Wednesday, May 2nd, 2012

Gifts From Cleveland

 

Cleveland, Ohio

 

It's day number two for me here in the city of Cleveland. The place boasts having the Rock N' Roll hall of fame, attracting tourists from all over. But for me being a monk and a walker, I'll take exploring a new trail any day. In any event, the offer was on, "I'll take you where you want to go," was Jatayu's offer.

 

So he and I and the couple Kaustubha and Tiffany took off for Fort Hill by Rocky River.  With the hot weather at 80 degrees Fahrenheit, many folks were out in the cool ravines walking or running. We were taken by the skunk cabbage (nasty smelling stuff) while three young men who were so very obviously under the influence of something else green, asked us, "So what's goin' on?"

 

What did go on minutes later was the Wednesday night gathering at Dayal and Tanya's home, which is a weekly stimulator for the spiritually sincere. I was really impressed by the quality of questions asked. After my delivery of words based on the Gita's verse 5.2 emphasising action in devotion over action in ambition. A grainless ekadasi feast followed. Everyone seemed happy in the spiritual company of each other.

 

A great America Krishna saint, Jayananda, was born in Ohio and raised in Cleveland as a child. Had we known the actual location of his home at the time of choice, we would have driven there with Jatayu as the driver. Jayananda's claim to fame was his skilled and genuine ability to interact with everyone he met, in a personal, selfless and human way. He was so much loved and appreciated in the early pioneer days of a surging spiritual movement.

 

I feel fortunate to be in 'his town', and especially with the coming of his passing in 1977, 2 days from now. Jayananda died from leukemia, but lived with Krishna on his mind.

10 Km

Tuesday, May 1st, 2012

Of Death and Life

 

Cleveland, Ohio

Cleveland is one of those Great Lake cities not far from Toronto. It was a quick flight there. To pick me up at the airport was Jatayu, 59, with a birthday two weeks after mine. The prearranged driver, my dear friend, Akilananda, couldn't make it. His mother passed away at noon today. Bless her soul. She was 98.

Jatayu and I talked about our age, and how the machinery gradually becomes like a slug before it ceases to be. We both realized that our moment would come somewhere down the road. On the flight over I read an article about death by Douglass Cornish, "The thing about death is that it so often comes unannounced. One minute you're grocery shopping, the next you're hit by a bus. Someone once told me about their grandfather who went to the bank one morning, took out some money and had a heart attack on the step on his way out. It's true, you can't take it with you."

 

Before you know it, Jatayu and I had found our way to Fort Hill, a lovely place, typical of Ohio Valley topography, and vegetation at Rocky River. We were bent on putting in some walking before settling in for the night. There we were, dwarfed by jolly green giants of oak, sycamore, cedar, maple and more. Some of these trees were made to be humbled; who had a fall once their souls left them. Death and life is very apparent, even of herbs and giants.

We met James and Cassie on the trail, inquisitive they were. They were asking about our dress and how to address. "Hare Krishna" I offered. The couple who were young adults, appeared so much alive, especially when we talked to them about our lifestyle.

 

Interesting in this forest were the remains of a past ceremonial grounds by natives of 1000 years before. They had constructed on top of a hill these mounds that resembled a kind of earth rib cage, parallel ridges in the ground. A fossil of a dunkleosteus, a massive fish of 16 - 20 feet in length, that had razor sharp teeth to feast on sharks, is featured at the native center. There was a time when the Ohio area was an ocean bed, but that is no more, nor is the dunk or sharks. They have all perished. I certainly get a charge out of these green trails as they reveal what's really going on in life, with its appearances and disappearances. All things must pass.

7 Km

Monday, April 30th, 2012

My Name Is Cedric

 

Toronto, Ontario

I disembarked the VIA Rail train from Ottawa at Union Station (I don't mind the iron horse). From there I rolled my travel light luggage north on Yonge taking advantage of this time to walk before a rain shower was to come. Clouds were warning.

 

You first feel the stiff corporate buzz with men and women going here and there to fit in a box. At Dundas and Yonge there was a fellow on a loud speaker pushing the Jesus talk and as I passed by I was announced as a condemned follower of a false god. As I moved on with less intensity of people the mood was sweeter. It's remarkable to get even a nod on Monday morning but it came. Six kilometres later and I climbed up the stairs to my home, the ashram to be greeted by another letter from a student. This I want to share. It is heart warming.

 

"My name is Cedric from Judy Vella's class. I was the one that was ungracefully sprawled out and that asked about your shoes. I'll be honest with you, I didn't know what to expect from you when I heard you were visiting our school. Obviously I was surprised you were white, however, I assume you get that a lot. Also, you had quite a tropical tan, but that is irrelevant. I was nervous to meet you because I was convinced that you would be some stoic, silent figure. I didn't want to do anything wrong and embarrass Ms. Vella. Also, that would have been relatively boring. However, that was not the case. I don't know if it was the fact you were Canadian, but you turned out to be a pretty normal guy. Or at least my definition of normal. Bhaktimarga Swami, you were a hilarious guy. I bid you good luck with the rest of your life and hope that you will return to Notre Dame to entertain a new generation of students and share the gift you shared with us."

 

My remark here is, "Thanks, Cedric, but I can't take much credit. I chanced to meet some monks years ago. They changed my life and introduced me to a very special person, my guru, Srila Prabhupada. He's the reason I am able to do something."

 

6 Km

Sunday, April 29th, 2012

The Genre Was Different

Ottawa, Ontario

Grim looks turned into smiles. A homeless, bench-lying fellow's eyebrows danced to the beat. Then grass-lying sun-loving youths turned their bodies over and goose-necked in our direction followed by hand waves. Oh, and admirers outstretched their hands for an old fashioned hand shake as we passed by on the street. I gestured to one dude to pull off his iPod earplugs and pointed to the drum and accordion's sweet sound. He did and he indicated that he liked it.

 

On Rideau St. our chanting party did go - and Sussex Drive, in front of the nation's Parliament Buildings. We looped around in procession style to the posh Chateau Laurier, one hundred years old this year. A century passed. Imagine, you could get a room for $2 a night in 1912. We passed by a banner which read War of 1812 with a superimposed image of Laura Secord whose famous line "The Americans Are Coming!" alerted the British. Her eyes appeared to follow us.

 

We harmonized our kirtan along the Rideau Canal. The sun shone, so did the mantra, so did we (the chanters), so did they - the tourists and locals. The spirit and response from all who stumbled upon us was, "Well done, well done!"

 

Although hearts were charmed and the sound was sweet, I can say that the sound was not as perfect as the chorus of coyotes I chanced to hear on the early rising trail near Russell at 6 AM. Those guys had their howls down perfect. It was in salutation to the sun and the uniform quality was impeccable - four or five of them together I'd say. They were worshipping as we were. Call the sun an aspect of God if you will, they were reverential and giving glory. Just that the genre was different.

 

13 Km

Saturday, April 28th, 2012

He Works Really Hard
Russell, Ontario

He works really hard, but not his leg muscles. Kacper owns and runs the Russell Music Academy which has two locations and it is a business that is growing. He puts a lot of time into this fairly new enterprise. It involves a lot of teaching, travelling, texting, phoning, and emailing. Currently his career is doing little for his physical well being.

He is kind to take time out to arrange my train trip to Ottawa, drive me to the bedroom community of Russell, and then join me on a mere 7 Km trail near his home. Despite his youthful age of 27, his calf muscles started to ache midway through our walk.

“Man, you’re out of shape,” I told him. “I know,” he said embarrassingly.

Anyways, together with a 21 year old by the name of Krishna, we did roam. The sun was over us and so were the woodpeckers who were tapping on dead trees something fierce. We made so many observations of nature on that trail. Kacper observed a strain on the legs which only he could understand. But our guru, Srila Prabhupada, explained that one can only know one’s own pains and pleasures, and not know the pains and pleasures of anyone else. It is only God in the heart, Supersoul, who can feel it for everyone. Hearts are everywhere, and hence, God as Supersoul is everywhere. This all pervasiveness of His presence is something we were trying to perceive or at least appreciate while trekking.

The evening opened itself to more stretching of the legs, but of a slightly different kind. Kacper, Krishna, and I made it to Ideal Village Co-Op’s Community Centre where we danced and chanted with 20 people. We were immersed in mantra power, and to put in layman’s terms, we had a blast. We took the last few minutes to reflect and memorize the Gita verse, 6.25, which can be interpreted to refer to walking. Here it is:

Gradually, step by step, one should become situated in trance by means of intelligence, sustained by full conviction, and thus the mind should be fixed on the self alone and should think of nothing else.

7 Km

Friday, April 27th, 2012

I Have Impressions

Toronto, Ontario

I have some impressions of this morning’s walk with a phys-ed guru and her aging dog, a business man and a young woman from way north, Sioux Lookout. Well, we were shaking our heads in disbelief over the weather these days. It was one degree Celsius when we opened the door to hit the air. Temperatures are a game of a vertical yoyo these days.

We were alarmed by the number of notice boards of condos going up in our neighbourhood. I thought, an infringement on the sky. Why, oh why can’t structures remain a height below the tree tops?

A new streetlight was given a home on Yonge where there was no home. At least this facility provides safety for us pedestrians, where it was not before. This became a positive thought.

Pedestrians were eyeing us with a curious glance. We were an interesting small procession, devotionally garbed, and with a hefty pushy black dog. The meager public at this hour, 5:30 AM, had not seen this about us before. Yes, we like animals.

Back to the temple and back to a beautiful completion of the morning sadhana, spiritual workout. The phys-ed guru left for her home to tend to family, the business man left within minutes to go to his business. The Sioux Lookout girl, the northern Canada small town girl, and who lives in the ladies ashram section, sat reverentially before the deity of Krishna, and I sang with devotees, and then lapped up with my ears the message from the speaker of today’s Bhagavatam verse. The day then followed with dealings full of devotion and people. Fairly hectic.

A hightlight of the day came from the words of a friend. He mentioned about impressions he had on a recent visit. His host had a monitor in his apartment, which said “Hello, I’m God, I’m in charge, you can relax today.”

10 Km

Thursday, April 26th, 2012

A Letter

Toronto, Ontario

Like last year the response from Notre Dame Secondary School was phenomenal. This time around I again received a wave of thank you messages. Here's one to read. It's from Kimberly, one of the students there:

Hello Bhaktimarga Swami,

I was at the presentation you gave at Notre Dame on Tuesday and I want to thank you for coming. Not only your presence but your great personality and outlook on life inspires me. Before you came, I did not understand the life of a monk and what they do. I thought they had little fun and were limited to doing many things. After you presentation I have learned that the life of a monk is not limited and does have fun aspects. You were able to put a smile on my face while dancing and enjoying the mantra. The next morning I found myself singing it. Thank you for taking your own time to enlighten us on Hare Krishna faith. When you asked, "who are you?" I thought so hard to answer the question. Even though I was not one of the people to answer aloud this stood out to me the most.

Understanding that we are our 'soul' or 'atman' connected with me. I want to be the best person I can be. You're presentation has reminded me to make sure I do everything I can to fufill my dreams and always help others. I hope your walk across Canada brings you happiness and I hope I will have the oppurtunity one day to do something as courageous as this.
Thank you for making my day.

Thanks Kimberly!

6 Km

Wednesday, April 25th, 2012

Money Seekers

Brampton, Ontario

Today Lakshman, who has been conducting walks for six years in the sacred grounds of Vrindavan, India, delivered the morning talk about saint Madhavendra Puri. Madhavendra did extensive travel himself, as a tradition for pilgrims. In Lakshman's explanation we heard how Madhavendra had so many epiphanies in his life- dreams and miracles of deity communication which appeared to follow him. These interactions with Krishna as a deity sent him into ecstasies.

Those of us who sat in the temple room's corner to hear the narrations felt a yearning for this kind of experiential joy. Just by listening to the journeys of the lives of such elevated persons one establishes a type of sraddha, a supportive belief in the sublime. If only the world could indulge in hearing such pastimes in place of or in addition to the mundane news of constant repetition, it would definitely stir up sentiments of the spirit. It leads the listener to a greater depth in life.

To fast-forward I was sitting patiently later in the day a good 30 kilometres away waiting to be called at the dental clinic in Brampton, one client was making his exit when he glanced over to notice the robes. He was a curious Canadian who just perked up, came to my seat to introduce himself. We talked about a level much beyond teeth cleaning. At about 55 years of age he still manifested a boyish wonder- in this case about spiritual life. I hope and pray he will consider spiritual life an option.

My thoughts dwelt on the fact that there are millions like him that hold an intrigue for the spiritual component of life. There are many seekers.

9 Km

The students

Tuesday, April 24th, 2012

Students and the Park

 

Terra Cotta, Ontario

 

I asked Yogendra to drop me off at the entrance of Cedarbrae Park in order to get some trekking in. We had spent some hours today at Notre Dame Secondary School, then followed the teacher who invited us to her home for a terrific dinner. Judy is her name. She, her husband, Bob, and two daughters hosted us. What an absolutely fantastic family! I would say they are brahmins, by nature, satvic, or very much in the mode of goodness.

 

While taking to that trail in Cedarbrae I was meditating on the fine response from the students at Notre Dame. My presentation along with Yogendra and Laksman, who is visiting from Vrindavan, India, and who conducts pilgrimage walks in that area, was held in the school chapel. The questions asked by students were not highly philosophical yet they were deep. Their questions were centered around themselves. They surely pictured themselves being in the shoes of a monk, imagining what it is like to live as we do and also what it would mean to walk across the country.

 

The questions were, "How old were you when you became a monk?" "At what age can you live in the ashram?" "How many pairs of shoes does it take to walk across Canada?" What also came up was, "Do you guys fast?" The school here conducts a 28 hour fast annually when students have a sleepover at the temple, that's what motivated the question.

 

The students took well to chanting and when it came to the dancing, I just hand picked two black dudes from the group to set the tone for moving. They always have the best rhythm. 

 

"What a jolly good day it was," I thought while trudging through the water drenched trail, a result of run-off. Come to think of it, all days in Krishna Consciousness are truly like this.

7 Km

Monday, April 23rd, 2012

From Rot to Goodness

 

Toronto, Ontario

This morning was my return to central Canada after a nine day trip to the country's mid-west, the prairies. What I noticed in the four cities where I visited in Edmonton, Calgary, Saskatoon and Regina was a substantial increase in attendance to devotional programs. This is a good sign that rivals tendencies in this spiritually slow age of Kali. The inclination is to gravitate to the more lowly options.

 

Kali is defined as "dark". Sometimes the age of Kali is referred to as the age of iron. It indicates that it is a time when inferior activity takes prime position.

 

On my flight on Air Canada I decided to educate myself on one of America's idolized Kali yuga (age) characters. Having completed my chanting of a prescribed sixteen rounds, I thought to learn from a documentary on what all the fuss was about in regards to an apparent hero. In the 1800's there were a number of American Robin Hoods, underdogs and rebels. There were characters like Billy the Kid, Wyatt Erp, Jesse James. There were others I'm sure that I'm not aware of. When I was young these names used to come up. I knew little about them.

 

I looked for an hour at the life of Jesse James. My comment, "What a Kali-yuga man!" Here was a real cold blooded murderer who somehow received the attention he wanted. Terrorism can make a person famous. He succeeded. I guess there is merit in studying the psyche of a criminal to understand them, how they got to be what they are and how their childhood was moulded and/or twisted. It just convinces me more and more how important good training, suitable engagement and how a lot of love can spare someone from falling into the crevices of Kali-yuga madness.

 

The most compelling stories (I'm sure you'll agree) have to deal with how a person went from being rotten to being a saint, or at least being good.

 

0 Km

Saturday, April 14th, 2012

SNOW and OIL

Edmonton, Alberta

"Woe is me!"

I thought winter was behind us. So did Albertans, but no - snow came as a surprise. Spring had sprung, but 'surprise'. We got a blast of the white stuff and it came down (or sideways really) for hours.

 

Devotees of Krishna in Edmonton had planned an outdoor kirtan chanting session. The elements imposed another plan. It curbed my anticipated trek somewhere on a trail in the suburbs. It's good I managed about 3 kilometres back and forth on the balcony of the Toronto temple before embarking on the flight here. You take what you can get.

 

We did manage to have an indoor session with a group of bright kids, average 8 or 9 at the home of a south Indian couple, Srinivasan and Sarada. Hey, these kids lit up to a reading of a Krishna story. They didn't have Robin Williams entertain them but they had a swami who did his best to keep them excited. I think we broke ice with them. And parents who accompanied them sitting right there were pleased and smiled all the while.

 

"Feedback," I requested at the end.

 

The answer came from them, the parents. "They (the students) stayed alert and they learned something."

 

"Feedback," I demanded from the kids. One boy remarked that he liked the part where we read about the ocean of oil. "Of course," I responded, "you're from Alberta. You're swimming in it all the time."

 

Time allowed a visit to the temple. There we chanted at the arati ceremony. Few folks were there as weather really intimidated people for braving the roads. After the chant, attendees wanted to know about my recent trip to south Africa, so I filled them in on the good organization of the Ratha Yatra festival there and on the growth of a spiritual following in Durban.

 

Before bed, I had a small meal. "Is this prasadam (blessed food)?" I asked the hosts.

"Oh, yes, I offer my food to Krishna always," said Sarada.

"Great!"

 

3 Km