Being Together
Toronto, Ontario
A group of us monks processioned our way to the Multi faith Centre at the University of Toronto for a unique convergence of groups. All groups are asked to bring their song and so we practically did that. Lyrics with translations were to be emailed ahead of time. This our group did. We forwarded the great mantra called the maha mantra which goes as follows:
Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna,
Krishna Krishna, Hare Hare,
Hare Rama, Hare Rama,
Rama Rama, Hare Hare
Our translation:
“O beautiful Creator, please allow us to joyfully engage in service to You.”
At 7 pm all groups mingled, brake ice and got to know each other. Then Matt, the facilitator introduced the Jewish group who sang “Hine Ma Tou”. And we all did so with them. We stood up and swayed with them arm in arm.
Next the Bahai group sang “Here Am I” with a harmony of soprano, baritone and alto. Each person there took their chairs to sing out with one of the three inclinations. We stood and sang in full participation.
Next we sat to the tune of “Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam” with Prof. Narale a Hindi bhajan that he wrote. Finally Matt invited our ISKCON group to sing the maha-mantra. This three word combination of sacred names was executed with ease by all. All there sang, clapped, stood up to dance and to form a modest version of a Congo-line while chanting.
The Bahais sang one more up-beat gospel piece and that then finalized the program. It was great for establishing a potent camaraderie. Our group of monks were on fire to continue singing our song. We did so for a return journey back to the ashram.
7 Km
B L O G S P O T
Monday, 18 July 2011
Friday, 15 July 2011
Wednesday, July 13th, 2011
That’s (mundane) Life
Toronto, Ontario
I turned a corner at Roxborough and Yonge where just outside of a coffee shop, “Second Cup” two dogs were mating. The dog’s owner (or owners) must have been sipping away inside allowing nature to take its own course outside.
Further south a man glimpsed at my robes. He was about sixtyish, introduced himself, and told me he goes to Puskara, India, every year. I didn’t bother to ask whether it was for a spiritual venture or for beach fun and beach dope. I merely jumped to my conclusion; that his intent was less spiritual otherwise he would have prolonged the conversation. Oh well! He’s on his own track. Maybe, next he’ll plunge into the spiritual side of life. At least he was nice.
I ended up on Queen St. pass Old City Hall which architecturally puts New City Hall to shame. Pedestrian traffic is everywhere, uncongested, evenly-spread but moving. 25% of walkers are on I-pods. Maybe 5% are munching or seriously devouring. Two people have an argument. A street person is in slumber. Everyone has his or her own intent/purpose.
I guess I’m seeing it all -- eating, sleeping, mating and defending. In Sanskrit the terms are ahara (eating), nidra (sleeping), bhaya(defending), and maithuni(mating). All of this seen over the course of 75 minutes on a rectangular route on a Toronto grid from Yonge to Queen, to Spadina and Dupont back to the ashram. This is all a visualization of what I read about. It is like the pages of the books we read. The graphic and yet ordinary goings-on of secular living becomes manifest at every step you take. Whether dog or man, such is life as it goes on in the mundane sense.
7 Km
Toronto, Ontario
I turned a corner at Roxborough and Yonge where just outside of a coffee shop, “Second Cup” two dogs were mating. The dog’s owner (or owners) must have been sipping away inside allowing nature to take its own course outside.
Further south a man glimpsed at my robes. He was about sixtyish, introduced himself, and told me he goes to Puskara, India, every year. I didn’t bother to ask whether it was for a spiritual venture or for beach fun and beach dope. I merely jumped to my conclusion; that his intent was less spiritual otherwise he would have prolonged the conversation. Oh well! He’s on his own track. Maybe, next he’ll plunge into the spiritual side of life. At least he was nice.
I ended up on Queen St. pass Old City Hall which architecturally puts New City Hall to shame. Pedestrian traffic is everywhere, uncongested, evenly-spread but moving. 25% of walkers are on I-pods. Maybe 5% are munching or seriously devouring. Two people have an argument. A street person is in slumber. Everyone has his or her own intent/purpose.
I guess I’m seeing it all -- eating, sleeping, mating and defending. In Sanskrit the terms are ahara (eating), nidra (sleeping), bhaya(defending), and maithuni(mating). All of this seen over the course of 75 minutes on a rectangular route on a Toronto grid from Yonge to Queen, to Spadina and Dupont back to the ashram. This is all a visualization of what I read about. It is like the pages of the books we read. The graphic and yet ordinary goings-on of secular living becomes manifest at every step you take. Whether dog or man, such is life as it goes on in the mundane sense.
7 Km
Tuesday, July 12th, 2011
Looking Fragile
Toronto, Ontario
Things are looking fragile in the world economic scene. The country of Italy is on the latest list of financial challenges in Europe. Ireland, Greece and Portugal are part of the unfortunate stack of debt contagion and now, one of the strangest economies of Euro land, to a great surprise, is the land of vineyards.
This recent surprise about domino woes is cause for much concern and anguish. Some thoughts and questions come to my mind. Is there a co-relation between the decline of spirituality to lack of funds? Does greed and karma play a role in this? Naturally, being some kind of spiritualist I may be incline to think so.
China is now a powerhouse with India taking a second place. This is a shift in power dynamics from west to east -- from America and Europe to the east. If money is power then as we can see, a remolding is taking place on the basis of the movement of “Lakshmi”. Lakshmi is the Sanskrit word to describe wealth. This primary goddess has a reputation for being flickering and changing locations.
This is the way of the world and its history so it seems. It gives cause to re-think certain values and certain ways of doing things. It’s an interesting time, now and always. Nothing is permanent.
And because I think like a spiritualist I’m inclined towards a pat answer or a solution to the problem. There’s a need to step up on tightening our belts, re-visit simple ways and say “Hello” to god again. History tells of those trends of what was just described.
As I contemplated on the matter on my evening stretch of legs I saw a billboard promoting “Pizza Pizza”, an Italian Canadian based business. The image is of a young couple indulging in a succulent slice of pizza. They look happy, of course. No doubt the message carries a kernel of deception. Happiness is permanent with the spirit and not necessarily with financial arrangements.
8 Km
Toronto, Ontario
Things are looking fragile in the world economic scene. The country of Italy is on the latest list of financial challenges in Europe. Ireland, Greece and Portugal are part of the unfortunate stack of debt contagion and now, one of the strangest economies of Euro land, to a great surprise, is the land of vineyards.
This recent surprise about domino woes is cause for much concern and anguish. Some thoughts and questions come to my mind. Is there a co-relation between the decline of spirituality to lack of funds? Does greed and karma play a role in this? Naturally, being some kind of spiritualist I may be incline to think so.
China is now a powerhouse with India taking a second place. This is a shift in power dynamics from west to east -- from America and Europe to the east. If money is power then as we can see, a remolding is taking place on the basis of the movement of “Lakshmi”. Lakshmi is the Sanskrit word to describe wealth. This primary goddess has a reputation for being flickering and changing locations.
This is the way of the world and its history so it seems. It gives cause to re-think certain values and certain ways of doing things. It’s an interesting time, now and always. Nothing is permanent.
And because I think like a spiritualist I’m inclined towards a pat answer or a solution to the problem. There’s a need to step up on tightening our belts, re-visit simple ways and say “Hello” to god again. History tells of those trends of what was just described.
As I contemplated on the matter on my evening stretch of legs I saw a billboard promoting “Pizza Pizza”, an Italian Canadian based business. The image is of a young couple indulging in a succulent slice of pizza. They look happy, of course. No doubt the message carries a kernel of deception. Happiness is permanent with the spirit and not necessarily with financial arrangements.
8 Km
Wednesday, 13 July 2011
Monday, July 11th, 2011
Pulling from a Branch
Toronto, Ontario
In India people brag about mango season or papaya season. But here, right here in North America and at this time of year, we can relish and take pride in such bountiful fruit bearing trees such as mulberries and a smaller bush, the saskatoon. I never realized until today how many you can find in the city.
Few people take advantage. After all, most of these juicy edibles are on someone's property, however, I interpret the overhanging branches that canopy the sidewalk as a gesture of kindness - charity for a monk perhaps. I don't hesitate to pluck a few berries at the expense of staining the palms. Yes, indeed, I will make a full stop from walking in order to energize myself. Of course, I'll make sure the proprietor is not sitting on the front porch, watching. Does anyone do that anymore?
I figure that here, God is giving, and I can't pass up the generous offer. There's another rationale that I put behind the picking. In my teens I spent my summer in orchards. It was an 8 hour a day ordeal of being on a ladder going after cherries, plums, peaches, pears and apples. My siblings and I were reaching new heights with our summer jobs. Those were great days. The transistor radio was set in the trunk of the tree where limbs branch out and we would tantalize our ears with Stevie Wonder singing "My Cherie Amour."
We would also benefit from the nutrients the fruits had to offer. So it was the reaching, the climbing, the stretching, the sunshine and the eating that was all just so good for us. To the cave-dwelling texting generation, I don't envy you one bit. You don't know what you're missing.
But there was one more important component to my cherry picking days that's very clear to me - somehow I had the firm belief in the presence of someone always watching me with great care.
Ahhh! That reminiscence is precious.
4 Km
Toronto, Ontario
In India people brag about mango season or papaya season. But here, right here in North America and at this time of year, we can relish and take pride in such bountiful fruit bearing trees such as mulberries and a smaller bush, the saskatoon. I never realized until today how many you can find in the city.
Few people take advantage. After all, most of these juicy edibles are on someone's property, however, I interpret the overhanging branches that canopy the sidewalk as a gesture of kindness - charity for a monk perhaps. I don't hesitate to pluck a few berries at the expense of staining the palms. Yes, indeed, I will make a full stop from walking in order to energize myself. Of course, I'll make sure the proprietor is not sitting on the front porch, watching. Does anyone do that anymore?
I figure that here, God is giving, and I can't pass up the generous offer. There's another rationale that I put behind the picking. In my teens I spent my summer in orchards. It was an 8 hour a day ordeal of being on a ladder going after cherries, plums, peaches, pears and apples. My siblings and I were reaching new heights with our summer jobs. Those were great days. The transistor radio was set in the trunk of the tree where limbs branch out and we would tantalize our ears with Stevie Wonder singing "My Cherie Amour."
We would also benefit from the nutrients the fruits had to offer. So it was the reaching, the climbing, the stretching, the sunshine and the eating that was all just so good for us. To the cave-dwelling texting generation, I don't envy you one bit. You don't know what you're missing.
But there was one more important component to my cherry picking days that's very clear to me - somehow I had the firm belief in the presence of someone always watching me with great care.
Ahhh! That reminiscence is precious.
4 Km
Sunday, July 10th, 2011
Take Care of Yourself
Quebec, Ontario
He was hungry. His nose was to the ground. He lives under a trailor, so we were told by the manager of the local confectionery. He is beautiful, noted our return party from Montreal. He roams the wooded area nearby, preying (not 'praying' with an 'a') in order to sustain himself. He seems to do that, look after himself.
He's also furry and red and has this glamourous bushy tail at his behind. He's a fox and although foxes may tend toward shyness this guy could almost be our domestic friend.
Our traveling party stopped in the hamlet of Grafton for a refuel when we spotted him. His whole body, designed to be quiet, light on the feet and fast - left an impression as he scoured the parking lot moving this way and that. Looking for morsels or almost anything, animated or inanimate, was his mandate.
On the theme of looking out for yourself, I couldn't help reiterating this point to a dear friend from Montreal, a friend whom I was compelled to visit in the Old Vic Hospital. He received a heart attack at 3 AM, the result of too much exertion over the busy weekend.
Gokulananda, a fine French Canadian devotee, is in his early sixties. Almost four decades before he was like a mentor to me when I first became a monk in Toronto. I looked down at my bed-ridden friend and implored him to look after himself. It was not an uncommon mantra that I delivered to him, being in the circumstance that he was.
"Slow down! Watch what you eat! Avoid the cholesterol stuff! Look after yourself! Slow down! Please!"
We discussed that the body is its own guru. It tells what you can take and not take. Then, Gokul reminded me of the incident of our guru, Srila Prabhupada who suffered from his physical setback. The doctor told Prabhupada's disciples, "He prays too much."
It was not what they wanted to hear from the doctor. In fact, they thought the remark was rude, insensitive.
As Gokul was retelling the story, he spoke as if he was Prabhupada himself, "No," he corrected the devotees, "the doctor is right." From then on our guru went on his daily walks.
11 Km
Quebec, Ontario
He was hungry. His nose was to the ground. He lives under a trailor, so we were told by the manager of the local confectionery. He is beautiful, noted our return party from Montreal. He roams the wooded area nearby, preying (not 'praying' with an 'a') in order to sustain himself. He seems to do that, look after himself.
He's also furry and red and has this glamourous bushy tail at his behind. He's a fox and although foxes may tend toward shyness this guy could almost be our domestic friend.
Our traveling party stopped in the hamlet of Grafton for a refuel when we spotted him. His whole body, designed to be quiet, light on the feet and fast - left an impression as he scoured the parking lot moving this way and that. Looking for morsels or almost anything, animated or inanimate, was his mandate.
On the theme of looking out for yourself, I couldn't help reiterating this point to a dear friend from Montreal, a friend whom I was compelled to visit in the Old Vic Hospital. He received a heart attack at 3 AM, the result of too much exertion over the busy weekend.
Gokulananda, a fine French Canadian devotee, is in his early sixties. Almost four decades before he was like a mentor to me when I first became a monk in Toronto. I looked down at my bed-ridden friend and implored him to look after himself. It was not an uncommon mantra that I delivered to him, being in the circumstance that he was.
"Slow down! Watch what you eat! Avoid the cholesterol stuff! Look after yourself! Slow down! Please!"
We discussed that the body is its own guru. It tells what you can take and not take. Then, Gokul reminded me of the incident of our guru, Srila Prabhupada who suffered from his physical setback. The doctor told Prabhupada's disciples, "He prays too much."
It was not what they wanted to hear from the doctor. In fact, they thought the remark was rude, insensitive.
As Gokul was retelling the story, he spoke as if he was Prabhupada himself, "No," he corrected the devotees, "the doctor is right." From then on our guru went on his daily walks.
11 Km
Monday, 11 July 2011
Saturday, July 9th, 2011
Beauty in the City Beast
Montreal, Quebec
"Tears came forcefully from the eyes of the Lord, as if from a syringe, and all the people surrounding Him became wet."
-From the text Chaitanya Caritamrta Madhya-Lila 13.105
The Lord being referred to in this quote is Chaitanya who cried out of emotion for Jagannath (Krishna) during the Ratha Yatra (Festival of Chariots). He had been dancing and chanting before the chariot of Jagannath in the midst of everyone devotional.
A re-enactment of dancing and singing to the beat of drums, kettle drums, and symbols happened today on St. Laurent in Montreal on a perfect weather day. Tears were held back perhaps for many of us novices in spiritual life; they may have been even contained, not invoked for reasons that we are not sensitized to the state experienced by Chaitanya.
Joy was felt though. I witnessed happy participants, myself being one of them. A good strong chanting persisted under a baking sun as the chariot (resembling a temple) rolled down the street. The stage events at Jean-Mance park were entertaining. Acts moved on and off with a smooth professional roll like the easy turning wheels of the chariot.
Delicious prasadam was served (Indian food without chillies, a rarity). And there were tons of happy faces reflecting Jagannath's own facial demeanour.
As usual after hours of mingling (and entertaining) I stubbornly avoided ride offers back to the ashram for rest. A new exploration route for me was Rachelle St. People are going back to biking in defiance of expensive auto arrangements. Good for them.
Even Jagannath's chariot, come to think of it, is a non-engine-operated conveyance. It is pulled by love when devotees grip the two taut ropes that move the chariot forward.
If we keep up the smooth handling of the festival for Him, Jagannath, the Lord of the Universe, then with such a level of perfectional devotion, tears may eventually flow, like a waterfall, or syringe (as mentioned). It only requires a building of the intensity.
11 Km
Montreal, Quebec
"Tears came forcefully from the eyes of the Lord, as if from a syringe, and all the people surrounding Him became wet."
-From the text Chaitanya Caritamrta Madhya-Lila 13.105
The Lord being referred to in this quote is Chaitanya who cried out of emotion for Jagannath (Krishna) during the Ratha Yatra (Festival of Chariots). He had been dancing and chanting before the chariot of Jagannath in the midst of everyone devotional.
A re-enactment of dancing and singing to the beat of drums, kettle drums, and symbols happened today on St. Laurent in Montreal on a perfect weather day. Tears were held back perhaps for many of us novices in spiritual life; they may have been even contained, not invoked for reasons that we are not sensitized to the state experienced by Chaitanya.
Joy was felt though. I witnessed happy participants, myself being one of them. A good strong chanting persisted under a baking sun as the chariot (resembling a temple) rolled down the street. The stage events at Jean-Mance park were entertaining. Acts moved on and off with a smooth professional roll like the easy turning wheels of the chariot.
Delicious prasadam was served (Indian food without chillies, a rarity). And there were tons of happy faces reflecting Jagannath's own facial demeanour.
As usual after hours of mingling (and entertaining) I stubbornly avoided ride offers back to the ashram for rest. A new exploration route for me was Rachelle St. People are going back to biking in defiance of expensive auto arrangements. Good for them.
Even Jagannath's chariot, come to think of it, is a non-engine-operated conveyance. It is pulled by love when devotees grip the two taut ropes that move the chariot forward.
If we keep up the smooth handling of the festival for Him, Jagannath, the Lord of the Universe, then with such a level of perfectional devotion, tears may eventually flow, like a waterfall, or syringe (as mentioned). It only requires a building of the intensity.
11 Km
Sunday, 10 July 2011
Friday, July 8th, 2011
Bobby’s Getting Married
Toronto, Ontario
A couple of black dudes let me catch up to them along the side walk.
“So what do you believe in?” asked one of them.
“We believe in Krishna.”
“Christian?”
“No!” Krishna! Krishna is our authority He is dark. In fact he’s black! One definition of Krishna is ‘black’.”
This remark did not phase the two guys but they listened further.
“We are in this world to learn and to correct wrongs. If we have more work to do with correction then we are given another birth -- we are born again and yet again until we get it right.”
“What is your stance on drinking, smoking and drugs?” asked the second dude.
“We have a large membership and there are varying degrees of commitment from these members. I’m a priest in the community so I avoid these habits in order to keep clean, safe, spare my guts, protect my brain cells, and to have a heart.
It was time to part. We wished each other well.
More well-wishing. Bobby’s getting married. I knew the kid since he was 5. That was 25 years ago. Everybody likes Bobby. He’s totally amiable. I went to a pre-amble event to his wedding. I was given the floor to speak. At that point I offered blessings and also some words.
“Thanks, Bobby, for being so level-headed, cool, calm and collected. I wish you well in your new life with your partner. Keep anchored! Keep Krishna!”
17 Km
Toronto, Ontario
A couple of black dudes let me catch up to them along the side walk.
“So what do you believe in?” asked one of them.
“We believe in Krishna.”
“Christian?”
“No!” Krishna! Krishna is our authority He is dark. In fact he’s black! One definition of Krishna is ‘black’.”
This remark did not phase the two guys but they listened further.
“We are in this world to learn and to correct wrongs. If we have more work to do with correction then we are given another birth -- we are born again and yet again until we get it right.”
“What is your stance on drinking, smoking and drugs?” asked the second dude.
“We have a large membership and there are varying degrees of commitment from these members. I’m a priest in the community so I avoid these habits in order to keep clean, safe, spare my guts, protect my brain cells, and to have a heart.
It was time to part. We wished each other well.
More well-wishing. Bobby’s getting married. I knew the kid since he was 5. That was 25 years ago. Everybody likes Bobby. He’s totally amiable. I went to a pre-amble event to his wedding. I was given the floor to speak. At that point I offered blessings and also some words.
“Thanks, Bobby, for being so level-headed, cool, calm and collected. I wish you well in your new life with your partner. Keep anchored! Keep Krishna!”
17 Km
Thursday, July 7th, 2011
Mutual Benefit
Toronto, Ontario
Yesterday I took a stroll to a park, a pleasant green space off of Bathurst St. with three beautiful women. Those motorists who watched us cross the street may have wondered what kind of monk is that keeping company with les femmes?
“Let them wonder,” I thought, “these are my sisters and niece. Today I went out with the boys. At downtown Yonge and Bloor I beat the drum, literally, an art of a sankirtan session. A dear god brother, Krsna das, Laghu Hari, our visiting South African monk, and I were chanting. For some time Krsna das handed out flyers to promote the coming Ratha Yatra for July 16th and 17th while Laghu and I sat down on a public concrete slab, an actual seat. It was so designed that you could interpret that one half jutting out north and the other south, implies that the seat for two positions goes in each direction.
We took advantage of this. Laghu faced the moving pedestrians. I faced the traffic with my mrdanga drum. It was interesting to see the response by motorists especially when having to stop for the traffic light.
It was a hot day so most people have their windows closed with the AC on. I would say half of the stationary vehicles stopped for the red light would at least slightly roll down their window to listen to the beat of the drum and the mantra being sung. Some people would look towards us and smile. Some would nod. Some would tap their fingers on the steering wheel.
And while they were getting a kick out of hearing us (and I seeing them) we were both reaping the benefit of appreciating the mantra. That was to our mutual benefit.
6 Km
Toronto, Ontario
Yesterday I took a stroll to a park, a pleasant green space off of Bathurst St. with three beautiful women. Those motorists who watched us cross the street may have wondered what kind of monk is that keeping company with les femmes?
“Let them wonder,” I thought, “these are my sisters and niece. Today I went out with the boys. At downtown Yonge and Bloor I beat the drum, literally, an art of a sankirtan session. A dear god brother, Krsna das, Laghu Hari, our visiting South African monk, and I were chanting. For some time Krsna das handed out flyers to promote the coming Ratha Yatra for July 16th and 17th while Laghu and I sat down on a public concrete slab, an actual seat. It was so designed that you could interpret that one half jutting out north and the other south, implies that the seat for two positions goes in each direction.
We took advantage of this. Laghu faced the moving pedestrians. I faced the traffic with my mrdanga drum. It was interesting to see the response by motorists especially when having to stop for the traffic light.
It was a hot day so most people have their windows closed with the AC on. I would say half of the stationary vehicles stopped for the red light would at least slightly roll down their window to listen to the beat of the drum and the mantra being sung. Some people would look towards us and smile. Some would nod. Some would tap their fingers on the steering wheel.
And while they were getting a kick out of hearing us (and I seeing them) we were both reaping the benefit of appreciating the mantra. That was to our mutual benefit.
6 Km
Wednesday, July 6th, 2011
Some Saints
North Your, Ontario
Most celebrated in the Gaudiya tradition is a person by the name of Vakresvara Pandit, a contemporary of Chaitanya. Vakresvara may not have been professional at the art but skilled he was in devotion. He managed to stretch his dance of love for God for a lengthy 72 hours. Dancing is a big part of expression in our tradition. Our guru, Srila Prabhupada, also acknowledged that the Sufi tradition, where dance is important, is highly devotional and poetical. Many spiritualists of diverse traditions honour the art of dancing in abandonment.
Last week we had honoured another saint, Bhaktivinode Thakura, known less for dance but more for song. He wrote scores of bhajans (devotional hymns) in honour of Krishna. His songs such as “Radha Madhava” and “Gaura Arati” are popular the world-over in devotional circles. He also was a great teacher of Vaishnav philosophy. He once spoke about the green bird entering the green tree, an apparently common sight in India. The point he made was when a green bird enters a green tree the bird does not merge in oneness. The bird retains his individuality. This example is given to illustrate that the soul does not lose his/her distinctiveness when entering the spirit world.
I was pleasantly reminded of this when seeing a red cardinal bird fly into a red rose bush, during AM walking. A second cardinal in flight came to land and join the first to conceal themselves in the flowers.
Today thoughts took my attention to my siblings and a niece in North York. I went to visit them out of love and obligation. They are also saints; not dancers, writers or teachers of philosophy. But I can proudly say that as far as duty and loyalty to family and community they score high in these areas. In that regard I consider them saints. I’m speaking of Connie, Pauline and Tarelyn. They are definitely my worth dropping in on from time to time. Perhaps one day I will see them become vegetarian.
In any event saints can be defined in many ways. There are different gradations of them and there are many of them.
6 KM
North Your, Ontario
Most celebrated in the Gaudiya tradition is a person by the name of Vakresvara Pandit, a contemporary of Chaitanya. Vakresvara may not have been professional at the art but skilled he was in devotion. He managed to stretch his dance of love for God for a lengthy 72 hours. Dancing is a big part of expression in our tradition. Our guru, Srila Prabhupada, also acknowledged that the Sufi tradition, where dance is important, is highly devotional and poetical. Many spiritualists of diverse traditions honour the art of dancing in abandonment.
Last week we had honoured another saint, Bhaktivinode Thakura, known less for dance but more for song. He wrote scores of bhajans (devotional hymns) in honour of Krishna. His songs such as “Radha Madhava” and “Gaura Arati” are popular the world-over in devotional circles. He also was a great teacher of Vaishnav philosophy. He once spoke about the green bird entering the green tree, an apparently common sight in India. The point he made was when a green bird enters a green tree the bird does not merge in oneness. The bird retains his individuality. This example is given to illustrate that the soul does not lose his/her distinctiveness when entering the spirit world.
I was pleasantly reminded of this when seeing a red cardinal bird fly into a red rose bush, during AM walking. A second cardinal in flight came to land and join the first to conceal themselves in the flowers.
Today thoughts took my attention to my siblings and a niece in North York. I went to visit them out of love and obligation. They are also saints; not dancers, writers or teachers of philosophy. But I can proudly say that as far as duty and loyalty to family and community they score high in these areas. In that regard I consider them saints. I’m speaking of Connie, Pauline and Tarelyn. They are definitely my worth dropping in on from time to time. Perhaps one day I will see them become vegetarian.
In any event saints can be defined in many ways. There are different gradations of them and there are many of them.
6 KM
Wednesday, 6 July 2011
Tuesday, July 5th, 2011
Acceptance!
Terra Cotta, Ontario
I spent a glorious few hours with Bob, Judy, their daughters, Raj and Surabhi in the village of Terra Cotta. Red clay is prevalent in this nestled away sweet place with the Credit River running through it; the rusty earth tone explains the name of the hamlet.
Bob and Judy are school teachers and I put them in the category of Brahmin friends. Their approach to spirituality, Christianity, may be a slightly different approach than their guests, yet I hold it in high admiration that they are as accepting of us as they are of their own fellow worshippers. In fact over a scrumptious lunch and the trek on Bruce Trail they kept encouraging us to seriously consider purchasing the property next to their lovely home so that they could have mutual-thinking neighbours by their side.
What a fantastic couple and family!
I had a continual progressive day from the stand point of acceptance and harmonization. From Terra Cotta I visited three more households in the area, of people of our community. These were people who took time for bonding and gaining an increased understanding though simple dialogue. The end result in each case was, “Hey we are all family!”
As I wound up the day with final contemplations of the day’s stock I was humoured by my first contacts of early morning, a group of young men who identified themselves from the Sikh and Muslim tradition. They were very amiable with me as I walked Yorkville Ave in Toronto. They did smoke. They did probe.
“Are you Buddhist?”
“No!… Hare Krishna!”
“Oh yeah! How did you get into this?… And what is the co-relation between ganja and the Ganges?”
At this question I had to laugh knowing what was important to them. At least I was not dismissed by the group. When you consider that both the Ganges and ganja were dear to many of us who became monks in due course of time someone has to befriend such fellows and give them hope that there are such things more precious than smoking your life away in dreams.
10 Km
Terra Cotta, Ontario
I spent a glorious few hours with Bob, Judy, their daughters, Raj and Surabhi in the village of Terra Cotta. Red clay is prevalent in this nestled away sweet place with the Credit River running through it; the rusty earth tone explains the name of the hamlet.
Bob and Judy are school teachers and I put them in the category of Brahmin friends. Their approach to spirituality, Christianity, may be a slightly different approach than their guests, yet I hold it in high admiration that they are as accepting of us as they are of their own fellow worshippers. In fact over a scrumptious lunch and the trek on Bruce Trail they kept encouraging us to seriously consider purchasing the property next to their lovely home so that they could have mutual-thinking neighbours by their side.
What a fantastic couple and family!
I had a continual progressive day from the stand point of acceptance and harmonization. From Terra Cotta I visited three more households in the area, of people of our community. These were people who took time for bonding and gaining an increased understanding though simple dialogue. The end result in each case was, “Hey we are all family!”
As I wound up the day with final contemplations of the day’s stock I was humoured by my first contacts of early morning, a group of young men who identified themselves from the Sikh and Muslim tradition. They were very amiable with me as I walked Yorkville Ave in Toronto. They did smoke. They did probe.
“Are you Buddhist?”
“No!… Hare Krishna!”
“Oh yeah! How did you get into this?… And what is the co-relation between ganja and the Ganges?”
At this question I had to laugh knowing what was important to them. At least I was not dismissed by the group. When you consider that both the Ganges and ganja were dear to many of us who became monks in due course of time someone has to befriend such fellows and give them hope that there are such things more precious than smoking your life away in dreams.
10 Km
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