Meet People
San Diego, California
Dhananjaya and I took to peripatetic activities. Out trekking took us along Pacific Beach, where we would later on go for a swim. Our ashram is located so close to sand and ocean and, as I've been told, our monks do take advantage of swimming opportunities when it's more safe for monks. As one of them put it, "Outside the bikini hours."
Dhananjaya and I were about to finish our term when two young guys and a girl came towards us trying to get our attention.
"Hey!" said one of the guys.
We stopped.
"What are you doin'?"
"We're walking and meditating!"
"Can you walk and meditate at the same time?" ask the fellow in a slurred voice. (It was a party-all nighter.)
"We are doing mantra meditation. We try to tap into sound that is other worldly." I asked them to close their eyes and listen to the mantra, "Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna…" They liked that.
"Who is Krishna?" Is He the one with the many legs?" asked the girl who called herself Robin.
"No! We are looking at two arms and two legs and He is a celestial blue-like Avatar."
"Oh yeah, okay?" said one of the guys.
Somehow I had a feeling that they would make it someday to our ashram on Grand Ave.
"The invitations on," I said. I relayed this encounter to the monks seated in class in the ashram and also at my evening talk at the home of Pandava for a spiritual gathering. My purpose in doing so was to endorse the practice of going out into the neighbourhood in your devotional wear and see what friends you'll make.
10 KM
B L O G S P O T
Saturday, 17 August 2013
Wednesday, 14 August 2013
Monday, August 12th, 2013
A Button Popped
San Diego, California
Intuition told me that the day might have some bumps in it. Some signs seemed to indicate this. It began with having a button pop off my upper cloth, the kurta. Where it rolled off to, heaven knows!
Then, my plane arrived late. It first launched from San Francisco, where it was delayed due to thick fog in the sky. That then led to missing the plane to San Diego. Then, confusion with luggage; long lineups; praying and pleading for an earlier, new flight to substitute for the proposed one. I got a bit panicky for a bit. I was supposed to arrive in San Diego to award diksa (initiation) for a young monk by the name of Bhakta David.
Eventually, United Airlines found one seat available. Someone cancelled out! This meant I could fulfill an obligation. But, only my walking would suffer. For me, a day without trekking is not exactly a tragedy, but it’s a mild curse.
The landing at San Diego terminated the airport experience. David was at Arrivals with a big smile. We drove to the ISKCON ashram on Grand Avenue. Here, you’ve got a real live monastery with 15-20 saffron clad monks, mostly college grad young men. They kept me quite occupied. A fire ceremony was held, and Bhakta David received his new Sanskrit name Dhanajaya, a name that Krishna’s friend Arjuna is known by. A congratulations, Dhanajaya! My first personal assignment for him was to sew a button on my kurta.
0 KM
San Diego, California
Intuition told me that the day might have some bumps in it. Some signs seemed to indicate this. It began with having a button pop off my upper cloth, the kurta. Where it rolled off to, heaven knows!
Then, my plane arrived late. It first launched from San Francisco, where it was delayed due to thick fog in the sky. That then led to missing the plane to San Diego. Then, confusion with luggage; long lineups; praying and pleading for an earlier, new flight to substitute for the proposed one. I got a bit panicky for a bit. I was supposed to arrive in San Diego to award diksa (initiation) for a young monk by the name of Bhakta David.
Eventually, United Airlines found one seat available. Someone cancelled out! This meant I could fulfill an obligation. But, only my walking would suffer. For me, a day without trekking is not exactly a tragedy, but it’s a mild curse.
The landing at San Diego terminated the airport experience. David was at Arrivals with a big smile. We drove to the ISKCON ashram on Grand Avenue. Here, you’ve got a real live monastery with 15-20 saffron clad monks, mostly college grad young men. They kept me quite occupied. A fire ceremony was held, and Bhakta David received his new Sanskrit name Dhanajaya, a name that Krishna’s friend Arjuna is known by. A congratulations, Dhanajaya! My first personal assignment for him was to sew a button on my kurta.
0 KM
Sunday, August 11th, 2013
Insert Devotion
Vancouver, BC
There’s always something rustling in the bushes. There’s always something stirring in the swamp. You can hear the sudden swish, amidst the reeds, or an abrupt bloop – the sound of a mini-creature going for the dive in algaed water. These are nature’s responses to my loud prowl, lurking in their territory as I made three repeated treks down the same route in riverside.
The instinctive fear in the land and amphibious creatures astounds me. They are so quick to move and then they become so still. Humans are so far behind the rest of the species in such sharp detectiveness. In an attempt to excel in this, we use whatever brain substance to steer ourselves to inventions of devastating devices.
I could report on today’s glorious fest at Stanley Park, but that could detour us from the trails that I am determined to report. In reflection of the last twenty-four hours, my three treks in this delta strip left me in amazement over the concept of fear. I first trekked alone. For my second, I was with an American devotee (the name escapes me) who walked the whole of India; and the third trek was with Sing Lung (dancer/actor from Toronto). Fear is so pervasive. It’s in all of us, so much entrenched. For the animal kingdom, fear translates into “will I be eaten?” For a human it’s, “Will I be ridiculed, criticized, character assassinated?”
How to address this reality of possibly losing your hide? What’s the optimum protection?
Bless the humble creatures, the lower brethren, who must live out their tenuous destiny. As humans, we have an obligation to protect their domain in order that they may be permitted to follow their natural course. Secondly, we have the opportunity to protect our spirit from moving in the direction of the world of Maya - this nagging world that sucks out our very life.
Let’s live life the best we can. Insert devotion.
11 KM
Vancouver, BC
There’s always something rustling in the bushes. There’s always something stirring in the swamp. You can hear the sudden swish, amidst the reeds, or an abrupt bloop – the sound of a mini-creature going for the dive in algaed water. These are nature’s responses to my loud prowl, lurking in their territory as I made three repeated treks down the same route in riverside.
The instinctive fear in the land and amphibious creatures astounds me. They are so quick to move and then they become so still. Humans are so far behind the rest of the species in such sharp detectiveness. In an attempt to excel in this, we use whatever brain substance to steer ourselves to inventions of devastating devices.
I could report on today’s glorious fest at Stanley Park, but that could detour us from the trails that I am determined to report. In reflection of the last twenty-four hours, my three treks in this delta strip left me in amazement over the concept of fear. I first trekked alone. For my second, I was with an American devotee (the name escapes me) who walked the whole of India; and the third trek was with Sing Lung (dancer/actor from Toronto). Fear is so pervasive. It’s in all of us, so much entrenched. For the animal kingdom, fear translates into “will I be eaten?” For a human it’s, “Will I be ridiculed, criticized, character assassinated?”
How to address this reality of possibly losing your hide? What’s the optimum protection?
Bless the humble creatures, the lower brethren, who must live out their tenuous destiny. As humans, we have an obligation to protect their domain in order that they may be permitted to follow their natural course. Secondly, we have the opportunity to protect our spirit from moving in the direction of the world of Maya - this nagging world that sucks out our very life.
Let’s live life the best we can. Insert devotion.
11 KM
Saturday, 10 August 2013
Thursday, August 8th, 2013
Loop It!
Burnaby, British Columbia
I had begun and ended the day with chanting, walking by Riverside, established in 1861. The river being referred to is the Fraser, a major water artery in the lower mainland Vancouver.
Re-visiting the same route a second time felt like the day looped. I ended where I started. And that is pretty much how life is. It's cyclic. Such are the movements of the sun. The moon. The seasons go that way as well.
Our tiny spark of life, our very self, meets birth and death repeatedly until we make a change within. It's a circle game and then we make it linear. Apparently we will connect again with a world of circles.
The Sastras, ancient texts, reveal that we will be walking in a world free of inebriates.The walk, which will be under the shelter of either a fresh sun or a full moon, will have kick to it. It may be a skip, most definitely a dance.
I'm reminded that the current world in which we live in is a perverted reflection of the spiritual world. Our guru used to say this. We can ask ourself, "How can I get out of the perversities of life?" The answer would have some content to do with how you walk your way in this world. It would be good to take the steady march of dharma, of principles, while enjoying the stroll at the same time.
Out of a sense of duty, I found myself dealing with a number of practical issues involving the community. Some of the matter were quite draining but I pulled through and came to terms with sticking to duty. I felt some comfort in that resolve as well as some reciprocation from the Lord in the Heart.
I will try again, and again and try to loop it.
8 KM
Burnaby, British Columbia
I had begun and ended the day with chanting, walking by Riverside, established in 1861. The river being referred to is the Fraser, a major water artery in the lower mainland Vancouver.
Re-visiting the same route a second time felt like the day looped. I ended where I started. And that is pretty much how life is. It's cyclic. Such are the movements of the sun. The moon. The seasons go that way as well.
Our tiny spark of life, our very self, meets birth and death repeatedly until we make a change within. It's a circle game and then we make it linear. Apparently we will connect again with a world of circles.
The Sastras, ancient texts, reveal that we will be walking in a world free of inebriates.The walk, which will be under the shelter of either a fresh sun or a full moon, will have kick to it. It may be a skip, most definitely a dance.
I'm reminded that the current world in which we live in is a perverted reflection of the spiritual world. Our guru used to say this. We can ask ourself, "How can I get out of the perversities of life?" The answer would have some content to do with how you walk your way in this world. It would be good to take the steady march of dharma, of principles, while enjoying the stroll at the same time.
Out of a sense of duty, I found myself dealing with a number of practical issues involving the community. Some of the matter were quite draining but I pulled through and came to terms with sticking to duty. I felt some comfort in that resolve as well as some reciprocation from the Lord in the Heart.
I will try again, and again and try to loop it.
8 KM
Thursday, 8 August 2013
Wednesday, August 7th, 2013
The Woman
Burnaby, British Columbia
The woman at the Toronto airport was a passenger, ready to embark on the same flight as myself, destined for Vancouver. At the waiting area, she asked me that all too familiar question, "Are you a monk?" We began a conversation. Naturally, we got onto talking about not just me but also herself. She was born in Scotland and was raised Catholic. In recent years she had gone more "eastern" in her approach quoting Deepak Chopra that it's all inside of you, meaning the spiritual you. There was some implication from her side that you don't need an organized religion to depend on for your salvation.
I have to agree in part that it's all "from within" and that no religion should tell you all of what to do, but we can get some guidance and direction from someone. After all, Deepak did give this woman (my age) some direction. The moment we stop hearing from good sources, I guess, you think you're God.
In the Vedic system from India, a person on the path of self-actualization, actually accepts a guru, one who teaches selflessness, how to cultivate good character, how to live, even how to think and how to love.
This woman, who resides in Windsor and was on a visit to the west coast, concurred that teachers are needed. We wanted to continue but boarding time came and so we broke off the uplifted dialogue between us.
After a 4 and a 1/2 hour flight I deplaned and a gentleman in a suit and with the warmest smile and who was trying to sell me on an air miles program, asked the classic question, "Are you a monk?" "Yes, a Krishna monk," I said to the man who happened to be Iranian. "So you are from Iran, an Aryan, right?
"Yes, we Iranians are supposed to have some of that in us," he said.
"Great," I indicated. Aryans of India always accepted teachers, were keen on spiritual progression and were God-believing.
0 KM
Burnaby, British Columbia
The woman at the Toronto airport was a passenger, ready to embark on the same flight as myself, destined for Vancouver. At the waiting area, she asked me that all too familiar question, "Are you a monk?" We began a conversation. Naturally, we got onto talking about not just me but also herself. She was born in Scotland and was raised Catholic. In recent years she had gone more "eastern" in her approach quoting Deepak Chopra that it's all inside of you, meaning the spiritual you. There was some implication from her side that you don't need an organized religion to depend on for your salvation.
I have to agree in part that it's all "from within" and that no religion should tell you all of what to do, but we can get some guidance and direction from someone. After all, Deepak did give this woman (my age) some direction. The moment we stop hearing from good sources, I guess, you think you're God.
In the Vedic system from India, a person on the path of self-actualization, actually accepts a guru, one who teaches selflessness, how to cultivate good character, how to live, even how to think and how to love.
This woman, who resides in Windsor and was on a visit to the west coast, concurred that teachers are needed. We wanted to continue but boarding time came and so we broke off the uplifted dialogue between us.
After a 4 and a 1/2 hour flight I deplaned and a gentleman in a suit and with the warmest smile and who was trying to sell me on an air miles program, asked the classic question, "Are you a monk?" "Yes, a Krishna monk," I said to the man who happened to be Iranian. "So you are from Iran, an Aryan, right?
"Yes, we Iranians are supposed to have some of that in us," he said.
"Great," I indicated. Aryans of India always accepted teachers, were keen on spiritual progression and were God-believing.
0 KM
Wednesday, 7 August 2013
Tuesday, August 6th, 2013
To Please Guru and God
Toronto, Ontario
Our guru, Srila Prabhupada always wanted to see his ashrams and temples look good, that they would be clean, neat and tidy. This was evident by the things he said and did. If need be, he would go at it himself to fix the problem or insist that his young and energetic students clean up whatever mess may have been created.
Cleanliness is next to Godliness. Cleanliness leaves a good impression, it also makes the atmosphere very conducive for spiritual activity. You want to have an atmosphere that is clean, both externally and internally for body and soul.
Our guru liked things first class. That attracts and this attraction ultimately would direct a visitor or seeker to Krishna.
Today was another day where neatness, colour and décor came to grace our temple. God and burgundy drapery was hung over the upper windows of the temple’s dining room called Govinda’s. The look in the end is gorgeous and is fit for a king in his palace. Of course, everything was done smartly and from a practical point of view, done within budgetary means.
This particular room is a 20 foot high ceiling space with Gothic arches and columns at their junctures. This room was also the original chapel for a Methodist congregation at the turn of the 19th century. Royal chambers they now resemble and are there to please guru and God. Visit Govinda’s for a great meal and ambience, feel spiritual; Monday – Saturday, 12 – 2:30 pm and 6 – 8:30 pm.
8 KM
Toronto, Ontario
Our guru, Srila Prabhupada always wanted to see his ashrams and temples look good, that they would be clean, neat and tidy. This was evident by the things he said and did. If need be, he would go at it himself to fix the problem or insist that his young and energetic students clean up whatever mess may have been created.
Cleanliness is next to Godliness. Cleanliness leaves a good impression, it also makes the atmosphere very conducive for spiritual activity. You want to have an atmosphere that is clean, both externally and internally for body and soul.
Our guru liked things first class. That attracts and this attraction ultimately would direct a visitor or seeker to Krishna.
Today was another day where neatness, colour and décor came to grace our temple. God and burgundy drapery was hung over the upper windows of the temple’s dining room called Govinda’s. The look in the end is gorgeous and is fit for a king in his palace. Of course, everything was done smartly and from a practical point of view, done within budgetary means.
This particular room is a 20 foot high ceiling space with Gothic arches and columns at their junctures. This room was also the original chapel for a Methodist congregation at the turn of the 19th century. Royal chambers they now resemble and are there to please guru and God. Visit Govinda’s for a great meal and ambience, feel spiritual; Monday – Saturday, 12 – 2:30 pm and 6 – 8:30 pm.
8 KM
Monday, August 5th, 2013
A Question Came
Leamington, Ontario
A question came from one of our retreat members as we had some time to kill.
“When I approach people about this higher consciousness, they sometimes express disinterest, ‘The problem I have with all of you religious people is each one of you expresses the same self-righteousness. You say we are the only true faith or this is the highest form of religion or there’s the classic, only one way. How do I know which way is right? Maybe you’re all wrong.’ What kind of a response can I give these people that I meet?”
To answer such a sincere question, here’s my take on it.
Answer: As an objective and sincere seeker of the truth one can see that there are many many choices around there, around the globe, and people have benefitted tremendously from participating in the various spiritual functions. We would like to affirm that any system that brings you closer to the Divine is valid and can be honoured. Any program that especially subdues ego is to be praised, and blessed are those who have acceptance, beyond tolerance, for anyone whose approach is different from their own.
Now, how to know the right path? You are at liberty to scan all that’s available to you, and when you get to the Hare Krishnas just check out the delicious sponsored vegetarian feast, the drumming and the singing of ancient mantras and have a look and hear an ancient wisdom rich in philosophy. See the smiles and the happy faces, hear about a dancing God who’s also musical and tilts His head to a curious gesture that reads, “Won’t you celebrate with me?"
That’s how I would answer it.
10 KM
Leamington, Ontario
A question came from one of our retreat members as we had some time to kill.
“When I approach people about this higher consciousness, they sometimes express disinterest, ‘The problem I have with all of you religious people is each one of you expresses the same self-righteousness. You say we are the only true faith or this is the highest form of religion or there’s the classic, only one way. How do I know which way is right? Maybe you’re all wrong.’ What kind of a response can I give these people that I meet?”
To answer such a sincere question, here’s my take on it.
Answer: As an objective and sincere seeker of the truth one can see that there are many many choices around there, around the globe, and people have benefitted tremendously from participating in the various spiritual functions. We would like to affirm that any system that brings you closer to the Divine is valid and can be honoured. Any program that especially subdues ego is to be praised, and blessed are those who have acceptance, beyond tolerance, for anyone whose approach is different from their own.
Now, how to know the right path? You are at liberty to scan all that’s available to you, and when you get to the Hare Krishnas just check out the delicious sponsored vegetarian feast, the drumming and the singing of ancient mantras and have a look and hear an ancient wisdom rich in philosophy. See the smiles and the happy faces, hear about a dancing God who’s also musical and tilts His head to a curious gesture that reads, “Won’t you celebrate with me?"
That’s how I would answer it.
10 KM
Tuesday, 6 August 2013
Sunday, August 4th, 2013
Pushing At Pelee
Pelee Island, Ontario
This area, my childhood playground, you could say, I left forty years ago. South Western Ontario is where life began for me in this body before heading for what seemed to be greener pastures. I pursued studies in college up north, then moved to T Dot (another word for Toronto) the big city, to take up life in the ashram as a monk. I travel the world and now come back to heart-string pulling 'home' and I see the pastures, literally, that I left behind are indeed green.
I mean, everything grow here, especially tomatoes. And what about sand? Reminiscence takes me to beaches where those tiny granules of dirt hug your feet. It's a good feeling.
So here we are in Pelee Island, one of those childhood places, where baking in the sun with transistor radio next to you was the thing to do along with trekking a nature trail through Carolinian forest.
The 'we' are a group of devotees from Michigan and Ontario who have converged on a retreat. We jumped in the much warmer Lake Erie and kept that volley ball bounced in the air tossing at each other to the hopeful count of '108'. We only made it halfway, at the count of '52' actually before it hit the water. To me this attempt at keeping the object up is analogous to the soul staying up and staying dry. The jeeva 'the soul' must not fall to the mundane-ness but must remain liberated.
Also our walk down a pebbled-bound strip of endless peninsula forced austerity. At some spots the sand was burning on the soles. We then found ourselves shifting to more firm wet ground until that turned into sinking pebble zones. We shift again, but we kept going until we reached zenith-point - the end of sand, where the undertoe of the water became dangerous.
The activities of the day also included great prasadam, the ultimate yoga food to satisfy tongue and soul - it's all therapy.
We had played hard until we tired ourselves out. We pushed ourselves even up to the end. When we had an exhilarating kirtan that filled the ether on the ferry, the Jiimaan, all the way back to mainland, a sweet hour and a half.
That was it! We pushed our souls not to the limit, but to the unlimited - the bonding was good. Jambavan, a real Brahmin from Detroit, said "Let me know when you are doing this next year. I'm on board."
7 KM
Pelee Island, Ontario
This area, my childhood playground, you could say, I left forty years ago. South Western Ontario is where life began for me in this body before heading for what seemed to be greener pastures. I pursued studies in college up north, then moved to T Dot (another word for Toronto) the big city, to take up life in the ashram as a monk. I travel the world and now come back to heart-string pulling 'home' and I see the pastures, literally, that I left behind are indeed green.
I mean, everything grow here, especially tomatoes. And what about sand? Reminiscence takes me to beaches where those tiny granules of dirt hug your feet. It's a good feeling.
So here we are in Pelee Island, one of those childhood places, where baking in the sun with transistor radio next to you was the thing to do along with trekking a nature trail through Carolinian forest.
The 'we' are a group of devotees from Michigan and Ontario who have converged on a retreat. We jumped in the much warmer Lake Erie and kept that volley ball bounced in the air tossing at each other to the hopeful count of '108'. We only made it halfway, at the count of '52' actually before it hit the water. To me this attempt at keeping the object up is analogous to the soul staying up and staying dry. The jeeva 'the soul' must not fall to the mundane-ness but must remain liberated.
Also our walk down a pebbled-bound strip of endless peninsula forced austerity. At some spots the sand was burning on the soles. We then found ourselves shifting to more firm wet ground until that turned into sinking pebble zones. We shift again, but we kept going until we reached zenith-point - the end of sand, where the undertoe of the water became dangerous.
The activities of the day also included great prasadam, the ultimate yoga food to satisfy tongue and soul - it's all therapy.
We had played hard until we tired ourselves out. We pushed ourselves even up to the end. When we had an exhilarating kirtan that filled the ether on the ferry, the Jiimaan, all the way back to mainland, a sweet hour and a half.
That was it! We pushed our souls not to the limit, but to the unlimited - the bonding was good. Jambavan, a real Brahmin from Detroit, said "Let me know when you are doing this next year. I'm on board."
7 KM
Saturday, August 3rd, 2013
Chilling at the Bluffs
Scaraborough, Ontario
The cliffs or bluffs at Lake Ontario's edge just east of Toronto are naturally impressive. This was the site of the 4th year anniversary of the sankirtan events that take place monthly. Resident monks and lay members from the Krishna community make the public more accessible to the One with the Blue Skin and the message of gold, the Bhagavad-Gita by being on the streets with mantras and books.
In a less formal style and minimal structure the group converged at the park at the bluffs, which to my speculation are a delicate piece of mother nature's wonder. This likely explains why the man-made park is acting as a barrier to powerful water waves that could erode the bluffs.
I was asked by organizers R. Mohan and S. Mohini to conduct a walk while sweet corn was being barbecued and spiced with lemon juice and chat masala. Yummy! The walk along the meandering path actually turned into a herbal trek. Plants and trees which I could identify for their appearance, smell, and divine properties became known to the group. Whatever little I have received on the subject began with the marathon walks. We were looking at the chickory, burdock, cedar, thistle, plantain, jewel-weed, sumac, and so many more.
A clear point to ponder and a question I posed, "we know models of cars but do we know our plants?" When asked I received a response. I saw a few faces light up tinged with silly embarrassment.
A gorgeous white crane stood like a sage amidst water lilies. It was a divine spot for sure. I think we broke his meditation. He went in flight.
Several of us blokes took to swimming while others, crazed over the sport, cricket, went their way.
This was just another one of those chill-out sessions; much needed for those devotionally engaged in a bee-hive of activity. The regimen and service-oriented life of bhakti can be taxing and therefore a breath of fresh air in the form of bluff-gazing is sometimes necessary. One thing is, I'm the lucky one who gets to hop from one chill-out to the next.
6 KM
Scaraborough, Ontario
The cliffs or bluffs at Lake Ontario's edge just east of Toronto are naturally impressive. This was the site of the 4th year anniversary of the sankirtan events that take place monthly. Resident monks and lay members from the Krishna community make the public more accessible to the One with the Blue Skin and the message of gold, the Bhagavad-Gita by being on the streets with mantras and books.
In a less formal style and minimal structure the group converged at the park at the bluffs, which to my speculation are a delicate piece of mother nature's wonder. This likely explains why the man-made park is acting as a barrier to powerful water waves that could erode the bluffs.
I was asked by organizers R. Mohan and S. Mohini to conduct a walk while sweet corn was being barbecued and spiced with lemon juice and chat masala. Yummy! The walk along the meandering path actually turned into a herbal trek. Plants and trees which I could identify for their appearance, smell, and divine properties became known to the group. Whatever little I have received on the subject began with the marathon walks. We were looking at the chickory, burdock, cedar, thistle, plantain, jewel-weed, sumac, and so many more.
A clear point to ponder and a question I posed, "we know models of cars but do we know our plants?" When asked I received a response. I saw a few faces light up tinged with silly embarrassment.
A gorgeous white crane stood like a sage amidst water lilies. It was a divine spot for sure. I think we broke his meditation. He went in flight.
Several of us blokes took to swimming while others, crazed over the sport, cricket, went their way.
This was just another one of those chill-out sessions; much needed for those devotionally engaged in a bee-hive of activity. The regimen and service-oriented life of bhakti can be taxing and therefore a breath of fresh air in the form of bluff-gazing is sometimes necessary. One thing is, I'm the lucky one who gets to hop from one chill-out to the next.
6 KM
Saturday, 3 August 2013
Friday, August 2nd, 2013
Several of Our Monks
Unionville, Ontario
Several of our monks went for chanting on the streets in downtown Toronto. The city is abuzz with Carribana Festival fever perculating for the weekend.
Providence had me go northbound for another type of chanting session. It was a funeral. I was asked to chant at Chapel Ridge Funeral Home. The intent was to give comfort to the family members whom I've had a relationship with, going on four decades. When Mohinder Bhagat called our ashram to see if I was available to attend he mentioned that I attended his dad's funeral, who as a senior, had spent time living with us in the ashram. His name was Govind and he had me name his first grand child, a girl. So, the bond was there.
I secured a ride from Dhira, a Sri Lankan devotee, and a musician devotee, Philippe, to accompany me in the sound of shanti (peace). So, in honour of the deceased, Chandrikal Bhagat, we chanted a soft melodious mantra.
I would say that the priest, Dr Srivatsa, conducted very professionally and devotionally, the last rites. It made me wonder why we don't have an expert like this pundit in our ashram community who so smoothly tends to such rites of passage? Marriages, births, deaths and other samskaras (sacrements or rites of passage) play an integral part in a community's and an individual's life's achievements. In other words the programs of "hatch, match and dispatch" are hoops that we all jump through in life. (If you remain a life-long celibate like myself then dispatch does not apply.)
Chandrikal had a beautiful passing. Even the pundit mentioned that the light rain which fell prior to the actual cremation was very auspicious. We were very happy for her.
7 KM
Unionville, Ontario
Several of our monks went for chanting on the streets in downtown Toronto. The city is abuzz with Carribana Festival fever perculating for the weekend.
Providence had me go northbound for another type of chanting session. It was a funeral. I was asked to chant at Chapel Ridge Funeral Home. The intent was to give comfort to the family members whom I've had a relationship with, going on four decades. When Mohinder Bhagat called our ashram to see if I was available to attend he mentioned that I attended his dad's funeral, who as a senior, had spent time living with us in the ashram. His name was Govind and he had me name his first grand child, a girl. So, the bond was there.
I secured a ride from Dhira, a Sri Lankan devotee, and a musician devotee, Philippe, to accompany me in the sound of shanti (peace). So, in honour of the deceased, Chandrikal Bhagat, we chanted a soft melodious mantra.
I would say that the priest, Dr Srivatsa, conducted very professionally and devotionally, the last rites. It made me wonder why we don't have an expert like this pundit in our ashram community who so smoothly tends to such rites of passage? Marriages, births, deaths and other samskaras (sacrements or rites of passage) play an integral part in a community's and an individual's life's achievements. In other words the programs of "hatch, match and dispatch" are hoops that we all jump through in life. (If you remain a life-long celibate like myself then dispatch does not apply.)
Chandrikal had a beautiful passing. Even the pundit mentioned that the light rain which fell prior to the actual cremation was very auspicious. We were very happy for her.
7 KM
Friday, 2 August 2013
Thursday, August 1st, 2013
In Some Way
North York, Ontario
Connie and Pauline are both sisters of mine in their fifties, while Jordon, Connie's son, is a young university-aged guy. They and I teamed up for a walk along the Don West River where water was gushing forth from the previous night's stretched-out rainfall. It became a familial walk as much as it was naturally and aesthetically pleasing.
We got caught up in things; new with anything to do with the views of Ralph Nader to recounting walking monk encounters with people and to the notation of vegetation all around us to the Pope's recent remarks about gay people. The hearing and chatter of subject matters held a full range that took us all over the world. Our minds were immersed in past and current affairs. We actually left the Don River several times mentally before it was time to terminate the walking for snacks at Pauline's - cucumber chunks to dip into a batch of her homemade hummus.
It's occasions like this that gives me a chance to insert a little something about spirituality. My kith and kin always show some interest. There's never been hostility or major resistance when the subjects have surfaced. I've resigned to the fact that I won't convert but to play the role of brother and uncle. I can't resist, in their company, to poke at their regular carnivorous eating habits. It's their customary choice and there's not much I can do.
Anyways, this is more or less an annual kind of coming together and with the very little baby steps taken to evolve, I believe we all are moving forward in some way.
7 KM
North York, Ontario
Connie and Pauline are both sisters of mine in their fifties, while Jordon, Connie's son, is a young university-aged guy. They and I teamed up for a walk along the Don West River where water was gushing forth from the previous night's stretched-out rainfall. It became a familial walk as much as it was naturally and aesthetically pleasing.
We got caught up in things; new with anything to do with the views of Ralph Nader to recounting walking monk encounters with people and to the notation of vegetation all around us to the Pope's recent remarks about gay people. The hearing and chatter of subject matters held a full range that took us all over the world. Our minds were immersed in past and current affairs. We actually left the Don River several times mentally before it was time to terminate the walking for snacks at Pauline's - cucumber chunks to dip into a batch of her homemade hummus.
It's occasions like this that gives me a chance to insert a little something about spirituality. My kith and kin always show some interest. There's never been hostility or major resistance when the subjects have surfaced. I've resigned to the fact that I won't convert but to play the role of brother and uncle. I can't resist, in their company, to poke at their regular carnivorous eating habits. It's their customary choice and there's not much I can do.
Anyways, this is more or less an annual kind of coming together and with the very little baby steps taken to evolve, I believe we all are moving forward in some way.
7 KM
Thursday, 1 August 2013
Wednesday, July 31st, 2013
Insomnia
Toronto, Ontario
Insomnia hit hard once again. In addressing it I decided to put on my sneakers for walking. Before that, I donned rather large swimming trunks. Why? Well, it was raining out. Dhotis don't always score well in the wetness. Over the torso was a new gift, a dark blue XL T-shirt which reads, 'Volunteer for Festival of India.'
It was night time. Being summer the rain was warm, so little impediment is what I felt. My monk-in-cognito attire had purely to do with practicality; something I've learned from being a student of Srila Prabhupada.
Rain persisted. The walking persisted. The soft chanting persisted. It was a pleasant and liquid walk. I ended the walk just before midnight hoping to be fatigued enough. It just didn't come - the "feel" to sleep. The will was there.
I kept walking, but inside, now, in a dry setting, pacing back and forth. For a moment I dwelt on the curse that haunts me and then resigned to the fact that I'm giving more time to the mantra.
I ask for no pity. Everyone in this world has some deficiency, a personal issue, which might even cause one to reach for a tissue, a reaction.
We are reminded that along with this body, there's always some discomfort. That's clearly a message from the Gita - dukhalayam asasvatam.
Personally I wish that I didn't have to sleep. Think of the hours we could save and the service that could be rendered in that time! Introspectively I perceive those moments of wakefulness as precious because while the whole world is asleep, it appears only you and God are not.
10 KM
Toronto, Ontario
Insomnia hit hard once again. In addressing it I decided to put on my sneakers for walking. Before that, I donned rather large swimming trunks. Why? Well, it was raining out. Dhotis don't always score well in the wetness. Over the torso was a new gift, a dark blue XL T-shirt which reads, 'Volunteer for Festival of India.'
It was night time. Being summer the rain was warm, so little impediment is what I felt. My monk-in-cognito attire had purely to do with practicality; something I've learned from being a student of Srila Prabhupada.
Rain persisted. The walking persisted. The soft chanting persisted. It was a pleasant and liquid walk. I ended the walk just before midnight hoping to be fatigued enough. It just didn't come - the "feel" to sleep. The will was there.
I kept walking, but inside, now, in a dry setting, pacing back and forth. For a moment I dwelt on the curse that haunts me and then resigned to the fact that I'm giving more time to the mantra.
I ask for no pity. Everyone in this world has some deficiency, a personal issue, which might even cause one to reach for a tissue, a reaction.
We are reminded that along with this body, there's always some discomfort. That's clearly a message from the Gita - dukhalayam asasvatam.
Personally I wish that I didn't have to sleep. Think of the hours we could save and the service that could be rendered in that time! Introspectively I perceive those moments of wakefulness as precious because while the whole world is asleep, it appears only you and God are not.
10 KM
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