Friday, 2 September 2016

Tuesday, August 23rd, 2016

Tuesday, August 23rd, 2016
Toronto, Ontario

I Was Concerned

I was very concerned for this little guy, a skinny skunk, who was about to cross the street.  Defensive instincts told him, “Not now!”  The head-lights of the car and the sound of its engine were enough to deter the little fellow from crossing.  After the vehicle passed, the skinny skunk did delicately bee-line his way over to my side of the street, bringing us close together.

“Not too close!”  I pondered.

Now, he was scampering about in an area away from green trees, grass and bushes, while on the search for food.  He took more to a concrete trail.  I felt for him and wanted to guide him to a safer zone, more away from traffic.  I would not let him cross Yonge St., known for its merciless motorists.

The skinny skunk could hear me chant and see me walking.  I was trying to guide.  He went on the defensive at one point, and abruptly stopped and lifted his tail, prepared to spray his essential oil.  I halted.  I could see the clear Vaisnava-like marking running along his back, commencing at his neck.

What a terrific reminder!  He’s making me think of Vishnu with that white striping.  After one long block of his finding no escape from human imposition—namely the attached buildings: a bakery, a bar, a software store and such—he made a turn to the right, to a residential green zone.

I was happy for him—the skunk.  But, I wondered why he was skinny.

May the Source be with you!

5 km

 

Monday, August 22nd, 2016

Monday, August 22nd, 2016
Burnaby, British Columbia

3 Kilometres Only

Nitai Ram, Marty and I put a few minutes of investment into adjusting lazy legs.  At least, I can speak for myself that the brief jaunt to the Chinese/Punjabi farmland nearby was warranted.

To explain my feelings on this, I have to say that when I come to a destination of festival-fun and people-needs, it eats up lovely time.  I can’t always take the people with me on a stroll and then talk about what’s on their mind.  I consider myself lucky to get a few moments to ‘breeze with ease’ on feet.

My biggest regret when attending something like the Chariot Festival in Vancouver (now passé by a day) is that I can’t reach all the folks I feel I need to contact.  It is for my sake and theirs that there be even a miniscule interaction.

So, today is wrap-up time, put-away-and-good-bye time.  Deborah, who had been waiting for Harinam initiation for some time received her diksha name—Saci Priya, “one dear to Saci, the mother of Chaitanya.”  She and family turned up to be there.  I also visited Jogender, a man of sincerity in service.  He heads up a security systems company.  He was telling me of recent break-ins, reminding me of crooks who lurk around.  Common are those people who move around with a back-pack. “Both men and women,” he said, “who carry a power tool for break and enter.”  His cameras catch people all the time.

Safety is a big factor these days.  Surrender to the Supreme and feel safe.

May the Source be with you!

3 km (only)

Thursday, 1 September 2016

Sunday, August 21st, 2016

Sunday, August 21st, 2016
Vancouver, British Columbia

Having Friends

Two walks of mini-distance made the day.  Victor and I ventured to the Fraser River.  A quiet trail of minor obstructions shaped the adventure on this first walk.  A railroad track, no real issue, provided a change of texture on the feet.  And at one point, I rocked and rolled by way of a stone that almost sent me on my butt.

At another point, Victor and I, with utmost care, squeezed through those outreaching and thorny blackberry bushes.  They love to cling and tear at dhotis, our lower robes.

There are two road intersections to this track.  That’s also fine.  You look both ways before crossing.  The soul is directing or rather the super-soul is impelling.  Life is precious.  Death (by car) is superficial.  “You are eternal,” is the message.

Walk number two was the grand procession from Granville Bridge to 2nd Beach at Stanley Park.  The city gives us two lanes in which to crowd ourselves along the way.  The obstructions and clearances are the devotees themselves.  Yes, while the kirtan—chanting and drumming—carries on happily, you step on each other’s feet most likely.  At the same time, it is those same steppers—who nearly yank off a shoe—that are your well-meaning friends.

You can’t live without comrades, after all.  My simple observation at Stanley, after the procession, was seeing the occasional lonely person stand and stare at the fun.  Sadly, they have no friends.

May the Source be with you!

6 km



Saturday, August 20th, 2016

Saturday, August 20th, 2016
Surrey, British Columbia

The Real Meet

It was advertised that The Walking Monk was to be at Zaklan Heritage Farm in Surrey at 13278 84th Ave.  It was a “meet and greet” between Noon and 2pm.

That was flattering, and I thank Lynne Murray for the promotion; but from my side, I would like to put a different spin on this charmer of an event.

I would say, “Meet and greet the plums and the grapes, the tomatoes (green-housed for starters), kale, chard, peppers, beets, corn. Be sensationalized by the colours, scents and tastes that are growing naturally.”  I mentioned only a few from the list of organic splendours on this ten acre wonder in the centre of urban, sprawling Surrey.

It was awesome meeting Douglas, who took a group of us around for a tour.  Chickens were fabulously fenced in, but by a fence that you could un-stake, shift over, and allow the hens to achieve fresher grass, and in return, some nitrogen from their manure is produced.

Douglas lives on the property.  He built a house that can also be shifted.  That’s nifty!

I always believed that a garden gives gold—produce you can eat.  The metal gold—you cannot.  Good food is the real gold.

As we left the good company of Doug and those inclined toward good food, and perhaps a different kind of monk who likes to make a “green statement” through walking, Doug prepared a bag of his best harvest for us.  It reminds me of something our guru, Srila Prabhupada, said, “When you give something from the garden that is real love.”

Thanks Doug!  Thanks Arlen!

May the source be with you!



Friday, August 19th, 2016

Friday, August 19th, 2016
Burnaby, B.C.

Victor and I

Victor and I took a stroll near the ashram where Chinese and Punjabi farmers utilize every square inch of deep, dark, rich soil for produce.  We had just passed the garden centre, “It’s About Thyme,” when we heard the squeaking wheels of a grocery cart behind us.

Before turning around to confirm my guess, I thought, “Here comes a homeless person with his gathered wares.  Most likely he or she has a set-up called home, somewhere tucked in the bushes.”  Lo and behold it was a lost soul of sorts—a he—and he started talking.

“Are you guys Roman Catholic Priests?”

That was a first for that question.  At least, I’m often mistaken for a Buddhist, while fair-skinned Victor could be confused for a Muslim, with his white garb.  It goes to show that in our society of pluralistic faiths, not everyone sees the distinctions.

Our newly-made friend, John, looked in fairly-good physical shape, but you wonder how long before the elements or ‘habits made’ will wear him down.  I’m usually hit by compassion for people like John.  He probably could do better. Society likely has pushed him to the edge.  I do admire the simple life he’s chosen.

In the afternoon, Arlen came to pick me up for a talk at the Ram Mandir.  The topic was more exclusively “Tales from Wonderful Trails.”  I inserted Bhagavat philosophy and it was well received by all.

May the Source be with you!

6 km



Thursday, August 18th, 2016

Thursday, August 18th, 2016
Surrey, British Columbia

On Joy TV

I was at the Toronto Airport in anticipation of securing my boarding pass at the machine.  I was just waiting for the person in front of me to complete their pressing the screen, so I could move forward, when an airport attendant, an Afro-woman, approached me to help expedite the process.  She smiled and stretched out her arm as if to ask for my hard copy details for the flight to Vancouver.  I handed them over.

“Where to?” she asked, her admirable braided hair tied behind her, and glasses gracing her face.

“Vancouver!”

She pressed along and asked something unusual.

“What sampradaya?”

Sampradaya means lineage in terms of spiritual tradition.

To her question, I replied, “The Brahma-Madhava-Gaudiya-Hare-Krishna sampradaya.”  I elongated the name with “Hare Krishna” as that is more identifiable for the public.  “And you?”  I asked.

“I’m with the Sri sampradaya.”  This I found most interesting.  Time didn’t allow for more discussion.  I was happy to share sacred words with another person.

After landing and having a decent sleep, I was driven to Surrey where the “Joy TV” studio is located.  Harpreet Singh, a member of the Sikh tradition, hosts the show.  Our topic was happiness.  “Despite technological advancement, we find a world which is wrought with people of unsettling mind.  Therefore inner joy is to be sought.  Outer joy is temporal.”

I also was able to highlight ‘pilgrimage’ and its benefits.

May the Source be with you!

5 km



Wednesday, August 17th, 2016

Wednesday, August 17th, 2016
Toronto, Ontario

I Want to Give

I pondered the activities of the few days since I’ve come back from the U.S. walk.  I looked at the catching-up that had to be done.  I followed the program which begins at 4 a.m. in the ashram and appreciated the great privilege that it is.  I answered phone calls, tended to e-mails, Instagram, etc. and  planned a drama for next week’s major fest, Krishna’s Birthday.  I sat in a meeting for brain-storming, did some counselling, pep talks, and delivered classes.

What was missing?  What was not included in the life of a responsible Krishna monk?

“Of course!”  I thought.  An idea popped into the head.  “Hari Nama is what is amiss!!”

“Hari Nama” is the short term for public chanting.  It was an easy sell for the few ashram residents around.  It appears it is not on the regular schedule for some reason or another.

Our small group of six meandered through the Annex neighbourhood, headed for destination Bloor Street, a block from the Bata Shoe Museum.  A patch of grass that forms a serene parkette became our asana (seat).  Once we got to drumming and chanting, we realized what had been vacant from our daily regimen.  It is this sharing of sacred sound that gives us life.

Not so long ago my Irish friend, Pragosh, told me about one of his favourite songs by Neil Young, born in this grand town, Toronto. “Heart of Gold.”  Interpret the lyrics as you like.  The song begins with, “ I want to live/I want to give.”

May the Source be with you!

5 km



Tuesday, August 16th, 2016

Tuesday, August 16th, 2016
Toronto, Ontario

Night Nectar

There appears to be a more leisurely mood amongst people in the evening.  Philosophy, in its most fundamental form, can be somewhat more digestible before one retires for the night.  The following is what I encountered during my trek after sundown.

At Davenport and Bay, two young women came up to me and asked, “Can you tell me something?”

“Yes!  We are not these bodies.  We are spirits.”

At that point, a cab-driver whom I know, Uttamananda—my support person for May & June—honked his horn behind me to get my attention.  I was happy to see him.  I had a quick exchange and pulled back to give attention to the girls.

“So, that cab driver is the superior intelligence, the spirit.  The cab is a machine, the body.  The driver and that which he drives have to be differentiated.  You are the spirit, and the body is what you are driving.”  They expressed their thanks.

I moved on to amble by Bloor Street.

“Hi!” said the young fellow, “I’m Mathew. I’m an undertaker.  I meet people from different spiritual paths all the time.  When the bodies come to me, they are all the same.”  He and I had more to say.  It was profound.

Further west on Bloor, and another fellow began speaking, which encouraged me to stop walking.

“I read a book on Buddha.  It was deep.”

“Actually I’m a Hare Krishna monk,” I clarified. “We believe the body is different from the self.  You are a spirit, a power house.”

The fellow listened.  He called his buddy.

“Hey, listen to what the monk is saying.”  So I repeated my words.  The friend pulled off his hat, stroked his hair with his hand as if to digest my words.  I left them with that.

May the Source be with you!

6 km


Monday, August 15th, 2016

Monday, August 15th, 2016
Surrey, British Colombia

The Walking Monk in Surrey with Tales from Cross-Canada Trails

I was slightly confused as to identifying which place to put at the top of the blog.  The origin of the article below, by Tom Zillich, comes as a pleasant surprise.  It’s Surrey, British Columbia, and it’s a buzz about the U.S. walk from the Surrey “Now” newspaper:

The last place you’d expect to find a guy nicknamed “The Walking Monk” is in a car heading toward Chicago.

So apparently Bhaktimarga Swami does not walk everywhere, despite the moniker he’s earned for hoofing it across Canada an impressive four times.

The Ontario-born Swami, who finished his last such trek in 2014, is currently halfway through a similar walk across the U.S., in another effort to promote a “more car-free, carefree lifestyle.”

This week, he’ll be in Surrey to attend a pair of events, and the Now caught up with Swami – known as John Peter Vis before he adopted a monastic way of life back in 1973 – via cellphone as he motored down an interstate in Illinois earlier this week.

“Yesterday was a momentous day where I stopped at the midway point in America, in Nebraska, and now I’m making a return journey back to Toronto, ultimately, my home place,” Swami explained in an interview on Monday (Aug. 8).

“It’s a pleasant day and we’ve had a great trip so far doing half of the U.S. The whole idea is to reconvene next spring and do the second half, the western part, heading west.”

Two decades ago, in 1996, Swami set out on his first cross-Canada walk as something of a 100th-birthday tribute to a mentor of his. Putting his “feet and heart together” that year, he started in Victoria and made it all the way to Cape Spear, Newfoundland, with many stories to tell.

“I’d always wanted to see Canada closeup,” he recalled, “because before I was a monk I hitchhiked or flew and took buses, things like that, but I wanted to see it the way it was done by the ancients, you know, the way you should do it, especially because it’s a kind of birthright for a monastic person to do this kind of thing.”

He enjoyed the “CanWalk” experience enough to complete three more cross-country journeys in years since.

“I went through a lot of pain, physical,” Swami admitted. “The biggest challenge of all is walking on an angle – it’s like walking on a beach. But nevertheless, everything else compensated for that (pain), including meeting fantastic people, meeting characters, being confronted by black bears, grizzlies, whatnot, and finally I became an addict; I like it, gotta do it again.”

His first coast-to-coast walk was documented in “The Longest Road,” a 2003 National Film Board of Canada movie about the Trans-Canada Highway.

While in the U.S. recently, a spell of hot weather prompted Swami, 64, to experiment with nighttime walking, starting at 9 p.m. and ending at 3:30 a.m.

“It was quite nice (in Omaha and other parts of Nebraska), you know, as long as you had a safe area to walk through, on trails, basically,” he said. “You’re not allowed to walk on the freeways, so the choices in America are a secondary highway or a back road.”

In Surrey this week, Swami will make an appearance at Ram Mandir (8473 124th St.) on Friday evening, Aug. 19, and is also scheduled to visit the market at Newton’s Zaklan Heritage Farm on Saturday, Aug. 20, from noon to 2 p.m.

Across Canada these days, he shares his “Tales from the Trails” at community centres, yoga studios, libraries, schools and other places.

“It’s always an adventure and you don’t know what you’re going to deal with on the day ahead,” Swami related.

“What happens when you’re walking is you start to appreciate the little things around you and everything becomes significant,” he added. “Those of us who are obsessed with the fast pace of life, we just don’t even know what’s in our midst. By walking, you pick up on fantastic details out there.”

In one photo of Swami, the Now noticed he wore a pair of Croc sandals, and asked about a possible endorsement deal from the footwear company.

“There was something happening there with Crocs, yes, on my third walk across Canada,” Swami elaborated. “They sent me a pair, and that was the best I could do,” he added with a laugh. “I found other footwear, though, that was superior, but I do resort to my Crocs once in a while just because they’re pretty lightweight.”


May the Source be with you!

5 km



Tuesday, 23 August 2016

Sunday, August 14th, 2016

Sunday, August 14th, 2016
Toronto, Ontario

Those Who Came Forward

I’m back in my home-base, but still keeping up my daily walking, while fingering through my beads numbering 108, and moving my upper and lower lips--as well as my tongue--to utter the name of Krishna.  Whenever I travel, these mechanical, mental and spiritual outputs are there.

I re-connected with Yonge St., the strip from Bloor to Dundas, known for its characters.

Near Dundas, a Caucasian young person, with hair pulled back to form a bun, came up to me and began talking in a rather incoherent way.

“Are you on drugs?”  I asked him.  Indeed he was, as he expressed so in a non-confessional way.  For him, that’s his life.  I mentioned to him to do himself a favour and pull out of it.  “Then life can begin.”

Our conversation got cut short when another fellow, this time an Indian--who was obviously also ‘on something’--addressed me with, “Hare Krishna!”  He said it several times and continued with words that made no sense.  Still, he was zealous and maintained a smile for the reason, I guess, that he’s talking to a sadhu, of sorts.  I indicated that I had to proceed, although I perceived he was liking the attention.

A young Black chap then came to stand in front of me, and in a facetious way, bowed at the waist respectfully, demonstrating some kind of reverence.  I took the gesture to not be coming from the heart, so I didn’t take him too seriously.

As I said, “Characters!”  But I wouldn’t put them down entirely.  They were the ones who came forward, out of all the pedestrians on Yonge St.

May the Source be with you!

5 km

Saturday, August 13th, 2016

Saturday, August 13th, 2016
Pelee Island, Ontario

Ways of Nature

It is astounding to see the ways of nature.

Yesterday, we witnessed an entity in the form of a catfish exiting the water.  This morning, the reverse occurred.  It was not a catfish, but rather a large black water snake who slithered from the trees in front of us, moved over the sand, and slipped into the shallow shore waters of Lake Erie.  It then disappeared into the depths of the fresh water.

We were also terribly humbled by biting stable-flies.  Nature came on then with another of her forces.  After a dry spell, running a month in duration, a near-drought in Ontario, Ohio, and the surrounding vicinity, was dispelled.  Rains and rainbows made their visitations.  On our return journey to Toronto, I delighted in reading from “Memories,” recollections from devotees about our dear guru, Srila Prabhupada, as those welcoming rains came down with a passion.

Every journey, especially an auto-driven one, needs its breaks.  I suggested to our crew, “Let’s check out one of my favorite locations on the planet—Uncle Tom’s Cabin.”  With me were Nimai-Nitai, originally from India, Elona from Latvia, and Katrina from Russia.  They were not aware of the historical significance of this place.

As a person on foot--or one who most often likes to be--I have the opportunity to learn of past tragedies and victories.  Historical plaques and places are everywhere.  Check out the Underground Railway, Josiah Henson, and Uncle Tom’s Cabin.

May the Source be with you!

5 km



Friday, August 12th, 2016

Friday, August 12th, 2016
Pelee Island, Ontario

Driven!

He had whiskers and was no more than a foot in length.  He was tanned and wiggling his way along, moving by will and not wave.  It was time for him to go.  Providence had told him so.  He had had the lake as his habitat for ‘who knows how long’ and now he was beach-bound. 

A group of us, in retreat on the island’s east-side, were ready to indulge in prasadam, a sacred picnic, when we saw this catfish coming our way.  At first glance, I thought “Is he hungry?” as he ignored the kids a-splash all around him, and ‘ bee-lined’ his way to dry sand.

He was determined to hit air, to lie on that sand, die, and hence--end a cycle.  The water kept pulling him in, in small lapping waves, but he fought to remove himself from the H2O, and succeeded.  He keeled over and did what I’ve seen massive carps do when they’re aged.  They exit from the water and camp at the beach, passing away in seconds or maybe minutes.  For this catfish, it was about two minutes.

What’s next for him?  A new body awaiting his spirit?

He was pulled by nature, and behind that, a divine power.  Perhaps it was the same power which compelled those people coming from the winery, to dance with us at our dusk kirtan.  We wrapped up the day by the dock with not a swim, but with receiving a wondrous wind while I led that timeless mantra and produced a tal on the drum.

I was surprised at the zealousness shown by the folks who sang and danced.  But then after their sips and swigs of grape-juice-gone-WOW, it’s understandable.  We devotees from Ohio, Michigan and Ontario, were inspired to see the full-on participation.

Everyone, everything, is driven by divine force.

May the Source be with you!

1 km