual sound) impacts even those creatures that make no effort toward spiritual practices, the sound has such power.
As Jesus said in delivering the Lord's Prayer "Our Father - who art in heaven, hollowed by the name..." The name is powerful!
20 KMs
Tuesday, November 9th, 2010
Dead and alive.
Natanya, Israel
At 5 am right on the button, today`s set of troupers, Ekavirya, Vrikodar, Roman and myself set out at a beginning point of the journey on foot. It was a 24 hours convenient store just off of highway 2 near Rishpon, that was the finishing point from the previous day. We all had taken to resting late the night before, as the evening called for sat-sang (spiritual gathering). Yet that did not give cause to dampen any spirits for the early rise, shower, and then the drive to our starting point.
Our first hour was total confusion, a meandering through the curved streets of Kibbutz settlement. As the sun's lightness began to pervade we trekked along narrow trails atop cliffs, and then eventually made our way descending to the beach heading north to the city of Netanya. We met fishermen and runners and youth being primed for the army training. According to my companions the cleaning up of beach trash was a part of their training.
To the exclusion of this humble servant the troupers of today admitted to being out of shape and that our mere 18 KMs was a little hard pressed. No real complains thought. The reward for all the leg labor and a treat for me, the guest to Israel, was a dip in to the Dead Sea. After a good hour and a half on wheels, we arrived at a resort where Russians, Americans, Europeans, Asians and other tourists came for the therapeutic bath in this world famous mineral-dense body of water. Fish don't live in it, but humans flock to it for the buoyancy fun. And after time spent floating (careful to not submerge the head, the salts are intolerable for eyes and mouth) we did as every one else did - smudged the body with mud before a final rinse of real water.
The day`s experience with the elements was not a complete day until the heart could speak out about gratitude to our Guru, Srila Prabhupada. On this 33th anniversary of his passing we expressed what we could about the person who was clearly the cutting edge of a change in world consciousness. Due to his coming to the west, we now have all this marvelous people who have taken to ahimsa (non-violence), vegetarianism, karmic cognition and something else profound called prema (unconditional love for the Supreme).
People have come alive. Our indebtedness to him knows no bounds.
18 KM
Natanya, Israel
At 5 am right on the button, today`s set of troupers, Ekavirya, Vrikodar, Roman and myself set out at a beginning point of the journey on foot. It was a 24 hours convenient store just off of highway 2 near Rishpon, that was the finishing point from the previous day. We all had taken to resting late the night before, as the evening called for sat-sang (spiritual gathering). Yet that did not give cause to dampen any spirits for the early rise, shower, and then the drive to our starting point.
Our first hour was total confusion, a meandering through the curved streets of Kibbutz settlement. As the sun's lightness began to pervade we trekked along narrow trails atop cliffs, and then eventually made our way descending to the beach heading north to the city of Netanya. We met fishermen and runners and youth being primed for the army training. According to my companions the cleaning up of beach trash was a part of their training.
To the exclusion of this humble servant the troupers of today admitted to being out of shape and that our mere 18 KMs was a little hard pressed. No real complains thought. The reward for all the leg labor and a treat for me, the guest to Israel, was a dip in to the Dead Sea. After a good hour and a half on wheels, we arrived at a resort where Russians, Americans, Europeans, Asians and other tourists came for the therapeutic bath in this world famous mineral-dense body of water. Fish don't live in it, but humans flock to it for the buoyancy fun. And after time spent floating (careful to not submerge the head, the salts are intolerable for eyes and mouth) we did as every one else did - smudged the body with mud before a final rinse of real water.
The day`s experience with the elements was not a complete day until the heart could speak out about gratitude to our Guru, Srila Prabhupada. On this 33th anniversary of his passing we expressed what we could about the person who was clearly the cutting edge of a change in world consciousness. Due to his coming to the west, we now have all this marvelous people who have taken to ahimsa (non-violence), vegetarianism, karmic cognition and something else profound called prema (unconditional love for the Supreme).
People have come alive. Our indebtedness to him knows no bounds.
18 KM
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