Author Archives: H.H. Bhaktimarg Swami

Sunday, August 27th, 2017
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Rawhide, Nevada
If You’re Driving…

If you are driving at night in Nevada, you could run into a cow or a bull.  Yes, some of the areas are open range for beef cattle.  They have the right of way.  No problem if you’re walking.  A pedestrian is never fast enough to accidentally collide with one of those bovines.

More than one sweet person on their way to “Burning Man” stopped.  A woman parked her car at the side of the road, laid out her yoga mat and placed coconut water, sugar snap peas, trail mix and a banana onto it, leaving space for me to sit.  She was in the lotus position also on the mat.  Conveniently, she took advantage of the partial shade her hitched bicycle provided.

I told her I couldn’t sit.  “It might be hard to get up again.  I’ve been walking since New York—which is where she is from.  Promoting walking—meditative walking—is my objective.  Our lives are imbalanced…”

“Our country could use that right now,” she said of the U.S.  I inherited the goods on the mat and gave her my best thanks.

Rolin also pulled over.  “Are you developing your personal relationship with God?” I asked him, since last night, outside a bar, he had preached his point.  He’d had a few beers.  So well intentioned he was.  Now I’m facetiously getting back at him.  He took it well.

I also met Italians, two younger men driving through, who stopped to talk.  There were others who handed me much needed water.  That is saving me and also the umbrella.

I must also mention that to our great satisfaction Annaiudyangi aka Annabella, came to greet our party with her great grandchildren, Tommy and Serenity.

The only cool place for the lunch she brought—a picnic—was in a tunnel, six feet high, under the highway.  The lizards who call it home didn’t take too kindly to our presence.  “Hey bro, let’s share space, man.”

May the Source be with you!

22 miles

Saturday, August 26th, 2017
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Cold Springs, Nevada
With the Highway People

As usual, stars greet me in the morning, some of which make that dive.  Owls hoot.  Bats fly past.  The air is warm, then cool.  A diversity of currents come at you.  Then the sun rises and everything changes.  The night life for the animals comes to an end and everything is relatively quiet, except for man.

The traffic of vacationers begins.  For me some attention comes.  People wave, honk or stop.  Over pulls a young woman from Oklahoma.  She walks with me a bit.  A vehicle from New York with two couples comes to a halt.  “Can we help?”

“Just walking—across the U.S.”

A local rancher, with some young men, asked Marshall, who’s coming my way,  if all is okay.

“So you’re just going for a walk?” https://youtu.be/7qaYi6KuHhc

“I’m supporting the monk,” says Marshall.

“Monk!?” mentioned the fellow, as if there’s a Martian in town.

We came upon the Pony Express station and the remains of a Long Range Station.  The Shoshone tribe camped in these areas in winter.  You get this rich history here.  The train and the Lincoln Highway changed modes of travel forever.  Devon—whom we met up with again—and I, are cross-nation walkers who defy, in a way, these alternative modes of travel, merely by our constant stepping on the soil.

In Austen, the Nevada branch of the Lincoln Highway association met at Leland House and we were invited.  After all Hwy 50 and the historic Lincoln Hwy merge here.  Bob, the mayor, played sax.  We were in good hands.  Nice people.  My purpose is to do just that—to meet and mingle and let them know that Krishna is cool.

May the Source be with you!

20 miles

Editor’s note: For a visual and informative history of the area, check out this series of YouTube videos.

Friday, August 25th, 2017
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Near salt flats of Austin, Nevada
Life is Precarious

Curtis had left us two days ago, back to Canada.  He expressed before leaving that he learned much from his stay with us.  We will miss him and wish him a safe journey as he hitch-hikes to British Columbia.

As one person goes, another seems to enter the door.  Mark, from Austin, is a thirty-four year old who’s gone through a lot, including alcoholism.  He joined us for my last six miles of the day.  In our discussion with him, we concluded that life’s traumas can be responded to by one of two ways—the way of darkness and self-deception, or the way of spirituality.  One leads to a tunnel of compounding difficulties; the other to freedom.

Mark, Marshall, Hayagriva and I very much relished the last two hours, however, our return ride back to our satellite, Lincoln Motel, meant death for several entities.  Rabbits in particular were creamed under our tires.  It seems that life is very vibrant at nightfall.  A young fox became confused by our headlights while he was hunting.  He wouldn’t leave the road and scurried about here and there on the asphalt.  Finally, he left our radar and fled.  An owl also swooped down in front of our vehicle, “The Jaladhuta Express.”  Minutes later a young bobcat ran in front of us, escaping death from our wheels.

Whether human or animal, life totters from safety to threats.  To Mark, I suggested he work on a freedom program.  “Be determined to be clean.”

May the Source be with you!

20 miles

Thursday, August 24th, 2017
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Austin, Nevada
Not Austin Texas

The sign hung from a bar on two metal legs and read “Road Closed.”  Marshall and I felt it didn’t apply to pedestrians so we forged ahead on their rather walkable road.  Two miles down, we met some of the workmen on the road.  One of the construction crew held up the reversible stop/slow sign.  Really, there was no traffic but us, two foot travellers.  Still, Jerry, whom we had come to know, held up the side that says, “Slow!”

“How slow should we go?” I asked him.  “We’re only doing three miles an hour.”  It was a light point in his day.  He talked about standing there for many hours and admiring the fact that we walk.  He also liked our cause which is all about slowing down, or cutting down on what we call raja-guna.  We made friends.

I also took the opportunity to carry the Gita with me for a memorization exercise.  From Chapter 7, Krishna is identified as power: “I am the strength of the strong devoid of passion and desire.  I am sex which is not contrary to dharmicprinciples.”

As I was memorizing the Sanskrit of the verse, an RV pulled over with a trailer hitched to it and on the trailer was an 800 pound Buddha, 8 feet tall, and all wrapped in an orange-toned plastic.  The sculptor, Virginia, and her partner, are en route to the “Burning Man Festival” held right here in Nevada.  I thought,  I would like to go if I didn’t have to pay the astronomical fee.  There’s lots of good souls that attend events like this.  It’s going to happen near the area where I’m walking.  https://burningman.org/event/

May the Source be with you!

20 miles

Wednesday, August 23rd, 2017
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Forest Rd., Nevada
Beyond Slot Machines

Our talk at the Lions Club in Ely went well.  To get to the room for their meeting, you enter the “Jailhouse Casino” and walk past myriad slot machines.  “Yes, it’s the real thing,” I must say.

We commenced the meeting after a warm greeting from Judge Stephen Bishop who heard us chanting in the park the other day.  We pledged allegiance to the flag and then a prayer followed by one of the members with the theme “God, empower us so we can perform our service and duties well.”  A great sentiment.

From there, I spoke of our walking endeavours and how it is truly a pilgrimage, a trek with prayer and introspection.  In any event, they are such good people, and what resonated with them was a mention about “entitlement.”  There is an attitude issue amongst many.

Now, something was odd this morning when a vehicle pulled over.  He came from behind and across the lane on Hwy 50.  The driver made a full stop.  He was driving a black pick-up truck.  He held up his phone to take a camera shot.  His face was not revealed because his arms and camera blocked his face.  Maybe I was a novelty.

I said, “Good morning!”

He lowered his camera.  It was a bespectacled, cold-faced man with a grey beard.  Very dark demeanor.  He said nothing, but drove on hastily.  Mysterious!  Callous encounter!

The sheriff came.  Perhaps I was perceived as a terrorist or something.  People don’t see too many monks around here.

May the Source be with you!

22 mi


Tuesday, August 22nd, 2017
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Bobcat Ranch Rd / Nevada
Beauty and the Brawl

Curtis and I heard people shouting outside our room at the Ruby Hill Motel.  It was a commotion alright.  We opened the door to view a genuine fight—two men rolling on the grass, attempting some head and arm locks.  Some kids and adults were circled around.  Lola, the motel owner, told me later, after the break-up, that the brawl was over the custody of a child.  The biological dad was trying to take away the child when the adopted father resisted.  Lola says, “They are like family, from Mexico.”  Quite the scene!

Fortunately, the police station is across the street and some level of shanti(peace) was achieved.  The real peace is on the road, while walking.  It was a day of showers coming down in areas looking like angel hair and then evolving as if jelly fish.  Clouds rolled by and in diverse hues.  Rainbow arches appeared at varying times of the day and the sun was playing the game of hide-and-seek with those clouds.

At the Senior Centre I spoke about our purpose.  A nice place.  People were eating while I was speaking—a casual atmosphere.  We met Paul who said his dad was the producer of the iconic TV show “Let’s Make A Deal.”  All four of our team had a table to sit at with occupants.  It was just great being with these down-home people.  Of course, we had to speak a bit slower and louder than usual, considering they are seniors.

The day was magical in Eureka and beyond and every time a fresh shower would come it left an aroma of strong natural tea—emissions from the sage and rabbit brush. https://youtu.be/oek5BAmKd4w

May the Source be with you!

23 mi

Monday, August 21st, 2017
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More West of Eureka, Nevada
Back to the Desert

The boys picked me up at Arrivals in the Las Vegas Airport to proceed from the spot where I left-off last Friday.  The five hour drive was pleasant.  There are few-and-far-between towns, all of which as you enter have their welcome sign indicating the town’s elevation rather than population.  I guess the figures are too modest.

Reception is very poor.  I can’t call anyone successfully, even once I commenced walking.  That’s not unnecessarily a bad thing.  I just have to be very much in the present.

While I was still in the vicinity of Las Vegas I managed to get through to Anna, a godsister from Stagecoach, Nevada.  A funny thing she said in an opening line was, “In my neck of the woods—oops—of the desert.…”

Yes, we are in the desert.  The boys enjoyed their stay in Vegas.  No, they did not get into the slot machines.  They are monks.  They did, however, enthusiastically jump into kirtan, chanting and drumming, along with local devotees down the strip at night.  The response was phenomenal.  Of course everyone is in the party mode.

Now, back to Highway 50 and more west of Eureka—crickets are alive and well rehearsed.  I like their show.  It beats Vegas!  Also as the scene removed itself from sight, the coyotes did their routine.  It always makes my hair stand on end, especially being out here alone.

So, Bugsy Siegel, I admit your Vegas is not a thriller for me.  I prefer the desert.

May the Source be with you!

7 mi

Sunday, August 20th, 2017
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Vancouver, British Columbia
Sound in Vancouver

The maha mantra was coming through, vibrating through the air and ether at English Bay, in varying formats.  During the annual Chariot procession, Bengali drums provided the rhythm for the chant.  This is standard.

Once the procession ended, the stage program began with Mexican mariachi taking the floor, and under the sombreros the voices sang and guitars strummed to the tune of “Hare Krishna.”  And that’s not all.  Dustin Hines, an accomplished opera singer and Krishna devotee, demonstrated incredible lung power, beginning with praise to guru, Srila Prabhupada, for starters.  Then he sang out the Krishna mantra, contributing to the spiritual dimension of the atmosphere. https://www.facebook.com/madhonmohom.dailydarshan/posts/498689150481094

Finally for a second night in a row, Tatiksava Karunika—more commonly known as TK—blended the mantra through the genre of his rock band sound.  It’s good rock I must admit.  It’s a crowd pleaser.

In conclusion, there is no limit to the way transcendental sound can be invoked and shared.  “No hard and fast rule,” were the words expressed by the master of mantra, Chaitanya Mahaprabhu.  Such an approach was applied at this year’s Chariot Fest in Vancouver which honours the Lord of the Universe, Jagannatha.

My role at the event was to lead name chanting, address the crowd as special guest speaker and join my buddy, Ajamil, in singing, while arousing the crowd in dance.  Oh, and I also spent time meeting people and hear their concerns.

May the Source be with you!

7 km

Saturday, August 19th, 2017
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Vancouver, British Columbia
Flying and Feeling

At the Krishna House in Las Vegas last night, families arrived after work and our walking team sang, read, ate and discussed various things with them.  It was a sweet gathering.  We were happy to know that the community here are on their way toward building a new temple in the suburbs of the city.  I guess it is something the city could use.  Personally, I don’t know about all this gambling stuff!  I was surprised to see slot machines in the airport. http://btg.krishna.com/krishnas-new-playground

There’s got to be good souls in this place.  Sure enough, I received a call from Hayagriva, who stayed on with the boys while I went off to leave for Vancouver, and I was informed that Atri Rsi, the community co-ordinator in Vegas, arranged and paid for four new tires for our support van! Thank you Atri for your utmost kindness.  What a generous soul you have!

Meanwhile, I find myself in Vancouver where everything is gearing up for the Chariot Festival. It will be  held tomorrow with a procession and then fun at Second Beach in Stanley Park. It’s the event for summer fun in a devotional manner.  I came out to the park to meet old friends, but the big event is left for Sunday.

As I was leaving, a young woman of oriental descent came running after me with a big smile and an inquisitive heart.  Her name was Chai and she was eager just to talk and communicate.  It appeared that her spirit was reaching out, wanting to probe into life’s purpose.  I delivered what I could and left her with the opportunity to speak more tomorrow at Second Beach.

May the Source be with you!

0 mi or km

Friday, August 18, 2017
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West of Eureka, Nevada
Less Human Sightings

Curtis asked why it’s so common to see two horses, standing side-by-side, head to tail.  We see this in the countryside when we come upon a ranch—which is rare in the desert.

“From what I can see, the horses are poised to help each other by using their tails to get the flies off the other horse’s face,” I said.  “It’s a kind gesture, isn’t it?”

Curtis nodded in agreement. Yes, I’m truly gaining a greater awareness of animals. Antelope especially. And rabbits are everywhere, both dead and alive. I see, also, a more frequent appearance of scat, or dung—both fresh and dry—from coyotes. Personally, I would rather see evidence of natural death for the bunnies, over mishaps from under the wheels. For deer, I can say, without a doubt, there’s an easy two dozen bodies per day.   https://instagram.com/p/BX9OxdbF4N2/    https://instagram.com/p/BXwtRIbF1dJ/   

In Ely, our satellite station for so many days, the deer were practically walking with me on the sidewalks of the town’s tiny business district. That was before dawn, of course.

I had to come off the highway early today, for the drive to Las Vegas, where I’ll catch the Vancouver plane early tomorrow. For a break, our crew stopped by a rest area for wrap prasadam. There we saw warning signs for rattlesnakes. I took advantage of the minutes during wrap-prep to read out loud some verses of the Gita. Here’s one.

“When a sensible person ceases to see different identities, which are due to different material bodies, he/she attains to the Brahman conception. Thus he/she sees that beings are expanded everywhere.

                                                                                            Bhagavad-gita As It Is  Chapter 13, Verse 31

May the Source be with you!

14 mi


Thursday, August 17th, 2017
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Eureka, Nevada
Interactiveness

I found myself in the midst of three hundred or more motorcycles in Ely’s downtown in the morning.

“Was that you walking last night in the dark?  What were you doing?” asked one of them, referring to the trekking I did out in the desert.

I told him about pilgrimage and the value of it.  Apparently thousands of bikers are involved in a “Legacy” ride for raising money for charity.    https://www.legion.org/riders/legacyrun  I have, in fact, seen plenty of Harley Davidsons making their way down Hwy 50, but it’s not all just bikers who I come across.

A trucker halted his huge semi right on the road.  “Haribol,” said the trucker. “I know Krishna.  I’m from Poland.  I’ll give you a ride.”

I had to refuse, but delightedly, he and I both parted on good terms.  Truly, he had to move his vehicle.  Then a ranger stopped.  “Mountain lions and elk—that’s what you find out here.”  Indeed, the boys and I did see a majestic elk standing motionless next to the road.

I met a couple from Georgia.  They read about this U.S. walk that I’m doing in the Delta paper.  A fellow from Colorado offered water, and a couple from Utah also came to the shoulder of the road to share what H­­2­O they had.  Sally from the Bay area stopped to take a photograph and presented a donation.

A lot of interaction.  We are also now booked on Tuesday to speak at the Seniors Centre in Eureka, and the Justice of the Peace, Judge Stephen Bishop, has us up for a talk at the Lion’s Club in Ely for Wednesday.

This is all mercy!

May the Source be with you!

24 mi


Wednesday, August 16th, 2017
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Little Antelope Summit, Nevada
I am sharing with you all, my offering of gratitude for this year to our guru, Srila Prabhupada.
Another year has passed,
A time that leapt so fast,
When services were covered,
When masters were smothered
With love and affection
For delivery of direction.
This thread of guidance
Holds and binds us
To the feet of the Lord,
Something no one can afford
For it is priceless
Being the ultimate kindness
For lifting the soul
From a deep dark hole.
Leaving the dham behind,
A new comfort to find
It was in 1965
The ocean you did survive.
On ship, with beads n’ books.
There were stares and looks
When you landed on the shore
And made that big score
In the city of fashion
Of darkness and passion.
There was snow and cold,
But you were so bold.
There was noise and heat.
You said “no” to defeat.
The place was confused,
People being used.
You offered them freedom,
A new kind of kingdom,
Where Prime Entity rules— 
Not taught in the schools.
You went from there
To destinations everywhere
Touching a morbid heart,
Giving a boost and a start
To anyone and everyone.
Some stay, some run.
Then going beyond borders
You intro’d the four orders.
You pulled in the shakers,
You drew in the makers,
And those on merchandise,
Plus those simple wise.
You tell of two Lords,
Who sing out their chords,
Who dance with such grace
Bringing awe to one’s face.
Draped in fine folds,
In blues and in golds.
They extend their arms—
A part of their charms.
Unknown by and large
The Lords make their charge
Dispatching the name
Telling us the game
To conquer the hate,
Which makes them so great.
There’s you and the two,
On the chain of but few.
You shine in an age
When rare there’s a sage.
In a world that’s so bleak,
You stand out unique.
Keep me in the crowd
Though my faults are so loud.
I beg for the chance
To make it in your dance.
“Make me dance, make me dance
Oh my Lord, make me dance.”
Giving out so much,
It’s the hearts that you touch.
Ó  Bhaktimarga Swami Aug. 16, 2017
May the Source be with you!
21 mi

Monday, August 14th, 2017
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Ely, Nevada
Questions in Ely

Barney was his name.  I’m not sure if it was his first or his surname.  By profession he’s a police officer—one who had a lot of questions about my walking mission.  He went for details.

“Where did you start?”

“Boston.”

“Where do you finish?”

“San Francisco, one month from now.  I’m encouraging the walking culture.”

“Fascinating.  How much distance in a day?”

“Twenty miles.”

“You have a support team?”

“Yes, we’re all Canucks, or Canadians.”

“What kind of shoes do you use?” he asked, while looking intently at them.

“Kyboot. Swiss technology.  Made in Italy.”

“Which highway are you taking?”

“50—all across the state.”

“And then?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“Let’s get away from the traffic,” he said.  He was overly safety conscious.  Very curious.  Not nosey.  He just wanted to understand our method and our purpose.  It all sounded good to him.  He had more questions.  It kept flowing like a waterfall.  I felt like asking him to give up his career and join the walk.

Other than Barney, I met Zeke who was cycling across the U.S.  Nice young fellow who’s roughing it.  He expressed he was confused about the U.S. political scene.

“I think a lot of people are,” I assured him so he would not feel alone.

By the way, the Old Lincoln Highway has linked up with us again.  He’s like an old acquaintance.

May the Source be with you!


20 mi

Sunday, August 13th, 2017
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East of Ely, Nevada
East of Ely

The terrain is unique for us as we go through it.  The desert is unforgiving by day, with its heat, but it can also be relentless for ice-like air currents in the morning, as they move through the mountains within that desert.  During the day, we can see little twisters, dust devils, where a gust of wind suddenly, from nowhere, picks up sand and dust and whirls it around.  On Friday, we barely escaped a surprise sand storm.  Well, it was a surprise to us.

Vegetation changes from low shrubs to short trees.  The junipers are prevalent with their cedar-like scent.  Around every corner, something new bedazzles you, and then, at least for a while, there is no corner, curve or bend.  You are in some infinite basin of openness.

Jackrabbits and now chipmunks dominate the land, while crows and hawks patrol the sky.  They have their ground-holes and trees.  What do we have?  A pretty good deal.  Motel owners with origins from Gujarat accommodate us and even cook for us at times.  We are being looked after.

During my evening walk, a man with a strong southern drawl asked, “R yah broke down?”  He also wanted to know if I read the Bible.

An elderly couple pulled over to warn that it is dangerous when the sun goes down.  On the other hand, a police officer checked out if I was an escapee in an orange jumpsuit.  There is a state prison nearby.

“I get that all the time,” I told him.

May the Source be with you!

20 mi

Saturday, August 12, 2017
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Osceola, Nevada
Light Shows and Such

Meteor showers in the night’s sky were our motivation for the early rise, but it meant taking a relatively long drive to reach our destination—the spot where I left off after yesterday’s trek.  We are now on Pacific time, having reached the Nevada border yesterday. 

By 4:08 a.m., we had reached our spot under a sparkled world of stationary stars and meteors shooting about.  It is that special time of year when star/sky gazing is the best, and continentally speaking, we are in the optimum place to view everything.  Hayagriva, Marshall, Curtis and I did not put out lawn chairs to begin the gaze.  We were committed to multi-tasking—walking, chanting and looking up, being awed by the ‘flight of light’. Marshall lost track of his sightings.  It was amazing—humbling.

As the sun crept up behind us, dissipating a stubborn night, the local plant life was revealed to us.  There are shrubs by the name of winterfat ( https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Krascheninnikovia ), salt brush (https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atriplex ),   and Indian rice grass (https://www.fs.fed.us/wildflowers/plant-of-the-week/achnatherum_hymenoides.shtml ). There’s something called halogeton ( https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Halogeton ), which is poisonous to livestock.

Curtis was bold in taking one of the herbs.

“I gave it to you to smell, not swallow.  Watch it, please!”

Historically, there’s interesting factors about the area.  The Fremont culture https://www.nps.gov/grba/learn/historyculture/fremont-indians.htm had established a village 700 years ago where archaeological findings reveal much of their past.

Osceola, was a mining town that shut down in 1940. A ghost town. http://www.ghosttowns.com/states/nv/osceola.html They extracted gold. I had to ponder what is real gold.  It’s sacred sound. It’s the great environment we’re in, despite the desert.  It’s each other.

May the Source be with you!

20 miles

Friday, August 11, 2017
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Baker, Nevada
Another Walker

Davin is from Flint, Michigan and he had a desire to walk the U.S. He’s been at it for over 300 days. He had sold all his personal belongings to take up this walk from the eastern side of the country to go to San Fransisco. Davin is but sixty miles behind us. He had heard of me and I had heard of him.

Interestingly enough, we are running into the same folks, one of whom gave him my card with the mantra “Hare Krishna” on the back of it. Devin had been looking at that mantra and then trying it. It could be that the translation grabbed his attention. “Oh awesome Creator, allow me to be of blissful service to You and the world.”

Here’s the coincidences, magic, whatever. He was trying out the mantra and as he was doing so, while walking on the same highway, we were chanting the mantra (with musical instruments) in the van on the return journey to our room. I asked Hayagriva, the driver, to please stop and meet the walker.

Davin was thrilled. So were we, to meet another trekker, and now someone who’s having a go at the sacred sound.

Davin is younger than me, smaller than me and in good shape. He carries his tent, sleeping gear, clothes and snacks in a stroller.

“What is your cause?” asked Hayagriva.

“For myself—personal development,” he said calmly.

I think he’s a gem. We gifted him with beads and a Gita. I’ll look him up when I get home.

May the Source be with you!

20 miles


Thursday, August 10th, 2017
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Confusion Range, Utah
About Today

It’s odd walking in a zone with no “home on the range.”  This is Day Four where we found no houses or buildings after Hinckley.  We are practically on another planet.  But I would say the shantielement, the peaceful side, compensates for the ghostliness of it all.  In truth, I see sublime beauty in the atmosphere.

I cannot say how thankful I am to the One who has sent me just a great group of fellows (devotees) to back me up in service to my guru, Srila Prabhupada.  Hayagriva, Marshall, Curtis and I are a Fab Four, I would say.  We complement each other in participation and spirit.  We are in a determined frame of mind to complete the task of walking the U.S. before I venture off on the next adventure, whenever and wherever that will be.  https://instagram.com/p/BXo9ANEFAhh/

In practically a single stroke, we conquered twenty miles today.  I left at 3:30 a.m., the rest of the group slept in, out of necessity.  I couldn’t get a hold of them by phone—phones were turned off.  A mistake, of course.  Still, we are a team.

After the twenty was done, we headed for—as every other day this week—the Reservoir, to do our outdoor cooking of a batch of kichari and to go for that swim in the water where the mud below squeezes through the toes like butter.

Much love was demonstrated by a fellow who works at the pizza place across from our Budget Inn room.  Ron asked for my card which has the maha mantra on the reverse side.  He approached people for donations and within an hour returned with just under forty dollars toward our cause.  Thanks so much Ron.  Your heart is humongous.

May the Source be with you!

20 mi


Wednesday, August 9th, 2017
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Confusion Range, Utah
The Police and Reporters
The highlights of my day were before and after our mid-day meal at Gunnison Bend Reservoir.  It was also before and after the mud bath Hayagriva and I partook.  As I may have mentioned before, the two professions of people I spend most time with are reporters and policemen.
First of all, Sheriff Curtis was making his patrol in his set-of-wheels through the Reservoir when he noticed us at the picnic shelter.  Our boys were preparing kichari (rice, dahl and veg mix) with some organic black cherry juice to use as a water replacement.  We simply ran out of water and gave it a try.  During the cooking, Sheriff Curtis came over and began a chat with us that lasted for a good three-quarters of an hour.  We dwelt on many things that we share in common such as the pro-activeness of preventing crime versus the reactive response to crime.  I was happy to hear that he goes to classes of young people on topics of morals, self-esteem and such.  He was great, and we left him with a Bhagavad-gita.  He looked at the cover and pointed, asking, “This is Krishna?  And this is his warrior friend?”

“That’s right!”

Barbara Clerk from the ‘Millard County Chronicle Progress’ arrived as I was putting some finishing touches to my consumption of the kichari.  She had a ton of questions—all good.

“What do you think of the U.S. president?” 

I suggested that, “I’m all for making America great again.  We just have to get more spiritual,” was my general remark.  “Let us see ourselves as spirit souls and choose that.”

Incidentally, the black cherry-infused kichari was a smash hit.

May the Source be with you!

21 mi


Tuesday, August 8th, 2017
→ The Walking Monk

Sevier Lake, Utah
Wanderers
I meet people who are travelling and are more or less living out of their cars.  Last summer, I met Johnny, who was parked overnight at the Mississippi River.  He was leaving one part of the country for another; destination—not sure.  He had just awakened from a night’s sleep when I met him, his car tucked under a tree and facing the river.  He was on his way to starting a new life.
Last night I met a woman from Minnesota.  She stopped, was curious, even delighted to meet a fellow traveller.  It seems she also was in transit, with her belongings in her van, and out to start a new beginning.

Connecting with such people in transition are the finer moments of the day.  Usually I meet locals or tourists.  They are routined or purposeful.  And then there are those who are looking to find their place in the world.  My heart goes out to such souls.  May they find a spiritual outlet.  Ultimately, that is what satisfies.

Today I met wanderers, but of a different kind—a tiny scorpion making a crawl across the road, a massive hornet, a lizard scurrying about, typical of the desert.  Many creepy-crawlers manifested.  Species such as these are not common to me, and the boys and I were in awe at the sight of them.  There is no limit to the Maker’s abilities. They are also travellers.  They are in motion. 

“How do you like this nomadic life?” I asked Curtis, who has been with us for a week now.

“I enjoy it; it’s somewhat austere, which I like.”

To my fortune Curtis is turning out to be a great leg massage therapist.  To ease leg tension Hayagriva and I took to a mud bath, an obligation that wanderers of the wilderness can thrive on.  We really did look like mud men.

May the Source be with you!

20 mi


Monday, August 7th, 2017
→ The Walking Monk

The Desert, Utah
Water Yes and No
The sign reads “Next Services—83 Miles,” just outside the village of Hinckley.  The message conveyed is just a sampling of what is to come.  There will be practically zero human population.  No water.  No convenience stores.  No water.  No gas stations.  No water.
We are entering hard-core desert.

A woman came out of her car with a bag of iced water.  And in the course of the trek today, with Marshal and Curtis joining me, another motorist pulled over.  “I think you’ll need water,” he said and handed over some H2O, in one of those infamous plastic bottles.  We really do appreciate such gestures.

I found out that this stretch of highway really is the ‘road less travelled’.  As an opportunist, I could now call almost anyone on the phone and not be disturbed by roaring vehicles.  The road was my office.

There yah go.  15 miles were covered and then it was time to break fast at noon.  The fast was to honour Balaram, the divine brother of Krishna.  Before our crew took to eating, I just put the question out there to the boys, “What is it that you like about Balarama?”  Different answers came and then Hayagriva mentioned, “He walked a lot.”

“That’s right, he was a genuine pilgrim and covered much of India’s mainland going from one sacred place to another,” I said.  “He went to the Ganges’ mouth.”  Oh–water!

Fortunately our break was in the town of Delta.  We back-tracked via vehicle to rest under trees, and then went for a swim in Gunnison Bend Reservoir.  Heavenly it was.  Water.  Then the rains came, a wish came true for water, but it wasn’t necessarily the way we wanted it to come.  It’s just not in our control.

May the Source be with you!

20 miles


Sunday, August 6th, 2017
→ The Walking Monk

Delta, Utah
The Gift of the Wind

To cover some hours walking in coolness, our team went out to the road near midnight after the talk at Salt Lake City.  Victor, 22, a young Brazilian who assists on the llama farm we are staying at, joined me for the experience.  He rather liked trekking at that quiet hour and joining us with our simultaneous chanting.  Marshall, Curtis and I were transfixed on the moon and its interplay with the clouds.  Because the traffic west of Eureka is so subdued, even on a Saturday night, we could manage to keep our eyes peeled on the sky above.  The soon-to-be full moon was also giving us some clearance.

When we began this ten mile stretch, the winds were high and some tumbleweeds rolled their way across our path.  And then near the town of Lynndyl, the wind, more gentle now, sent us a kitten.  At about four months old, this new walking recruit clung to our company.  We couldn’t figure out whether she had a master, being that we saw no home nearby.  Perhaps she’s orphaned.  Perhaps she was let out by some motorist who couldn’t maintain the pet at home.

We decided to adopt her.  Our army is expanding, but only temporarily, since Victor and now the kitten will be back at the llama farm.  We named her “Tumbleweed” because of her blonde colour and the fact that the wind seemed to bring her to us.  She seems to love our whole team, a bunch of monks and guys, and we love her. https://instagram.com/p/BXb-tKHl_x_/

In terms of love, we also took to liking the people at the South Eastern Alternative Healing Arts Centre in Price.  With short notice thirty down-to-earth folks came to hear “Tales from Trails.”

We had a Q and A.  Nice!

We had a kirtan.  Nice!

May the Source be with you!

18 miles


Saturday, August 5th, 2017
→ The Walking Monk

Beyond Eureka, Utah
The Girl With the Apple
Jan is a photographer who was aiming her camera at the nature around, near an old mining development which has practically gone ghostly, off of Hwy. 6.  I happened to be walking into the direction of her spiffy camera when she took advantage of a monk in view.  “Do you mind?” she asked after she clicked.
“Of course not,” I said and we made friends.  Maybe I looked haggard, at least tired, and was offered an apple.  It was special, flavourful and reminded me of the apples that Apple Annie used to sell in “Pocketful of Miracles.”  All about good luck and fortune.

From that area, Eureka, I went through nothing but barren land—no village, no people—but I believe the good wishes of Jan stayed with me, perhaps through the apple.

Before we—my team and I—went for the long haul in the desert, we popped into a shop, practically the only one standing, and got a charge out of the puns on the wall.  Each one was a dilly as one-liners.

“I tried to catch the frog.  I mist.”

“I didn’t like my beard at first, then it grew on me.”

“I’m reading a book about anti-gravity.  It’s impossible to put down.”

“Why don’t programmers like nature?  It has too many bugs.”

“I don’t trust these stairs because they’re always up to something.”

This evening we conducted a program in Salt Lake City.  I spoke on Chapter 2 Verse 40 from the Bhagavad-gita, about overcoming fear through service.

May the Source be with you!

20 mi


Friday, August 4th, 2017
→ The Walking Monk

Eureka, Utah
Utah is Sweet
When I stepped out of the home of Charu and Vaibhavi, readying myself for the ride to my starting point, the moon was an amazing orange tone.  The out-of-doors always presents itself with more drama, sensations, beauty and adventures than any indoor dynamic.
Hayagriva had spotted a bear, yesterday, a few feet from him.  That encounter with a black bear was the first sighting of one on this U.S. trip.  Curtis and I met a woman early this morning who was carrying her pet ferret, who goes by the name “Alvin.”  Cute!  And overnight, we all stayed at Charu’s llama farm, admiring the darn attractive things.

Yes, nature, animals and pets are part and parcel of this walk, but it’s also people.  Yes, people.  They have been so good to me.  Utah is the best.  I get ride offers all the time.  In Spanish Fork, within the city’s limits, motorists were stopping to offer a ride to destination wherever.  Today, in the countryside, moving toward the historic mining town, Eureka, I lost count of how many occasions like that which occurred this morning.

One fellow on his way to Salt Lake City saw me, felt pity as I sat tired by the side of the mountain, and offered a ride.  I decided to take him up on his offer because fatigue and heat had indeed overcome me, but it was only up to the point of where my crew was.  I relaxed, lay down, had some almond milk and then was driven back to the point where I left off.

Eureka was interesting, especially that rustic and original cabin of Orrin Porter Rockwell aka Peter, who was like a hunting ferret for the infamous outlaws of the time. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Porter_Rockwell

May the Source be with you!

20 mi


Thursday, Aug 3rd, 2017
→ The Walking Monk

Spanish Fork, Utah
Gifts, Luck and the Radio
Luke from DC and his girlfriend from New Jersey were stuck on Highway 6.  It was a flat tire that troubled them.  There was no reception on their phone but there was on mine.  I happened to be there, when they were in distress, and they asked for help.  Hayagriva, my support, came to further assist.  Their spare was useless.  Because of our help, the couple paid for our full tank of gas—a generous gift—after AAA (triple A) came to the rescue.
I received a second gift from them—a magic card with Legendary Creature “Human Monk, Narset, Enlightened Master.”  Is that good luck?  I’m not sure. http://gatherer.wizards.com/Pages/Card/Details.aspx?multiverseid=386616

But one woman, a motorist, gave me water and a crystal.  Will that bring me good luck?  I do have Krishna’s mercy, and that should be good enough, yet I might consider all these gifts to be that mercy, including the water.  The several ride offers I received, I feel, are signs of compassion.  Kind gestures for sure.

I managed to get in a morning interview with Frank and Taylor on KUSA FM 100 radio in Price City.  Frank introduced me on the air waves as a “Hare Krishna monk.”  To date, he’s the first radio announcer to ever get my initiated name right.  He said it perfectly.  Over the air I said, “I’m impressed.”

Frank asked about me.

“Well, I became a monk in 1973.”

“That’s before I was born.”

“When you were in another body,” I added.

He asked about adventures on the road.  My eyes were on a picture of a badger pinned on the studio wall when he asked me.

“Well, I came upon a badger but he hadn’t made it across the road.  A car was the culprit.  It’s car country.  Cars have taken out our sense of neighbourliness (humanity / sensitivity).”

May the Source be with you!

20 mi


Wednesday, August 2nd, 2017
→ The Walking Monk

Soldier Summit, Utah
The Death and Life of Today
The wind was forceful, blowing my robes every which way.  That powerful air funnelled through these incredible rock formations.  It was still quite dark out, and rain, a teasing rain, came down—cold droplets.  I received a call on my cell in the course of this trekking through turbulence.
“He’s gone!” said the caller, Anubhava, from Montreal, in reference to Basab’s passing.

The sun did come up, so incrementally, and the wind died down.  Then an e-mail from a friend.  “Could you please pray for my father, age 84, who just left his body this morning.  He died from cancer.”

Deer and prairie dog are casualties.  A fresh deer carcass lay by the road and the totalled car that hit the deer.  The impact may have killed the car, too.  A front tire came off the axle and the engine is done.

The theme of this morning was so obviously “death,” and “turbulence,” but it all became easily replaced by life, sunshine and then there was Rick.

Rick is a writer with the Sun Advocate in Price City.  He was really intrigued with our walking project, its intent, the adventure behind it and the tales I was able to relay to him.  “The tremendous benefit of moving one foot forward and then swinging the adjacent one forward—the simple stepping procedure we take so much for granted—is there for all,” I said.

I felt like I was making him feel guilty because as he admitted, he felt the need to walk more.  A real gentleman, he is.  He gave a lift to the day.  Thanks!

May the Source be with you!

20 mi


Tuesday, August 1st, 2017
→ The Walking Monk

Helper, Utah
Back to Miles
Life is indeed tough.  Some bitter news came to me in the latter part of the day—the loss of life of one of our young members from our Montreal community.  He was 33.  Basab Chaudury was a bright star and a very special and mild but committed devotee.  He died suddenly from a condition of brain infection.  Please pray.  His dad Samir, and devotional family will miss him dearly.
Yes, prayerful chanting occupied my second segment of today’s walk.  I’m back at it again.  The other three companions turned out redder than I from sun exposure.

I had picked up from where I left off a month ago.  I find myself on a busy Highway #6, westbound toward Spanish Fork.  I called my dear friend, Charu.  He said, “You’re in the most intriguing part of Utah with its mountain formations.”  One, the “balance rock,” is this huge natural-cut rock that is suspended by a feeble foundation.  How it’s held up, only God knows.  It’s awe-inspiring!

Many motorists stopped to wonder about our little walking brigade as I had my guys with me.  Ride offers came along with their curiosity.  We had it good on this first day back on track.

Some, on other sets of legs and hooves, didn’t move so well.  It was a mama deer with her two calves that were bouncing along very near to us.  Unfortunately, mama leaped a fence that her young ones couldn’t scale so it left her bewildered when she carried on and then looked back to find them not there.  I believe instinct will bring them together or as we believe actually, paramatma(God in the heart) will lead them to reunion.

May the Source be with you!

21 miles


Monday, July 31st, 2017
→ The Walking Monk

Toronto / Salt Lake City
Going For the Finish
Upon landing in Salt Lake City, the Air Canada flight pilot informed us of  95°F weather outside.  That’s warm.  I was met by my trusted brahmachari team, Hayagriva, Marshal and now also Curtis Taylor from Calgary, to drive us to Helper, a town in Utah.  This is a location close to where I reconvene the U.S. walk.

I had been telling everyone back home in Canada that it’s the last leg of my trek.  “It will take forty-five days to complete.  I won’t see you for a month and a half.  I’ll be going through mountain, desert and green regions, finishing off at San Francisco.”

While at the airport in Toronto, I e-mailed my dear godsister, Malati, who had attended the first Ratha Yatra (Chariot Festival) outside of India, fifty years ago.  That was in San Francisco, somewhere near the Pacific, and that’s the actual route I anticipate taking.  It would be a celebratory walk.  Fifty years of Krishna Consciousness on the west coast of America is something worth honouring, and I’m glad to be part of it in a unique way, by doing all this walking.

In fact, living the life of a monk is unique in this day and age of sensual pursuits.  I mentioned to Curtis over the phone, before he embarked on a long bus journey from Calgary, “You’re a misfit like I am.  We don’t fit in to this materialistic society, so come, join our team and give it a try.  Let’s celebrate it together.”

He responded immediately and purchased that bus ticket.  Good for him and for us.

May the Source be with you!

0 km


Sunday, July 30th, 2017
→ The Walking Monk

Pelee Island / Hwy 401
I’m Walking
Well, what can I say?  Some of our modern day systems are just not working out.  After a peaceful morning spent on Pelee Island involving a class from the Gita, a breakfast and a swim, the four of us from Toronto, like thousands of others, got stranded, not on the island but on the mainland.
Stephen, the driver, took a turn eastbound on the busiest highway in the country—the 401.  With road construction happening during the week, a narrow strip with concrete barriers on either side can create a precarious situation when an accident occurs.  Traffic came to a stand-still and no emergency vehicles could cross this lane.  We were locked in.  What does that mean for the poor folks who are trapped in a narrow funnel?

A second accident doesn’t help.  Motorists came out of their cars and started talking to each other.  Fathers were taking their young ones over the barrier to have them play in the ditch.  The fellow in front of us came out of his car, opened his trunk and spent quite a while cleaning his golf clubs.  All of us were left in a limbo as to what the problem was ahead of us.  Both east and west lanes came to a halt.  We were frozen for five hours.

I told Stephen, “I’m walking.  Pick me up when the traffic moves again.”  A helicopter came to a landing to aid the injured from the accident.  I then had the entire 401 eastbound to myself.  Motorists were curious to see a monk emerge from a mess.

“I’m taking Bloomfield Road at the first exit,” I told Stephen on the phone.  That landed me on the historic trail of the African slaves, “The Underground Railway,” their trail to freedom in the 1800s.  Also, it landed me in Chatham, the city where I was born.  It was memory lane for sure.  You could not believe how many drivers offered me rides and kind words, including the police, during the chaos.  People do have a heart.  https://instagram.com/p/BXNmgbwl39Q/ 

May the Source be with you!

13 km


Saturday, July 29th, 2017
→ The Walking Monk

Pelee Island, Ontario
Leisure Day
A number of us from the U.S. and Canada came to this island for a physical and spiritual boost.  From Ohio, we had families from Cleveland and Hudson; from Michigan, Detroit; and from Ontario, Windsor, Leamington and Toronto.
This southernmost piece of Canada, set in Lake Erie, is referred to as an ecological gem with rare plants and animals.  But our group was not poised to try to spot those unique cacti or salamanders.  We were here to have a sanga, an association of sorts that summer can easily encourage.  It is a city escape, a stepping into solitude.  On day one, our group took to the lake for a crazy swim, fighting the waves.  Two from our collective, I had practically coerced into coming to the island, and once those waves came at them, all the urban woes that could haunt them were knocked out of their existence.  They lit up.

We ate good prasadam and had ice-breaking sessions.  We ended up talking about Krishna’s pulling his warrior friend, Arjuna, out of the doldrums.  This was really a therapeutic experiential.

Our stay was at a resort, Harmony House, edged along the water on the south side.  On previous visits here, we might have camped by a small beach, but Mike and Purnamasi, from Cleveland, arranged this green haven for us.  Simply put, a little planning for taking care of a community’s needs is essential for its well-being.

Indeed, the Great Spirit (Krishna) was smiling on us.

May the Source be with you!

3 km


Friday, July 28, 2017
→ The Walking Monk

Toronto, Ontario
Disciple

One exciting event that is going on in the ashram is what is called The Guru/Disciple Course.  The course prepares one for life’s mission and to accept someone more experienced than oneself as teacher, especially in the area of the science of the self.  It might be considered as somewhat of a psychology class.  The role of such a mentor or teacher is to bring the student to a higher state of consciousness and to an enhanced awareness of Krishna.  The course is designed to improve the quality of students (disciples) and the quality of devotional relationships.

An important element in being educated about life itself is to demonstrate a very balanced life.  In fact, a good teacher (guru) is one who teaches by actions through leading that balanced life. 

One interesting dynamic is that while there exist so many gurus, guru is one.  This simply means that many gurus are giving lessons but the teachings are the same; the teaching is one.  It is the same philosophy coming down since time immemorial.  Param para is the term which refers to disciplic succession. Some discipline is involved in learning. Discipline is a derivative of the word ‘disciple’. 

Now, when I took my evening walk, I met John.  It was like yesterday, though I hadn’t seen him since he had come around our ashram in the ’90s.  John said, “Yah know, instead of me accepting all religions as being the same, as I did when I used to visit you, I now believe in Jesus.”

“I appreciate that you follow that discipline and all will be fine.”

John protested, “it’s not a discipline.  ‘I am the way, the truth and the life…’” (John 14:6)

At that moment, I began to move away from John as I could see he didn’t understand how to be an inclusive and friendly disciple of Jesus.

May the Source be with you!

10 km


Thursday, July 27th, 2017
→ The Walking Monk

Hamilton, Ontario
Maha Mantra Week
I was asked by monk, Ekalavya, to say a word about the upcoming Holy Name Week, an annual global push for getting chanting more on the world stage.  I complied, but I let him know, as he’s a prime coordinator for this initiative, that I’m not in favour of the term “Holy Name,” but would rather speak about “Maha Mantra Week.”  He was okay with that if my message used that terminology over the internet.
My objection is that “Holy Name” sounds too Catholic.  “No discredit to the tradition.  I love it.  Was born into it.  Really, I would like to use the term that more clearly reflects our own tradition.”

“I’m fine with that,” he repeated.

He held up my Samsung and started to film.    https://instagram.com/p/BXFOApIlhSc/

So, there you have it, but only a portion.  Mt appeal to the public and more particularly the leaders of our Canadian yatra (community) is to prepare for the sharing of the great “Hare Krishna” mantra.  In full, it is “Hare Krishna Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna Hare Hare / Hare Rama Hare Rama Rama Rama Hare Hare.”  This is sacred sound.

By the way, I found no time to walk today.  I travelled to Burlington, Ontario from Toronto by way of the commuter Go Train and in the process of sitting there, I chanted this mantra, with practically no volume.  Just soft enough for my ears to benefit.  From Burlington, I was dined by my doctor at his home.  Jagannatha M. and wife, Saci, and I drove to Hamilton to look at a property for possible future consideration as an outlet or outreach spot for the Maha Mantra.

Please come up with ways and means to share the Maha Mantra.  September 9th-19th, 2017.

May the Source be with you!

0 km

Wednesday, July 26th, 2017
→ The Walking Monk

Edmonton, Alberta
Clearing the Mind Through Order
It was brief, walking the industrial park in the Mill Woods area and then the Little India section of shops, with masala smells in the air.  For any walk, short or lengthy, one of the principle reasons for stepping along is to get some clearing in the head.  Time taken indoors has its value, but it’s the balance which comes from being outdoors that seems to make a day complete.
I had spent some time in the morning relieving clutter and disorder in the temple room of the Radha Govinda Cultural Centre.  It’s actually tough for me to sit in the house of God and expect to chant peacefully when there’s even partial disarray.  My mind is cleared through “order.”  I confess my own personal room back home could use some love as well, but when people need to meditate it must be neat.  Getting chairs and plants in their place was what I modestly worked at.

There, now that’s better! I felt good after shifting items.

Upon returning from the short walk, I got a chance to see if my re-positioning of things was right-on.  Walking is great like that.  It gives you the space and time to re-assess things.  So I came back and saw the work done, including the opening of windows, allowing plants maximum light, and it was good.

I didn’t come to Edmonton to re-vamp this venue but necessity ruled my time.  A second short walk with three companions also allowed for a clearing of clutter.  When you see a weed, you may want to pull it out.  With the Lambs Quarters plants which Ekalavya and I spotted near the saree shop, we immediately took action.  Two healthy plants got yanked out and we felt great, because the leaves of the plants are better in the stomach than as the growth between the cracks of a sidewalk.  They got cooked up and they were absolutely delicious.

May the Source be with you!

4 km



Tuesday, July 25th, 2017
→ The Walking Monk

Edmonton, Alberta
Checking Things Out
A small contingent of Krishna devotees and I went scouting areas of Edmonton for a new possible future location for a summerfest that we would host.  Currently, the annual event is promoted as “Chariot Festival of Edmonton” and the route for the procession has been in an industrial park, on a Saturday, with a late-morning time-frame.  Little activity occurs in this Mill Woods section of the city, at that time.  It is an impetus to re-think location wise.
After driving through the Whyte Avenue area and Churchill Plaza, and talking it over, we came to the conclusion that perhaps two events would be better than one.  You have two audiences to cater to—the South East Asian group who relate to a Chariot Festival, and then everybody else who could more easily digest a health food / kirtan event.  It’s something we are seriously considering.

From our travels in Edmonton, after looking and deliberating, Bala Krishna, the temple co-ordinator, drove our group to the house of a very refined elderly couple living in the Sherwood area.  Our purpose there was to give a personal invite to the upcoming Chariot Festival as it is currently.  We had a super-enlivening discussion, especially on the matter of the Sanskrit phrase tat tvam asi which translates as “I am.”  The question arose as to whether our atma (soul) merges into a oneness reality, at the time of moksha (liberation), or does the atma retain individuality, once freed from this cycle of birth and death?

Very Interesting!

May the Source (not the Force) be with you!

5 km


Monday, July 24th, 2017
→ The Walking Monk

Calgary, Alberta
At Olympic Plaza
I really wanted to do the grassroots Hare Krishna thing, something we call Hari Nam Sankirtan.  Basically we’re talking about picking up the drum (mrdunga), the cymbals (kartals), harmonium (pump organ) and ourselves.  So it was done.
Our venue was Olympic Plaza across from City Hall where people linger and relax.  Catching the tail-end of the lunch hour, more than a dozen Krishnas, mostly females, made it to that cozy place, and we placed our madras over the grass.  The chanting began and two young women from amongst us took to dancing to the beat.

The beat is what brought the attention.  Folks came over to our side of the plaza to sit, listen and absorb.  Moms and dads with babies in strollers stopped for their toddlers to not miss the show.

Our theme naturally was “togetherness,” or “wholesomeness.”  This is the yuga-dharma, the function for the age.  It’s universal.  It’s outreach.  It’s sharing.

After the two hours of kirtan I got reacquainted with Dave Schultz, the produce of “The Longest Road,” a documentary released in 2002 that is all about the Trans-Canada Highway and how it negatively and positively impacted people’s lives.  I am featured in it numerous times.  It was broadcast annually on Canadian television.

Dave came over for prasadam, our blessed food.  He loved it.  We chatted.

May the Source be with you!

7 km


Sunday, July 23th, 2017
→ The Walking Monk

Calgary, Alberta
Sun and Shadow
I had three bhakti yogis with me on an early morning trek, Jai Govinda from Vancouver, as well as Gaurachandra and Radha Madhava, both from Calgary.  We hit the walking trail called The Rotary/Mattamy Greenway.
The experience was one of meeting the sun and the shadows that were formed.  Always, those magic hours, dawn and dusk, seem to produce the perfect opening and closure to the day, especially when clouds aren’t in the way.

Magpies and hares dominate the peripheral section of Calgary.  They seem to accompany us above and below.  The hares are of substantial size, not the little bunnies you might expect.  If anything, they remind us of leaping kangaroos.  The magpies do a similar leap but they seem to chatter idly, whereas the hares are absolutely silent in their behaviour.

Gaurachandra told us something gross about the crow-like magpie.  He witnessed several of them pecking at the behind of a hare who was hit by a vehicle.  The mammal was injured, not mobile enough to depart, and the birds took advantage.  That’s nature for you.  It’s not always a story of sunshine.

When the sun did come down this day, we were indoors at the RMCA centre where Jai Govinda conducted a fire ceremony, a havan.  The purpose was to initiate two candidates who had worked toward their shining endeavour.  Ashvin was given the name “Anuttama,” which appears in the Gita, Chapter 7.  And young Radha Priya, 13, took the name I gave—Rohini.  They were “lit!”

May the Source be with you!

6 km


Saturday, July 22nd, 2017
→ The Walking Monk

Calgary, Alberta
To Calgary
It was a long haul to Calgary via a zigzag route—seven hours plus.  Sadly, with this destination, it concludes my trip on the youth bus, which has marked on its side, “The Krishna Culture Festival.”
Manoram, with a later switch to Mukunda, were the overnight drivers through Alberta’s badlands and flatlands of pasture and canola fields.

I said “sadly” because I will miss the company of the young men, ages 10-17, along with their archangels.  It really is a good program, even though, for those of us who are categorized as “older” it’s a challenge to contend with the wild energy.  On the other hand, you have in your midst a powerhouse of hope, anticipation, talent and explosive dynamics in the form of these young guys.

In our morning session in Saskatoon, I was asked to speak about the hormonal power of a young person at puberty and beyond, and how to channel this interesting appetite, favourably.  They listened.  This morning, time didn’t allow.  We arrived in Calgary and swiftly took our morning showers to ready ourselves for the Ratha Yatra.  Naheed Nenshi, Calgary’s mayor, was there.  He took the ornate broom and did the traditional sweep before the chariot rolled along.

8th Avenue is a bustling pedestrian-only street, so ideal for our festival.  The prasadamfood was of good quality, at the park behind the Mehwata Armory, with a decent vegan option.  Our boys did a great final performance of “The Gita” with me.

May the Source be with you!

4 km


Friday, July 21st, 2017
→ The Walking Monk

Saskatoon, Saskatchewan
Good in the End
At these spiritual events, such as the “Feed Your Soul” fest in Saskatoon, there is always help needed.  Fortunately, people come forward volunteering their time, creativity, talent, intelligence and their hands.  From the local Hindu temple, a procession usually begins, like a mini Chariot Festival.  It was 5:00 p.m., and I realized from seeing the organizers running a little behind, that I should step in.
About three hundred people had already gathered in the parking lot, anticipating fun and some ritual.  I became the priest and executed a quick pooja or worship of the icons on the chariot.  Krishna in the form of a threesome—Jagannath, Baladev and Subhadra.  People had come close after I summoned them.  The ritual began with the use of bell, incense, conch sound and attention.

Our visiting monk from New York, Ekalavya had begun the chanting.  Drums hadn’t arrived and then they did.  No police came this time to escort the crowd as the procession began.  I was informed that every last officer was needed at a local event.

Okay, I’ll become security along with the men who also saw the need.  “Stay on the right side of the road everyone.”  Then “Please stay off people’s grass.  Please!”  “Why has the chariot stopped?”  “Oh, the rope that pulls it got entangled in the wheel. Great!”  A little sarcasm there.

The crowd was happy—yogis, Hindus, Sikhs, Vaishnavas and free spirits.  We passed by a church sign that read, “God Wants Spiritual Fruits Not Spiritual Nuts.”  That was a clear message.

We arrived at our stage site.  I leapt onto the stage after Lorrel’s welcome address and introduced our play “The Gita.”  The boys performed over my narration.  They did well.  I gave them a scare at our practice time.  “Don’t goof off?”  They took it seriously.  The magic show, good.  Kirtanat the end was phenomenal.  A good day.  Good volunteers. https://instagram.com/p/BW3sM1cFFh0/

May the Source be with you!

3 km

 

 

Thursday, July 20th, 2017
→ The Walking Monk

Regina, Saskatchewan
Words to Reflect On
The Winnipeg show by our boys was well received.  The audience, a wide-ranged demographic, was both enlightened and entertained simultaneously at the Unitarian Universalist Church venue.
In Regina, we performed our “Gita” play, along with Datta’s magic show, and then kirtanby all at the ISKCON Centre on Retallack Street. Every place we go, we aim to please.

Performance isn’t the only objective of our bus program.  The young teens who form our team learn a number of things including how to be “Humble and Kind,” a song someone pointed out to me sung by country singer Mo Grow.  The boys get to take up menial tasks such as cleaning the bunks in the bus and even the washrooms used by them wherever we are each day.  You can call it training.

Each morning we also have a sadhana session where we all sing standard songs to honour guru and Krishna.  I also may be asked to express some words on bhakti.  Today’s verse of choice was about determination, sourced from Bhagavad-gita, Chapter 2, verse 41.  “Those who are on this path are resolute in purpose, and their aim is one.  O beloved child of the Kurus, the intelligence of those who are irresolute is many-branched.”

And if I may, I extract from its purport some worthy message.  “Faith means unflinching trust in something sublime.”  And another one. “The highest perfection of Krishna consciousness is renunciation of the material conception of life.” 

Finally, another statement worth noting is as follows: “The whole process depends on perfect knowledge of the soul beyond the conception of the body—not theoretically but practically, when there is no longer chance for some gratification manifested in fruitive activities.”  Commentary by Srila Prabhupada.

May the Source be with you!

7 km


Wednesday, July 19th, 2017
→ The Walking Monk

Winnipeg, Manitoba
An Incident About Ownership
After our showers at the YMCA off of Fermor Avenue, I decided to walk the short forty-five minute distance to Vishal’s house for breakfast.  I’m not always that particularly happy waiting for the bus party to get ready.  I see it as the opportunity to move my limbs.  On some days, during the wait, it’s the only change.  We’re always on the move with the bus, having eight hours between each city that we stop at.
At the moment I arrived at Vishal’s home—he moved in only three days ago—the bus with the boys, pulled up.  It parked across the street and everyone unloaded to the space just next to the curb, onto a fairly fresh-cut lawn.  The shoes of the passengers came out and our group of young guys with three chaperone ladies and three chaperone gents spent a little extra time on that neighbour’s lawn.

Now this put the neighbours slightly on edge.  Being a bit over-reactive, the lady on the lawn expressed to me later, “We were in shock.  We didn’t know a bus was coming to our street.  Someone burnt down a neighbour’s garage the other day.  You don’t know who or what people are doing.”  She said her husband was very concerned, especially about the presence of strangers on their grass.

It was Vrinda, our local leader, who was also privy to their complaints, and shed some light on the actual ownership of where the youth were temporarily trampling.  “Doesn’t the city own this portion of the grass?”  Her question somewhat quieted the couple.

In any event, a patrol officer was called to address the situation.  She passed by me in her vehicle after I left with an earful of complaints.  She gave a smile and a wave.  Apparently she had heard about our program and the Walking Monk and came to pacify, and do whatever else needed doing.  It was interesting.  No property damage was done.

May the Source be with you!

4 km


Tuesday, July 18th, 2017
→ The Walking Monk

Thunder Bay, Ontario
At the Open Mine
Just east of Thunder Bay is the largest amethyst mine in North America.  It’s a purple gem, sometimes rusty red due to a strong iron content.  There is a scientific reasoning behind that rich colour but for now let’s stick to the legend.  While the bus crew went to prospecting, or picking and washing their individual pieces from the quarry, some of us meditated on this story.
“Millions of years ago, Bacchus, the god of wine, was angered at the insult of Man.  He vowed to let his man-eating tigers devour the first human they could catch.  A beautiful princess named Amethyst was traveling from Lake Superior to worship at Diana’s Grotto on the highest hilltop.  Hearing the tiger’s roar, she climbed up to Elbow Lake hoping to escape by canoe.  No canoe could be found so she quickly climbed into a nearby crystal cave and prayed for help.  The goddess Diana, hearing the maiden’s prayer, sealed the princess safely into the cave.  Bacchus, remorseful and ashamed, poured red wine on the cave thus freeing the princess.  The wine stained the crystals in the cave creating the beautiful gemstone Amethyst.”

Our crew of thirty-six collectively gathered over fifty pounds of the pretty gems, but I bet you that with all the outdoor activity, like that, we’ve lost pounds of flesh.  This is confirmed by one of our bus drivers, Dattatreya, who’s had twenty years of experience.  In fact, he said that the boys lose weight while the girls either sustain or add weight.  This point is confirmed by Datta’s wife, Radha.

The main point of this bus trip is to provide a full-on spiritual experience and reduce some karma that tends to drag us all down.

May the Source be with you!

4 km