Recorded on Dec. 1, 2011 in Murwillumbah, Australia.
Message to Disciples
Message to Disciples
→ Mukunda Goswami Sanga
Recorded on Dec. 1, 2011 in Murwillumbah, Australia.
Class about Markandeay Rishi on Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati’s anniversary. By Matsyavatara dasa (Marco Ferrini)
→ Matsya Avatar das adhikari
Class about Markandeay Rishi on Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati’s anniversary. By Matsyavatara dasa (Marco Ferrini)
→ Matsya Avatar das adhikari
Message to Students
→ Mukunda Goswami Sanga
Recorded on Dec. 1, 2011 in Murwillumbah, Australia.
Message to Students
→ Mukunda Goswami Sanga
Recorded on Dec. 1, 2011 in Murwillumbah, Australia.
Remembering Her Grace Srimati Yamuna Devi Dasi
→ Mukunda Goswami Sanga
Thursday, December 22, 2011, Murwillumbah, Australia.
Remembering Her Grace Srimati Yamuna Devi Dasi
→ Mukunda Goswami Sanga
Thursday, December 22, 2011, Murwillumbah, Australia.
Maddy (Madhavi) Comes Home
→ Life With the Cows and Land

Maddy (Madhavi) has finally come home! She arrived Saturday, December 17. Thanks to Judy Gross for initiating the rescue of Madhavi and all her work in finalizing the needed tests to cross the border and arranging for transport. Also, thanks to the Champaka Mala and Ananda Subramanian for naming her and all the ISCOWP members that gave to saving Madhavi and providing for her continued care.
Upon meeting Madhavi, we could understand what Judy was saying when she wrote that Madhavi needed a break. Her milk bag was huge and her hips bony, her tail was cut off and she walked gingerly as if she didn't get much exercise. Judy was telling me that one of the three cows she saved was a milking cow too. Her hips filled out and her bag shrunk when she was dried up. So, we have hopes for Madhavi to become strong and healthy and happy. Unlike our cows, she has no winter coat yet from being inside all the time. We are keeping the barn doors closed so she doesn't get cold. Next year she should have a winter coat as she will be outside a lot and will have time to acclimate to the winter weather.
Madhavi came from a kinder dairy than most and still one can see the suffering for the cow in the business of commercial milk. If you haven't already, please read the current issue of the ISCOWP News in pdf file online whose articles address the issue of "Blood Milk vs Ahimsa Milk" and" Is Your Milk Ahimsa Milk?
You can see a photo album of Madhavi coming home HERE.
You can see a short video of Madhavi entering the barn HERE.
Another short video of Madhavi heading for the feed aisle HERE.

"Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart for opening your home (well, barn - LOL) to Maddy! I was thrilled to see how wonderfully your cows are cared for. I knew I was leaving her in very good hands - the BEST! Love to you all.' Judy

"To me the position of Mother Cow is so beautiful and merciful. Maddy/Madhavi has come from a very intense and thankless life of a commercial dairy cow. She was not really seen as anything but a serial number to be measured in gallons of milk and dollars and cents. It is so nice to see her have the life she deserves as a wonderful Krsna Dasi. Because she is so merciful she naturally takes to her service of reminding us of Krsna and His pastimes with His lovely cows. Thank you Madhavi!" Dhananjaya
We pray this letter find you well.
Yours, Chayadevi
ISCOWP Co-Managing Director
Where Is Green Parrot?
→ The Little Conch
I’m getting ready to go up to Hudson to paint a mural at Sadhana Yoga. I’ve only done a few murals so I’m a little nervous, but excited too. Any large canvas is a freeing experience to create on, and walls are as good as any. Body parts even better!
The theme of the mural is the sacred grafitti found in the holy town of Vrindavan. The divine names of Radha and Krishna are painted there on almost every wall, tree trunk, lamp post and rickshaw hood. For many renunciates that spend their days there, the main service that they perform is to paint and repaint these names with coarse brushes and a small steel tiffin of paint. Sometimes they are painted in English, more often in Sanskrit.
In Hudson, I’ve been asked to paint them in Sanskrit, even though most people that see it won’t be able to read it. Sanskrit is written in a script called Devanagari, said to originate in the heavens. For this reason, the lines themselves are considered to be purifying to look at, even if they are nothing but pretty curves to the beholder. A sacred word, like ‘om’ is considered to be the same in quality, whether written, heard, spoken or just seen.
Aside from divine names, I’m also planning to incorporate another touch of Vrindavan – green parrots! These beautiful birds used to be present everywhere there – screeching and twittering on every branch and phone line. I remember a book I used to read as a little girl – ‘But Where Is Green Parrot?’ These days they hide in real life too, but you can still see the telltale flashes of of electric lime in the trees in the less inhabited areas of Vrindavan. In the stories of Radha and Krishna, they often act as messengers, carrying secrets between friends and lovers or acting as confidantes.
Parrots have the wonderful ability to remember language and repeat it, something that is both celebrated and looked down upon in bhakti yoga teachings. Sukadeva (literally, best of the parrots), the reciter of one of the most important bhakti texts, the Srimad Bhagavatam, is praised for his feat of speaking the text for seven days and nights continuously, imparting the wisdom just as he received it from his teachers. But the same teachings also warn us not to become parrot-like and repeat things that we hear without deeply understanding and internalising them.

Where Is Green Parrot?
→ The Little Conch
I’m getting ready to go up to Hudson to paint a mural at Sadhana Yoga. I’ve only done a few murals so I’m a little nervous, but excited too. Any large canvas is a freeing experience to create on, and walls are as good as any. Body parts even better!
The theme of the mural is the sacred grafitti found in the holy town of Vrindavan. The divine names of Radha and Krishna are painted there on almost every wall, tree trunk, lamp post and rickshaw hood. For many renunciates that spend their days there, the main service that they perform is to paint and repaint these names with coarse brushes and a small steel tiffin of paint. Sometimes they are painted in English, more often in Sanskrit.
In Hudson, I’ve been asked to paint them in Sanskrit, even though most people that see it won’t be able to read it. Sanskrit is written in a script called Devanagari, said to originate in the heavens. For this reason, the lines themselves are considered to be purifying to look at, even if they are nothing but pretty curves to the beholder. A sacred word, like ‘om’ is considered to be the same in quality, whether written, heard, spoken or just seen.
Aside from divine names, I’m also planning to incorporate another touch of Vrindavan – green parrots! These beautiful birds used to be present everywhere there – screeching and twittering on every branch and phone line. I remember a book I used to read as a little girl – ‘But Where Is Green Parrot?’ These days they hide in real life too, but you can still see the telltale flashes of of electric lime in the trees in the less inhabited areas of Vrindavan. In the stories of Radha and Krishna, they often act as messengers, carrying secrets between friends and lovers or acting as confidantes.
Parrots have the wonderful ability to remember language and repeat it, something that is both celebrated and looked down upon in bhakti yoga teachings. Sukadeva (literally, best of the parrots), the reciter of one of the most important bhakti texts, the Srimad Bhagavatam, is praised for his feat of speaking the text for seven days and nights continuously, imparting the wisdom just as he received it from his teachers. But the same teachings also warn us not to become parrot-like and repeat things that we hear without deeply understanding and internalising them.

A Deeper Understanding of Ahimsa
→ Life Comes From Life
My new article from Beliefnet
Twice a week, as part of our outreach of Hindu culture from our monastery in the East Village, myself and a few other monks teach classes on the art of vegetarian cuisine at Columbia University and New York University. We also try to share some of the essential tenets of the vegetarian/vegan life from some of the great traditional sources of the Vedas, such as the Bhagavad-Gita. We mix in with this knowledge a wide breath of moral, economic, and environmental reasons to support the vegetarian/vegan ideal
We do this with an eye to perhaps convince our friends to try to experience the values and benefits of a vegetarian diet, and for those already on the path, to show them the depth of their commitment and the potential for real change that comes by not eating our fair animal comrades.
My own journey into vegetarianism began with a lot of doubt and a little help from my friends. I was once of those students receiving delicious Indian vegetarian fare from Hindu monks at the University of Michigan, but having come from a different culinary background, the food they offered simply bewildered me. Over time, my monk friends won me over to their heartfelt offerings as they explained more of the culture behind it, and I also just came to realize the food was really, really good.
As I began to explore a commitment to vegetarianism, I had the good fortune of being surrounded by friends who were already engaged as vegetarians and vegans. I was also in a progressive college community where there were plenty of restaurants and groceries which catered to the vegetarian lifestyle. As I moved on into the lifestyle of a Hindu monk, I started to learn how to cook, which helped me to further appreciate the colorful, savoury, and rich depth of the vegetarian cuisine of India and of the rest of the world.
So it is with an immense sense of gratitude from my own end that I now am able to return the favor to all those who guided me towards the vegetarian ideal, by teaching its art and depth of knowledge to some of Manhattan's brightest. At the foundation of our presentation is a unique understanding of the value of ahimsa, or non-violence, as presented in the Gita. Going beyond the foundation of not causing any physical, mental, or psychological harm to any living creature, the deeper understanding of ahimsa lies in the understanding of the progressive, enlightened transmigration of the soul through the process of reincarnation.
The Vedas describe a progressive evolution of the soul through different microbial, plant, and animal forms to the human form of life, which is considered an ideal body for spiritual realization. The soul naturally progresses, by instinct and divine guidance, through increasingly complex forms of life before coming to the human stage. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada, in his translation of the Gita, explains what happens when that progression is stopped by acts of violence:
"Real ahiḿsā means not checking anyone's progressive life. The animals are also making progress in their evolutionary life by transmigrating from one category of animal life to another. If a particular animal is killed, then his progress is checked. If an animal is staying in a particular body for so many days or so many years and is untimely killed, then he has to come back again in that form of life to complete the remaining days in order to be promoted to another species of life. So their progress should not be checked simply to satisfy one's palate. This is called ahiḿsā."
By living a vegetarian lifestyle, we not only refrain from harming our animal friends physically, but also spiritually. Naturally the question arises about plant life, and the potential harm that might be caused to them for the needs of our own body. Of course, we know that some fruits and vegetables fall right from the plant or tree, causing no harm in and of itself. For the other forms of plant life who do give their life for our sustenance, the Hindu tradition tells us that we should prepare and cook these gifts as an offering to God in love and devotion. If done in this mood, God blesses the offering, insuring that the fruits, grains, and vegetables used in the offering continue their spiritual progression.
With our cooking classes, our hope is that our friends there can understand that our offering of vegetarian food has benefits that go beyond the taste buds. We know that the way to a person's heart is through their stomach, and hopefully we can also help them understand that the way to knowledge and respect of the soul also comes through the food that they eat.
Chris Fici is a writer/teacher/monk in the bhakti-yoga tradition. He has been practicing at the Bhaktivedanta Ashram at the Bhakti Center in New York City since 2009. After receiving a degree in film studies at the University of Michigan, Chris began his exploration and study of the bhakti tradition. He currently teaches classes on the culture and art of vegetarian cooking, as well as the living philosophy of the Bhagavad-Gita, at New York University and Columbia University.
A Deeper Understanding of Ahimsa
→ Life Comes From Life
My new article from Beliefnet
Twice a week, as part of our outreach of Hindu culture from our monastery in the East Village, myself and a few other monks teach classes on the art of vegetarian cuisine at Columbia University and New York University. We also try to share some of the essential tenets of the vegetarian/vegan life from some of the great traditional sources of the Vedas, such as the Bhagavad-Gita. We mix in with this knowledge a wide breath of moral, economic, and environmental reasons to support the vegetarian/vegan ideal
We do this with an eye to perhaps convince our friends to try to experience the values and benefits of a vegetarian diet, and for those already on the path, to show them the depth of their commitment and the potential for real change that comes by not eating our fair animal comrades.
My own journey into vegetarianism began with a lot of doubt and a little help from my friends. I was once of those students receiving delicious Indian vegetarian fare from Hindu monks at the University of Michigan, but having come from a different culinary background, the food they offered simply bewildered me. Over time, my monk friends won me over to their heartfelt offerings as they explained more of the culture behind it, and I also just came to realize the food was really, really good.
As I began to explore a commitment to vegetarianism, I had the good fortune of being surrounded by friends who were already engaged as vegetarians and vegans. I was also in a progressive college community where there were plenty of restaurants and groceries which catered to the vegetarian lifestyle. As I moved on into the lifestyle of a Hindu monk, I started to learn how to cook, which helped me to further appreciate the colorful, savoury, and rich depth of the vegetarian cuisine of India and of the rest of the world.
So it is with an immense sense of gratitude from my own end that I now am able to return the favor to all those who guided me towards the vegetarian ideal, by teaching its art and depth of knowledge to some of Manhattan's brightest. At the foundation of our presentation is a unique understanding of the value of ahimsa, or non-violence, as presented in the Gita. Going beyond the foundation of not causing any physical, mental, or psychological harm to any living creature, the deeper understanding of ahimsa lies in the understanding of the progressive, enlightened transmigration of the soul through the process of reincarnation.
The Vedas describe a progressive evolution of the soul through different microbial, plant, and animal forms to the human form of life, which is considered an ideal body for spiritual realization. The soul naturally progresses, by instinct and divine guidance, through increasingly complex forms of life before coming to the human stage. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada, in his translation of the Gita, explains what happens when that progression is stopped by acts of violence:
"Real ahiḿsā means not checking anyone's progressive life. The animals are also making progress in their evolutionary life by transmigrating from one category of animal life to another. If a particular animal is killed, then his progress is checked. If an animal is staying in a particular body for so many days or so many years and is untimely killed, then he has to come back again in that form of life to complete the remaining days in order to be promoted to another species of life. So their progress should not be checked simply to satisfy one's palate. This is called ahiḿsā."
By living a vegetarian lifestyle, we not only refrain from harming our animal friends physically, but also spiritually. Naturally the question arises about plant life, and the potential harm that might be caused to them for the needs of our own body. Of course, we know that some fruits and vegetables fall right from the plant or tree, causing no harm in and of itself. For the other forms of plant life who do give their life for our sustenance, the Hindu tradition tells us that we should prepare and cook these gifts as an offering to God in love and devotion. If done in this mood, God blesses the offering, insuring that the fruits, grains, and vegetables used in the offering continue their spiritual progression.
With our cooking classes, our hope is that our friends there can understand that our offering of vegetarian food has benefits that go beyond the taste buds. We know that the way to a person's heart is through their stomach, and hopefully we can also help them understand that the way to knowledge and respect of the soul also comes through the food that they eat.
Chris Fici is a writer/teacher/monk in the bhakti-yoga tradition. He has been practicing at the Bhaktivedanta Ashram at the Bhakti Center in New York City since 2009. After receiving a degree in film studies at the University of Michigan, Chris began his exploration and study of the bhakti tradition. He currently teaches classes on the culture and art of vegetarian cooking, as well as the living philosophy of the Bhagavad-Gita, at New York University and Columbia University.
Why Suffering And Spirituality Go Hand-In-Hand
→ Life Comes From Life
It's quite natural for those of faith to turn towards God during difficult times. Even if one has a regular spiritual practice, their practice can increase and improve during times of difficulty. After the events of September 11 for example, churches in New York City had some of their largest attendance in quite some time. Why is it that a lot of us have to come to a point of utter hopelessness and desperation before we call out to God? Why is it that even if one doesn't have faith, one may make a last ditch effort to call out to God as well?
When life is treating us good and all is going well, we often don't feel a need for God in our lives. Our material acquisitions -- money, property, friends and family -- become our crutch. As long as we have these things in place, we feel comfortable and don't have a strong need for a spiritual practice.
However, when these things start to fade, we feel a sense of fear and panic come over us.
As a society, we have become so dependent on material things for our happiness that our lives would become completely disrupted without them. When things are on shaky ground, we pray to God to protect what we have. We reach out to God and expect Him to keep things as they are or fix them and make everything all right. God becomes our plumber who's supposed to fix things when they go wrong. This need-based spirituality is all right, but it's a bit superficial.
In the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna (God) lists four basic types of people that turn towards Him. Number one on the list is the "distressed." In case you're wondering, the other three are those that need money, the philosophically inquisitive, and the wise or those who don't want anything from God, except a loving relationship. In the Gita Krishna explains that He welcomes all four types that approach Him, but the one who approaches Him without material motivation is the most dear.
We can tend to use spirituality like medicine or a hospital. We utilize it only when things aren't going right or when we're suffering financially, emotionally or relationally. Our pain and suffering, however, can be a path to transcending this selfish conception of spirituality into something more. It can make us ask the questions we normally wouldn't ask, and can lead us to bigger and broader questions, such "what's really the purpose of life?" and "how can we avoid suffering?"
Unless one starts to ask these questions, one can never truly understand the purpose of life. Even if one does understand philosophically that there's a higher purpose to life, without some suffering, one may not feel the impetus to implement some spiritual practice into their life.
Suffering doesn't necessarily have to be a bad thing. It can help us grow and mature in ways we can't even imagine. It can give us realizations about life which otherwise would be difficult to acquire. I'm not suggesting we go out and look for suffering. Rest assured, it will find its way into our life.
There's a beautiful verse in the Gita, chapter 2 verse 14:
"...the nonpermanent appearance of happiness and distress, and their disappearance in due course, are like the appearance and disappearance of winter and summer seasons...and one must learn to tolerate them without being disturbed."
Difficulties teach us patience, tolerance, acceptance, and ultimately that we're not in complete control of our lives. We can do everything perfectly and things might still not go our way. Some of the greatest teachers within Hinduism demonstrated by their own example that our soul can experience the greatest spiritual growth during challenging times, and they also demonstrated that we can actually thank God for the difficulty.
While undergoing a difficulty one may not be able to fully understand how this is supposed to be beneficial. However, as Steve Jobs said in his commencement speech, you can only connect the dots looking back.
The Vedic texts explain that the soul is a part and parcel of the Supreme. It is qualitatively one but quantitatively different from God, like a spark of fire which has similar qualities to the larger fire, but is insignificant in size compared to the actual fire. Because the soul has this eternal connection to God, it has a natural tendency to reach out to God during difficult times. These opportunities provide the soul, which is stuck in a material body, to again reach out to God and rekindle that relationship.
The help will definitely come, but not always in the ways we expect it to. If the soul can remain faithful even if it appears that God isn't sending the help one is asking for, the soul's union with God is almost guaranteed even within this life.
Follow Gadadhara Pandit Dasa on Twitter: www.twitter.com/nycpandit
Why Suffering And Spirituality Go Hand-In-Hand
→ Life Comes From Life
It's quite natural for those of faith to turn towards God during difficult times. Even if one has a regular spiritual practice, their practice can increase and improve during times of difficulty. After the events of September 11 for example, churches in New York City had some of their largest attendance in quite some time. Why is it that a lot of us have to come to a point of utter hopelessness and desperation before we call out to God? Why is it that even if one doesn't have faith, one may make a last ditch effort to call out to God as well?
When life is treating us good and all is going well, we often don't feel a need for God in our lives. Our material acquisitions -- money, property, friends and family -- become our crutch. As long as we have these things in place, we feel comfortable and don't have a strong need for a spiritual practice.
However, when these things start to fade, we feel a sense of fear and panic come over us.
As a society, we have become so dependent on material things for our happiness that our lives would become completely disrupted without them. When things are on shaky ground, we pray to God to protect what we have. We reach out to God and expect Him to keep things as they are or fix them and make everything all right. God becomes our plumber who's supposed to fix things when they go wrong. This need-based spirituality is all right, but it's a bit superficial.
In the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna (God) lists four basic types of people that turn towards Him. Number one on the list is the "distressed." In case you're wondering, the other three are those that need money, the philosophically inquisitive, and the wise or those who don't want anything from God, except a loving relationship. In the Gita Krishna explains that He welcomes all four types that approach Him, but the one who approaches Him without material motivation is the most dear.
We can tend to use spirituality like medicine or a hospital. We utilize it only when things aren't going right or when we're suffering financially, emotionally or relationally. Our pain and suffering, however, can be a path to transcending this selfish conception of spirituality into something more. It can make us ask the questions we normally wouldn't ask, and can lead us to bigger and broader questions, such "what's really the purpose of life?" and "how can we avoid suffering?"
Unless one starts to ask these questions, one can never truly understand the purpose of life. Even if one does understand philosophically that there's a higher purpose to life, without some suffering, one may not feel the impetus to implement some spiritual practice into their life.
Suffering doesn't necessarily have to be a bad thing. It can help us grow and mature in ways we can't even imagine. It can give us realizations about life which otherwise would be difficult to acquire. I'm not suggesting we go out and look for suffering. Rest assured, it will find its way into our life.
There's a beautiful verse in the Gita, chapter 2 verse 14:
"...the nonpermanent appearance of happiness and distress, and their disappearance in due course, are like the appearance and disappearance of winter and summer seasons...and one must learn to tolerate them without being disturbed."
Difficulties teach us patience, tolerance, acceptance, and ultimately that we're not in complete control of our lives. We can do everything perfectly and things might still not go our way. Some of the greatest teachers within Hinduism demonstrated by their own example that our soul can experience the greatest spiritual growth during challenging times, and they also demonstrated that we can actually thank God for the difficulty.
While undergoing a difficulty one may not be able to fully understand how this is supposed to be beneficial. However, as Steve Jobs said in his commencement speech, you can only connect the dots looking back.
The Vedic texts explain that the soul is a part and parcel of the Supreme. It is qualitatively one but quantitatively different from God, like a spark of fire which has similar qualities to the larger fire, but is insignificant in size compared to the actual fire. Because the soul has this eternal connection to God, it has a natural tendency to reach out to God during difficult times. These opportunities provide the soul, which is stuck in a material body, to again reach out to God and rekindle that relationship.
The help will definitely come, but not always in the ways we expect it to. If the soul can remain faithful even if it appears that God isn't sending the help one is asking for, the soul's union with God is almost guaranteed even within this life.
Follow Gadadhara Pandit Dasa on Twitter: www.twitter.com/nycpandit
Scientific exploration for the Existence of God. By Matsyavatara dasa (Marco Ferrini)
→ Matsya Avatar das adhikari

Scientific exploration for the Existence of God. By Matsyavatara dasa (Marco Ferrini)
→ Matsya Avatar das adhikari

The Strange Art of Relationships
→ Life Comes From Life
Five years ago I began my life as a monk at a Hindu/Vedic temple in the hills of West Virginia. It was the time of my life in which I burst out of the bubble of my previous life, as a middle-class, suburban young man/student from Michigan, into a whole new culture, into the world of responsibility, and the exhilarating and nerve-racking adventure of adult life, with a deeply spiritual twist. Soon after, I experienced the shock of my life.
I began to see that some people in our community, despite them all being deeply sincere spiritual seekers in their own way, were having an incredible time maintaining any semblance of a healthy relationship. In fact, their relationships, despite of, or perhaps because of so much personal history, didn't exist on any kind of healthy level, and that this reality was having a negative permeating effect on the community as a whole.
It was a certain smashing of my own naivete, and for the last five years I have been processing this revelation. I have found the strange art of relationships, both in my own life and in my continued observations of others, to be perhaps the most difficult aspect of any community to grasp, and to keep vibrant and whole. This difficulty is enhanced because without healthy relationships, no community can exist, let alone prosper and grow.
My heart calls me to process my initial sense of shock, and the resultant dislocation and disillusionment that comes from it, if I am going to understand my role as a loving servant of my monastic community here in New York, and of God. Talking today with my friend Charlie, the saintly and wise sage of Boston, we both were appreciating the necessity of this processing.
He said it begins with understanding that perfect and peaceful relationships, without any strife, are a utopian ideal best left aside. What really needs to be done is to appreciate the real growth that can be found in finding the proper perspective, based in a deep patience and selfless love in the midst of the inevitable quarrel and hypocrisy which comes to us in our dealings with each other.
The holy books of the Vedas describe our times indeed as the “age of quarrel and hypocrisy.” Yet the intensity of our time can compel us to truly understand our sacred duty towards each other in the art of the relationship. The Vedic scriptures also describe one who is a madhyama-adhikari, or one who has loving relationships with fellow spiritual seekers, compassion for those who are striving to seek and who need guidance, and who is able to avoid the negative effects of envious or proud people.
This level of consciousness is a transcendent level to raw selfishness, in which one can be in actual contact with one's conscience, the presence of the Divine within guiding us through the winds of our relations.
In his commentary to the classic Vedic text the Bhagavata Purana, renowned Vedic scholar and pioneer Swami Prabhupada expands upon this point:
Recently I have been trying to drag my own conscience up from the dank and grungy space where I have left it. During the recent month of Kartik in our tradition, a time of extended and concentrated introspection and prayer (similar to the times of Lenten or Ramadan, for example), I attempted a meditation to focus on how much I criticize others, either verbally or mentally.
The first and most fundamental realization I gained from this meditation is that my critical facility runs on automatic overdrive. I realized that most of the time, I don't even notice the voice in my head, which also often finds its way into verbal expression, whining, moaning, cajoling, and chastising others for not living up to some standard that I myself don't even live up to.
This is a disease, a mentality which rots to the core any semblance of being able to meaningfully relate to others in a holistic and spiritual way. The experience of this meditation was, and continues to be, a cold shock to my system, yet I am grateful for it. It has heightened my awareness of my surroundings.
For example, in our monastery, we have a small yellow poster taped to the wall near the door. It is the “Four Principles of Community Building” by a renowned and beloved contemporary Vedic scholar and teacher Bhakti Tirtha Swami. I, probably like most others in this monastery, in our sometimes mad rush to do our duties and stay ahead of the clatter of our own minds and the streets of New York City where we live, never really notice this humble yet wonderful document.
Taking the time to consider it now, BT Swami's paeans to the hope we can share together strike a few essential chords to the processing of our conflicts.
Take a gander..
- Treat each person with care as if the success or failure of your own spiritual life depends on this. Do not take into concern how they treat you. The manner in which you treat people is the same way you are treating your spiritual teachers and God.
- Anytime there is a problem in a relationship, you should first see it as your own fault. Even if others are to blame, you will only add to the problem by considering them to be at fault.
- You should treat every person with whom you come in contact with the same care as the person you love the most.
- As we associate with others in our spiritual communities, we should do so in a mood that these are the people I am living with and they would probably also be the people that I leave this body with.
But that is perhaps just my naivete again, mixed with that rancid spice of cynicism. If we look at these principles with an objective lens, a hopeful lens, a courageous and open-hearted lens, we find essential spiritual technologies which can shatter the pride and envy which stand like barbed-wire tip walls between all of us and the healthy, dynamic relationships we desperately need.
These principles will allow us to firmly regain hold of our conscience, or our relationship of communication with the presence of God within us. We need to hear His voice within our heart, if we are to hear how our own voice communicates with others, and how we can also listen properly to what others want to communicate with us.
Otherwise, the dysfunction of our miscommunication robs us of the opportunity to find our voice in His voice. It leaves us mired in the complex state of fear which prevents us from knowing each other, trusting each other, and loving each other in the light of God.
No progress here comes without serious contemplation. Let us step back and really think about the conflicts in our life, and what we need to do to transcend them and allow them to help make our relationships grow. I hope to write an addendum to this piece soon, concentrating more on Bhakti Tirtha Swami's principles, and also some meditations on the need for some conflict, and the need to acknowledge gratitude, as markers towards understanding this strange art of the relationship.
I pray you may find some personal meditations of your own through this offering.
1 A.C Vedanta Swami Prabhupada, Srimad-Bhagavatam (Bhagavat Purana)-Fifth Canto, Chapter 26 (Summary), Bhaktivedanta Book Trust
The Strange Art of Relationships
→ Life Comes From Life
Five years ago I began my life as a monk at a Hindu/Vedic temple in the hills of West Virginia. It was the time of my life in which I burst out of the bubble of my previous life, as a middle-class, suburban young man/student from Michigan, into a whole new culture, into the world of responsibility, and the exhilarating and nerve-racking adventure of adult life, with a deeply spiritual twist. Soon after, I experienced the shock of my life.
I began to see that some people in our community, despite them all being deeply sincere spiritual seekers in their own way, were having an incredible time maintaining any semblance of a healthy relationship. In fact, their relationships, despite of, or perhaps because of so much personal history, didn't exist on any kind of healthy level, and that this reality was having a negative permeating effect on the community as a whole.
It was a certain smashing of my own naivete, and for the last five years I have been processing this revelation. I have found the strange art of relationships, both in my own life and in my continued observations of others, to be perhaps the most difficult aspect of any community to grasp, and to keep vibrant and whole. This difficulty is enhanced because without healthy relationships, no community can exist, let alone prosper and grow.
My heart calls me to process my initial sense of shock, and the resultant dislocation and disillusionment that comes from it, if I am going to understand my role as a loving servant of my monastic community here in New York, and of God. Talking today with my friend Charlie, the saintly and wise sage of Boston, we both were appreciating the necessity of this processing.
He said it begins with understanding that perfect and peaceful relationships, without any strife, are a utopian ideal best left aside. What really needs to be done is to appreciate the real growth that can be found in finding the proper perspective, based in a deep patience and selfless love in the midst of the inevitable quarrel and hypocrisy which comes to us in our dealings with each other.
The holy books of the Vedas describe our times indeed as the “age of quarrel and hypocrisy.” Yet the intensity of our time can compel us to truly understand our sacred duty towards each other in the art of the relationship. The Vedic scriptures also describe one who is a madhyama-adhikari, or one who has loving relationships with fellow spiritual seekers, compassion for those who are striving to seek and who need guidance, and who is able to avoid the negative effects of envious or proud people.
This level of consciousness is a transcendent level to raw selfishness, in which one can be in actual contact with one's conscience, the presence of the Divine within guiding us through the winds of our relations.
In his commentary to the classic Vedic text the Bhagavata Purana, renowned Vedic scholar and pioneer Swami Prabhupada expands upon this point:
Recently I have been trying to drag my own conscience up from the dank and grungy space where I have left it. During the recent month of Kartik in our tradition, a time of extended and concentrated introspection and prayer (similar to the times of Lenten or Ramadan, for example), I attempted a meditation to focus on how much I criticize others, either verbally or mentally.
The first and most fundamental realization I gained from this meditation is that my critical facility runs on automatic overdrive. I realized that most of the time, I don't even notice the voice in my head, which also often finds its way into verbal expression, whining, moaning, cajoling, and chastising others for not living up to some standard that I myself don't even live up to.
This is a disease, a mentality which rots to the core any semblance of being able to meaningfully relate to others in a holistic and spiritual way. The experience of this meditation was, and continues to be, a cold shock to my system, yet I am grateful for it. It has heightened my awareness of my surroundings.
For example, in our monastery, we have a small yellow poster taped to the wall near the door. It is the “Four Principles of Community Building” by a renowned and beloved contemporary Vedic scholar and teacher Bhakti Tirtha Swami. I, probably like most others in this monastery, in our sometimes mad rush to do our duties and stay ahead of the clatter of our own minds and the streets of New York City where we live, never really notice this humble yet wonderful document.
Taking the time to consider it now, BT Swami's paeans to the hope we can share together strike a few essential chords to the processing of our conflicts.
Take a gander..
- Treat each person with care as if the success or failure of your own spiritual life depends on this. Do not take into concern how they treat you. The manner in which you treat people is the same way you are treating your spiritual teachers and God.
- Anytime there is a problem in a relationship, you should first see it as your own fault. Even if others are to blame, you will only add to the problem by considering them to be at fault.
- You should treat every person with whom you come in contact with the same care as the person you love the most.
- As we associate with others in our spiritual communities, we should do so in a mood that these are the people I am living with and they would probably also be the people that I leave this body with.
But that is perhaps just my naivete again, mixed with that rancid spice of cynicism. If we look at these principles with an objective lens, a hopeful lens, a courageous and open-hearted lens, we find essential spiritual technologies which can shatter the pride and envy which stand like barbed-wire tip walls between all of us and the healthy, dynamic relationships we desperately need.
These principles will allow us to firmly regain hold of our conscience, or our relationship of communication with the presence of God within us. We need to hear His voice within our heart, if we are to hear how our own voice communicates with others, and how we can also listen properly to what others want to communicate with us.
Otherwise, the dysfunction of our miscommunication robs us of the opportunity to find our voice in His voice. It leaves us mired in the complex state of fear which prevents us from knowing each other, trusting each other, and loving each other in the light of God.
No progress here comes without serious contemplation. Let us step back and really think about the conflicts in our life, and what we need to do to transcend them and allow them to help make our relationships grow. I hope to write an addendum to this piece soon, concentrating more on Bhakti Tirtha Swami's principles, and also some meditations on the need for some conflict, and the need to acknowledge gratitude, as markers towards understanding this strange art of the relationship.
I pray you may find some personal meditations of your own through this offering.
1 A.C Vedanta Swami Prabhupada, Srimad-Bhagavatam (Bhagavat Purana)-Fifth Canto, Chapter 26 (Summary), Bhaktivedanta Book Trust
On Gita Jayanti
→ NY Times & Bhagavad Gita Sanga/ Sankirtana Das
Where, generations before,
Virtuous Kuru sat in meditation.
The warriors made ready
For victory or the afterlife,
Yet they did not know
How thirsty the fields
Would be for their blood.
On this day, seeing
Friends, relatives and teachers
Opposed before him,
Arjuna felt the burden of his actions,
And his heart ached for them
As the mighty Gandiva
Slipped from his hands,
And tears flowed from his eyes.
On this day, Sri Krishna
Drove Arjuna’s chariot
And laid before him the secret teachings,
And revealed His fearful, cosmic form
And encouraged him to fight,
And yet, see friend and foe alike.
In one instance as He blessed Arjuna,
Krishna blessed us all.
“And I declare that he who studies this sacred conversation worships Me by his intelligence.” Bhagavad Gita 18:70
On Gita Jayanti
→ NY Times & Bhagavad Gita Sanga/ Sankirtana Das
Where, generations before,
Virtuous Kuru sat in meditation.
The warriors made ready
For victory or the afterlife,
Yet they did not know
How thirsty the fields
Would be for their blood.
On this day, seeing
Friends, relatives and teachers
Opposed before him,
Arjuna felt the burden of his actions,
And his heart ached for them
As the mighty Gandiva
Slipped from his hands,
And tears flowed from his eyes.
On this day, Sri Krishna
Drove Arjuna’s chariot
And laid before him the secret teachings,
And revealed His fearful, cosmic form
And encouraged him to fight,
And yet, see friend and foe alike.
In one instance as He blessed Arjuna,
Krishna blessed us all.
“And I declare that he who studies this sacred conversation worships Me by his intelligence.” Bhagavad Gita 18:70
Gaura-Shakti & Friends Get in the Kitchen!
→ Gaura-Shakti Kirtan Yoga
For many of our volunteers, it was their first time in the temple's kitchen and so they got a chance to learn about the high standards of the temple kitchen. It was explained to them how cooking in the temple kitchen is a meditative experience and that the kitchen is looked upon as belonging to Srimati Radharani - Lord Krishna's divine feminine energy. So it was a fun learning experience for all.
It also was a wonderful bonding experience for both Gaura-Shakti members and our friends. We are already looking forward to cooking many more Sunday Feasts with different menus. Here's a fun little behind-the-scenes look at what was certainly a special experience!
Gaura-Shakti & Friends Get in the Kitchen!
→ Gaura-Shakti Kirtan Yoga
For many of our volunteers, it was their first time in the temple's kitchen and so they got a chance to learn about the high standards of the temple kitchen. It was explained to them how cooking in the temple kitchen is a meditative experience and that the kitchen is looked upon as belonging to Srimati Radharani - Lord Krishna's divine feminine energy. So it was a fun learning experience for all.
It also was a wonderful bonding experience for both Gaura-Shakti members and our friends. We are already looking forward to cooking many more Sunday Feasts with different menus. Here's a fun little behind-the-scenes look at what was certainly a special experience!
Album #32: Rajashree Chintak Behera
→ Bhakti Centre Gold Coast
Date: 19th November 2011
Rajashree Behera performed Oddissi Cultural Dance at Bhakti Centre. She explained each item before the performing the Ganesh Tandava and the Nine Moods of Human as in the Ramayan. The local Devotees enjoyed the wonderful performance and her dance expressions.
Rajashree Chintak Behera is one of the brilliant exponents of the Odissi dance. Rajashree’s dance is marked by gaiety, lyricism and beauty. She is trained under Guru Durga Charan Ranbir and Guru Harihar Mohanty in the Odissi style of Late Guru Durga Debaprasad Das. She is a holder of Bisarada Purna in Odissi Dance from Akhila Bharatiya Gandharva Mahavidyalaya Mandal, Mumbai, as well as a Master in Economics from Utkal University, Bhubaneswar.
Accolades
Widely acclaimed Solo Danseuse
Recognized as “A” grade Dancer by Orissa Sangeet Natak Akademi
An ‘A’ grade artiste in DoorDarshan
Recipient of Govt. of India Scholarship (Junior and Senior), Department of Culture
Govt. of India Junior Fellowship in Classical Dance, 1993-1995
Apna Utsav, New Delhi, 1986
Yuvs Utsav, Jaipur, 1988
Nritya Pratibha, New Delhi, 1988
Yuva Nritya Samaroha, Jodhpur, 1989
Ghungroo Dance Festival, Bhopal, 1993
Konark Dance Festival, Orissa, 1995
Barabati Nrityotsav, Orissa, 2005
Mukteswar Dance Festival, 2006
Dhauli Mahotsav, 2006
International Odissi Festival, Bhubaneswar, 2006 Abroad
Ethnic Center and Australasia House, Perth, Australia, 1987
China, 1989
North Korea, 1989
Tashkent, Uzbekistan, 1990
Oxford, U.K., 1995
Sofia and Plovdiv, Bulgaria, 1998 and 1999
International Folklore Festival, Bulgaria, 1999
Budapest Farewell Festival, Hungary, 1999
Performance in Germany, 1999
International Odissi Festival, USA, 2003
Lecture Demonstration and Performance, Indiana State University, USA, 2002
Performances and Choreography of Dance Drama for Oriya Convention in Maryland and New Jersey, USA, 2002 and 2003

The Times of India (New Delhi)
“…Confident and with a powerful presence. Rajashree was almost a natural in portraying the Rudra Roop of Shiva. For her, the effort was greater in depicting the peaceful Shankar. She used to advantage her flexible body for greater dramatic impact, especially in the end when the chanting of ‘OM NAMAH SHIVAYA’ was casting a hypnotic spell on the audience…”
The National Courier 5 (Sofia, Bulgaria) “…Mrs. Rajashree Behera who is one of the famous, youngest and gorgeous performer of Odissi and who had carved out a place for herself in the world of classical dance in India…” Rajashree resides in Moscow, Russia with her husband, Dr. Subhakanta Behera (I.F.S.) and two children, Ananya and Amruta, and serves as a cultural ambassador of our country, trying to spread the Odissi Dance among the Russian dance lovers. She may be contacted at buini@yahoo.co.uk
Paper Prayers
→ The Little Conch
My friend Jennifer Mazzucco just sent me this beautiful video about Tashi Mannox, an English calligraphy artist. I loved hearing his eloquent thoughts on creating devotional art that doesn’t preach, but just tries to communicate philosophy and ideas that will uplift people. Tashi said that he feels the responsibility of an artist or musician is to uplift everyone they come in contact with.
Jennifer and I are creating a devotional art workshop together that we’ll be presenting for the first time at the Kripalu centre this winter. Our aim is to explore the process of creating devotional art – how getting creative opens us up to a deeper sense of connection with the soul and the Divine, and how this act of creation can teach us so much about the joy of focus and detachment.
In other news, I’m in DC right now spending time in the recording studio with Gaura Vani. We’re working on new music that encompasses both kirtan and Sanskrit mantras, as well as original English lyrics. It’s a fun process, but very new to me also. Music can be so spontaneous and free flowing, and this suits the organic, immediate nature of prayer so well. In crafting something and attempting to capture it, it can be hard to retain the original feeling. Throughout, we must constantly remember that imperfection is inevitable – the creative spark that flares into a small, bright flame is only a tiny speck of divine beauty, and we are fortunate if we can hold it for even a moment.

Soul-utions
→ Trying to reach a state of equilibrium....

Cave Glow Worms
→ Unplugged Ice
Somehow or other, insects are uncontrollably attracted to that glow worm ass-light and are snared before being eaten alive. The glow worm thus gains its audience and subsequently devours it. And so it subsists on the misfortunes of others who have uncontrollable senses that drag them to its ass-light. But in the end, it is unable to do anything that is of benefit for anyone while it maintains the notion that there is a light that shines out of its ass.
The analogies that can be drawn from this are eerily pertinent. For example:
“These so-called glow-worms, they'll not be able to do anything. That's a fact. Don't remain a glow-worm. Just become a sun and moon.” [SP: SB 1.15.1 Lecture NY 29/11/73]
Cave Glow Worms
→ Unplugged Ice
Somehow or other, insects are uncontrollably attracted to that glow worm ass-light and are snared before being eaten alive. The glow worm thus gains its audience and subsequently devours it. And so it subsists on the misfortunes of others who have uncontrollable senses that drag them to its ass-light. But in the end, it is unable to do anything that is of benefit for anyone while it maintains the notion that there is a light that shines out of its ass.
The analogies that can be drawn from this are eerily pertinent. For example:
“These so-called glow-worms, they'll not be able to do anything. That's a fact. Don't remain a glow-worm. Just become a sun and moon.” [SP: SB 1.15.1 Lecture NY 29/11/73]
This Side or That
→ A Convenient Truth

We spend so much time in the external, material energy of God (Sri Krishna) that the internal world becomes something of an imaginary prospect. The concrete world that I perceive with my material senses is infinitely more real to me than Vaikuntha or Goloka Vrindavan. It's ironic that this temporary, ephemeral material world seems more real to me than that internal world which is eternal and unchanging.
How we spend our time affects how we perceive reality. If we spend all of our time absorbed in the external, material energy then we will identify with it and become caught up in all of its changes, transformations and complexities. We will become completely convinced that we are these material, physical bodies and subtle minds. We will become convinced that we are the temporary personality that we currently happen to be. In other words, we will be in total, complete ignorance about our real identity as spiritual energy, spiritual beings.
Conversely, if we spend our time absorbed in the internal energy (through associating with and serving advanced, realized souls, hearing from them and the sastras (Vedic scriptures), chanting the Holy Name, etc.) then we will come closer to that side of reality and begin to experience those higher truths.
I've experienced both sides of this coin. I've lived in the temple/ashram as a celibate monk, fully absorbed in Krishna Conscious/devotional/spiritual activities and I've also moved out of the ashram and gone full force back into the external, material energy and the world of sense gratification. Each world has its own peculiar set of good and bad, happiness and struggles.
I was never truly happy when I moved out of the ashram. There was always a sense of discontent and of wasting my time in activities that had no meaning or purpose. At the same time, living in the ashram was becoming boring and mechanical. My Guru Maharaja once told me that I was something like a ghost, caught inbetween two worlds, not fully committing to either side. This is my plight even up to the present day.
Is this not the nature of human consciousness? Sometimes moving towards the non-material, spiritual side of things and at other times gravitating towards sense gratification? The spiritualist is engaged in a constant struggle against their lower nature and desires. Being absorbed in the material we cultivate a material consciousness full of self-centered ideas and goals. Being absorbed in the spiritual we cultivate selflessness, service and devotional ecstasy. The latter moves us closer to realizing our true, eternal identity in relationship with the Divine Source of all existence.
If I step back from my existence and look at it from an objective view point I can see just how much time I waste. The mind enjoys habit and being pleasure seeking we fall into patterns and routines that afford us the most amount of "instant gratification". I find myself wandering on the internet, going on eBay or Facebook or some comic book website and searching for some kind of enjoyment. But all of these things are simply reinforcing my illusion that I am my body and that I'll be here forever. Why don't I instead use my time to cultivate the internal, spiritual, eternal side of my existence?
I find no motivation, no enthusiasm to pursue that side of things. I know it's important, I know I'm going to die and yet the urgency is lacking. I am completely covered by illusion, completely covered over by this material energy.
That spiritual, internal, eternal side of existence will forever remain hidden from me if I continue on identifying with the material and pursuing sense gratification. But the attachment and material identification are so strong and difficult to break. There's no way we can do it alone or by our own power. This is the wonder of the mercy of Sri Guru/Sri Nityananda Prabu. Through their causeless mercy we are brought up into that higher quarter, even though we are so unqualified and contaminated.
I pray to Sri Nityananda Prabhu to never give up on me and to forcibly push me towards the internal world. In Kali-yuga we have no other recourse and no other hope.
This Side or That
→ A Convenient Truth

We spend so much time in the external, material energy of God (Sri Krishna) that the internal world becomes something of an imaginary prospect. The concrete world that I perceive with my material senses is infinitely more real to me than Vaikuntha or Goloka Vrindavan. It's ironic that this temporary, ephemeral material world seems more real to me than that internal world which is eternal and unchanging.
How we spend our time affects how we perceive reality. If we spend all of our time absorbed in the external, material energy then we will identify with it and become caught up in all of its changes, transformations and complexities. We will become completely convinced that we are these material, physical bodies and subtle minds. We will become convinced that we are the temporary personality that we currently happen to be. In other words, we will be in total, complete ignorance about our real identity as spiritual energy, spiritual beings.
Conversely, if we spend our time absorbed in the internal energy (through associating with and serving advanced, realized souls, hearing from them and the sastras (Vedic scriptures), chanting the Holy Name, etc.) then we will come closer to that side of reality and begin to experience those higher truths.
I've experienced both sides of this coin. I've lived in the temple/ashram as a celibate monk, fully absorbed in Krishna Conscious/devotional/spiritual activities and I've also moved out of the ashram and gone full force back into the external, material energy and the world of sense gratification. Each world has its own peculiar set of good and bad, happiness and struggles.
I was never truly happy when I moved out of the ashram. There was always a sense of discontent and of wasting my time in activities that had no meaning or purpose. At the same time, living in the ashram was becoming boring and mechanical. My Guru Maharaja once told me that I was something like a ghost, caught inbetween two worlds, not fully committing to either side. This is my plight even up to the present day.
Is this not the nature of human consciousness? Sometimes moving towards the non-material, spiritual side of things and at other times gravitating towards sense gratification? The spiritualist is engaged in a constant struggle against their lower nature and desires. Being absorbed in the material we cultivate a material consciousness full of self-centered ideas and goals. Being absorbed in the spiritual we cultivate selflessness, service and devotional ecstasy. The latter moves us closer to realizing our true, eternal identity in relationship with the Divine Source of all existence.
If I step back from my existence and look at it from an objective view point I can see just how much time I waste. The mind enjoys habit and being pleasure seeking we fall into patterns and routines that afford us the most amount of "instant gratification". I find myself wandering on the internet, going on eBay or Facebook or some comic book website and searching for some kind of enjoyment. But all of these things are simply reinforcing my illusion that I am my body and that I'll be here forever. Why don't I instead use my time to cultivate the internal, spiritual, eternal side of my existence?
I find no motivation, no enthusiasm to pursue that side of things. I know it's important, I know I'm going to die and yet the urgency is lacking. I am completely covered by illusion, completely covered over by this material energy.
That spiritual, internal, eternal side of existence will forever remain hidden from me if I continue on identifying with the material and pursuing sense gratification. But the attachment and material identification are so strong and difficult to break. There's no way we can do it alone or by our own power. This is the wonder of the mercy of Sri Guru/Sri Nityananda Prabu. Through their causeless mercy we are brought up into that higher quarter, even though we are so unqualified and contaminated.
I pray to Sri Nityananda Prabhu to never give up on me and to forcibly push me towards the internal world. In Kali-yuga we have no other recourse and no other hope.
The Space of Faith
→ Life Comes From Life
In the style of Mertonian homage, a simple meditation on thoughts, ideas, and realizations from our discussion of "Thoughts in Solitude" by Thomas Merton at our recent meeting of the Bhakti Center Book Club
We find a great, if unhealthy, solace in simply remaining in the role of the observer, yet the practical demands of this world, and the practical orders of the great teachers who carry us forward, demand that we transcend the restraints of the observer. They demand we come down from the clouds of our head-space into the ground of our heart-space.
In this ground of our heart, we come to understand the deeper truth of solitude, found in the acceptance, understanding, and communion with everyone else's solitude. We cannot accept how alone we are, how much pain we feel, how much joy we are capable of, and the presence of the Divine in our own heart until we can gradually see all these things in the heart of everyone else. The feeling of liberation we receive upon this revelation transcends all the fear and hesitation that ruins our ability to fully communicate with each other.
Having this revelation, we fully understand the meaning of solitude and silence in our own being, because the reality of who we are becomes incredibly clear, reflected with such illumination from the hearts of everyone else.
The pillars of greed, lust, envy, and all the other fantasies of the selfish heart has made our civilization barren practically to its core. Yet this is all a projection and reflection of the more imposing desert we face within our own heart, which is the source of all the anxiety we face in our individual and collective lives. This imposition from within has created the tangle of contradictions which we rage against, or which we die quietly but so painfully from.
The first instinct upon facing our contradictions is to run away as fast as we can, to dive into the spirits of our comforts. The experience of our actual consciousness is so painful, so nauseating, so disorienting, that most of us (myself especially) are still stuck in the energy of that initial instinct to flee, unable to go any further on the walk through the desert of the heart.
We are stuck once again on the observation deck, attempting to re-strategize for the next assault, but we are missing one great tool, one great weapon, which is found in the silence of our own heart. It is the space of our faith, where we understand that God is always carrying us and always protecting us, especially in the greatest tribulations and purification. In this space, feeling the warm embrace of our Beloved holding us close, we gain the proper perspective.
The great sage of solitude, Thomas Merton, explains this perspective:
Humility is not necessarily we are meant to enjoy, yet there is a certain and sure pleasure which comes in the genuinely humble moment. It is when we turn the simple glory of that moment into an inauthentic construct of pride that we lose control of what has been given to us. To be vigilant in our humility actually means to be vigilant against the pride within us.
Another paradox of the humble cloth is that it is best represented in the most obvious action, rather than a passive tolerance or non-violence. By the most obvious action I mean, in the spiritual context, the most selfless and most needed action to be done, considering the time, place, and circumstance. This action remains clothed in humility when it does not reinforce our "hero construct", or the self-obsession of our prideful mind.
If we can absorb these concepts through our intelligence into our heart, and if we pray for courage and guidance from our teachers and friends, our spiritual life truly opens into the solitary spaces of our inner life, into our space of faith, with the silence of our embrace with God against the raging of our mind/body and of our society's endless noise brigades.
We finally receive what we have always wanted, an embrace that will always stay with us and not be like the empty gestures which has left our heart crusted with grief. We will be alone, but united. Silent, but dancing to the ecstatic rhythms of the Lord's steps, and our struggle will be renewed and strengthened.
The Space of Faith
→ Life Comes From Life
In the style of Mertonian homage, a simple meditation on thoughts, ideas, and realizations from our discussion of "Thoughts in Solitude" by Thomas Merton at our recent meeting of the Bhakti Center Book Club
We find a great, if unhealthy, solace in simply remaining in the role of the observer, yet the practical demands of this world, and the practical orders of the great teachers who carry us forward, demand that we transcend the restraints of the observer. They demand we come down from the clouds of our head-space into the ground of our heart-space.
In this ground of our heart, we come to understand the deeper truth of solitude, found in the acceptance, understanding, and communion with everyone else's solitude. We cannot accept how alone we are, how much pain we feel, how much joy we are capable of, and the presence of the Divine in our own heart until we can gradually see all these things in the heart of everyone else. The feeling of liberation we receive upon this revelation transcends all the fear and hesitation that ruins our ability to fully communicate with each other.
Having this revelation, we fully understand the meaning of solitude and silence in our own being, because the reality of who we are becomes incredibly clear, reflected with such illumination from the hearts of everyone else.
The pillars of greed, lust, envy, and all the other fantasies of the selfish heart has made our civilization barren practically to its core. Yet this is all a projection and reflection of the more imposing desert we face within our own heart, which is the source of all the anxiety we face in our individual and collective lives. This imposition from within has created the tangle of contradictions which we rage against, or which we die quietly but so painfully from.
The first instinct upon facing our contradictions is to run away as fast as we can, to dive into the spirits of our comforts. The experience of our actual consciousness is so painful, so nauseating, so disorienting, that most of us (myself especially) are still stuck in the energy of that initial instinct to flee, unable to go any further on the walk through the desert of the heart.
We are stuck once again on the observation deck, attempting to re-strategize for the next assault, but we are missing one great tool, one great weapon, which is found in the silence of our own heart. It is the space of our faith, where we understand that God is always carrying us and always protecting us, especially in the greatest tribulations and purification. In this space, feeling the warm embrace of our Beloved holding us close, we gain the proper perspective.
The great sage of solitude, Thomas Merton, explains this perspective:
Humility is not necessarily we are meant to enjoy, yet there is a certain and sure pleasure which comes in the genuinely humble moment. It is when we turn the simple glory of that moment into an inauthentic construct of pride that we lose control of what has been given to us. To be vigilant in our humility actually means to be vigilant against the pride within us.
Another paradox of the humble cloth is that it is best represented in the most obvious action, rather than a passive tolerance or non-violence. By the most obvious action I mean, in the spiritual context, the most selfless and most needed action to be done, considering the time, place, and circumstance. This action remains clothed in humility when it does not reinforce our "hero construct", or the self-obsession of our prideful mind.
If we can absorb these concepts through our intelligence into our heart, and if we pray for courage and guidance from our teachers and friends, our spiritual life truly opens into the solitary spaces of our inner life, into our space of faith, with the silence of our embrace with God against the raging of our mind/body and of our society's endless noise brigades.
We finally receive what we have always wanted, an embrace that will always stay with us and not be like the empty gestures which has left our heart crusted with grief. We will be alone, but united. Silent, but dancing to the ecstatic rhythms of the Lord's steps, and our struggle will be renewed and strengthened.
Patience and Enthusiasm
→ kirtaniyah sada hari
In our Vaisnava tradition enthusiasm is one of the cornerstones that our bhakti journey should rest upon. I’ve always found it quizzical when the inevitable question comes up “How does one become enthusiastic?” There are several responses I’ve heard over the years but the one that always stands out is “Associate with those who are enthusiastic.”
Being enthusiastic, however, is not so difficult. One naturally becomes enthusiastic about something that motivates them, inspires them or enlivens them. I would argue that maintaining enthusiasm in our day to day sadhana and services is what is more challenging. It’s easy to feel enthusiastic for a second, an hour, a day or perhaps even a week. But we, in the line of the great Vaisnava acaryas, aspire for more. We aspire for lifetime upon lifetime of consistent and ever increasing enthusiasm to not only serve Krsna but to serve the Vaisnavas.
In a lecture I was recently listening to, the dual workings of patience and enthusiasm was highlighted and as the proverbial saying goes a light bulb finally went on in my head. I’ve often found it almost contradictory that both of these qualities are extremely important in the cultivation of bhakti. In my experience, being enthusiastic often results in me wanting something right now, whereas patience requires just that- patience which is something that I firmly believe Krsna has on his priority list for me to acquire right along with humility!
However, as was explained in the lecture, having one without the other can lead to a recipe for disaster. If one is simply patient and waits and waits and waits without investing any action, nothing will come of it. Conversely, if one is extremely enthusiastic and is not patient then if the results of one’s endeavor do not come immediately, one may become disheartened and give up altogether.
It is often proclaimed “Work as though everything depends upon you and pray knowing everything is dependent upon God (Krsna).” In that one sentence one can find patience and enthusiasm as the underlying seeds which need to be planted in order for the flower of Krsna bhakti to blossom. In fact, it will lead us to the coveted goal we should all aspire towards- steadiness in service, in sadhana and in our consciousness of Krsna at all times.
So the next time you feel yourself getting extremely enthusiastic or feel as though Krsna may be testing you by making you wait for something, remember that it’s not just patience or just enthusiasm that are required to advance. It’s both.
Patience and Enthusiasm
→ kirtaniyah sada hari
In our Vaisnava tradition enthusiasm is one of the cornerstones that our bhakti journey should rest upon. I’ve always found it quizzical when the inevitable question comes up “How does one become enthusiastic?” There are several responses I’ve heard over the years but the one that always stands out is “Associate with those who are enthusiastic.”
Being enthusiastic, however, is not so difficult. One naturally becomes enthusiastic about something that motivates them, inspires them or enlivens them. I would argue that maintaining enthusiasm in our day to day sadhana and services is what is more challenging. It’s easy to feel enthusiastic for a second, an hour, a day or perhaps even a week. But we, in the line of the great Vaisnava acaryas, aspire for more. We aspire for lifetime upon lifetime of consistent and ever increasing enthusiasm to not only serve Krsna but to serve the Vaisnavas.
In a lecture I was recently listening to, the dual workings of patience and enthusiasm was highlighted and as the proverbial saying goes a light bulb finally went on in my head. I’ve often found it almost contradictory that both of these qualities are extremely important in the cultivation of bhakti. In my experience, being enthusiastic often results in me wanting something right now, whereas patience requires just that- patience which is something that I firmly believe Krsna has on his priority list for me to acquire right along with humility!
However, as was explained in the lecture, having one without the other can lead to a recipe for disaster. If one is simply patient and waits and waits and waits without investing any action, nothing will come of it. Conversely, if one is extremely enthusiastic and is not patient then if the results of one’s endeavor do not come immediately, one may become disheartened and give up altogether.
It is often proclaimed “Work as though everything depends upon you and pray knowing everything is dependent upon God (Krsna).” In that one sentence one can find patience and enthusiasm as the underlying seeds which need to be planted in order for the flower of Krsna bhakti to blossom. In fact, it will lead us to the coveted goal we should all aspire towards- steadiness in service, in sadhana and in our consciousness of Krsna at all times.
So the next time you feel yourself getting extremely enthusiastic or feel as though Krsna may be testing you by making you wait for something, remember that it’s not just patience or just enthusiasm that are required to advance. It’s both.
ISKCON Loses 26 2nd Avenue
→ Life Comes From Life
Yadunath das
Treasurer, 26 2nd Avenue
ISKCON Loses 26 2nd Avenue
→ Life Comes From Life
Yadunath das
Treasurer, 26 2nd Avenue
Album #31: The Mayapuris
→ Bhakti Centre Gold Coast
Date: 30th October 2011
Bhakti Centre Gold Coast purchased a Clay Mrdanga to be used for the Mayapuris Tour during the Northern Programs of their Australian Tour. Due to popular demand the Gold Coast program were performed at the following venues, explosion of spiritual dance and music :
Wednesday 26th October 6.30pm - Bhakti Centre Gold Coast, Surfers Paradise Thursday 27th October 6.00pm - Surf Life Savings Club, Broadbeach Sunday 30th October 10.30am – Harinama in Burleigh Heads Sunday 30th October 1.00pm – Centre Stage, Caville Ave, Surfers Paradise Sunday 30th October 6.30pm – Peace Yoga Centre, Burleigh Heads All door donations at this Event was donated by Peace Yoga to their wonderful community work in IndiaThe Mayapuris 2011 Tour Teaser
The Mayapuris have crash-landed into the kirtan/chant genre, quickly becoming the most talked-about group in this growing scene of exotic world music. Their story starts in the quiet backcountry of North Central Florida, Alachua, a small village-esque town known to some as the capital of the underground grassroots-kirtan movement in the West. India 2001: The Mayapuris were teenagers fresh out of international boarding school where they trained in kirtan, a musical art form that has existed for thousands of years. They wanted the sound of their thunderous mridanga drums to shake the globe. Naming their group after the holy village of Mayapur, where the kirtan movement started, The Mayapuris traveled the world enthusing crowds with their dynamic drum dances and kirtan performances. In the summer of 2009, Mantralogy, a division of Equal Vision Records, signed The Mayapuris and placed them in the studio with kirtan producer Gaura Vani (As Kindred Spirits, Prema Hara, Ramya). Their debut album Mridanga (June 22, 2010/Mantralogy) brings a youthful and hip new energy to kirtan. “Rhythm is a universal language,” explains the Mayapuri drummer, Bali, “It transcends all external barriers. Everything. Race, religion, tongue, creed, culture. It’s the heartbeat of the universe.” The Mayapuris are unique in that they all originally were drummers before they became kirtan multi-instrumentalists. Their music is driven by rhythm. It’s the language they speak best. The Mayapuris are travelers, kirtan gypsies, the breed of performers who stop keeping count of how many countries they’ve performed in. They hit six continents in 2009, and that was before they had a CD to call their own. After their first album drops, who knows? “There is a small village in India, about an hour outside of Mayapur that holds this prophecy. It’s about two hundred years old,” the lead singer Vish explains, “It says that the thunder of the mridanga drum will resonate throughout the entire world. We want to be a part of that.” The Mayapuris named their album after their shared love, the mridanga, and it is the heartbeat of their sound. Joined to its rhythm is the stirring musicianship that evolved after years of training, classical instrumentation mixed with the spontaneity of fiery vocals, a place where funk meets math and melody to produce beautiful music. Gaura Vani, accomplished producer and recording artist, captured their unique and powerful sound in the studio. “We couldn’t have had a better person to work with, “Kish, the group’s flute player says, “We’ve been doing music with Gaura since we were teens. He knows us, he gets us. He has a great ear and his arrangements are deep and tasteful. Gaura is the kind of producer who really brings the best out of the people he works with.” This is not saying that the production was an easy job. The Mayapuris come from a musical background that is as varied as it is unexpected. Vish was in a Boston hardcore punk band after returning from India. When Kish isn’t studying classical Hindustani flute he’s grooving to reggae. Bali was the front man and lyricist for a hip hop group while immersing himself in South Indian Carnatic drumming. And Vrinda cites Michael Jackson as one of the greatest musical/dance influences in her life (this coming from someone who studied in the ‘Ivy League’ of South Indian classical dance). Together they invoke the influence of an international community of musical spirit: Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan meets a 21st century group of musical upstarts. “The great thing about world music is its accessibility.” Vrinda says, “It doesn’t matter where you come from, what language you speak, your cultural background. This kind of music speaks to everyone. Our goal was to make an album that reaches into that common bond the citizens of earth all share, a love for beautiful sound.” “Our music is the hybrid offspring of our upbringing,” Bali adds, “Mridanga grooves, it builds, it’s an ancient tradition with a fresh spirit.” This is more than a kirtan album, it’s a life story broken up into chapters. It represents the Mayapuris; who they are and what kind of sound they embody. “Our music is infused with emotion, with passion, love, playfulness. We’ve grown up with it. We live it,” says Kish, “The band, the album, the shows…they are an offering. We love making music. We love being Mayapuris.”A Poem For Srila Prabhupada On His Disappearance Day
→ NY Times & Bhagavad Gita Sanga/ Sankirtana Das
You are a treasure
Who has brought the Treasure
You are eternally wakeful,
Calling the sleepers to awaken
You are the Vaikuntha traveler
Transversing the world
First in your vapu and then your vani
You are the most precious cargo of the Jaladhuta
You are the divine dancer of GaurHari
You are the smasher of impersonalism
The pounder of the false ego
You are the proclaim-er
Of the yuga dharma
You are the stirrer of souls
The speaker of countless words of wisdom
The savior of wayward lives,
The fixer of calamities
The mender of broken hearts
The vendor of the Holy Name
You are the lighthouse
In the dark waters of the kaliyuga
You are the bringer of Govinda’s love
You do not see who is fit or unfit
You are the beggar
Bestowing the greatest gift
To all who will take it.
A Poem For Srila Prabhupada On His Disappearance Day
→ NY Times & Bhagavad Gita Sanga/ Sankirtana Das
You are a treasure
Who has brought the Treasure
You are eternally wakeful,
Calling the sleepers to awaken
You are the Vaikuntha traveler
Transversing the world
First in your vapu and then your vani
You are the most precious cargo of the Jaladhuta
You are the divine dancer of GaurHari
You are the smasher of impersonalism
The pounder of the false ego
You are the proclaim-er
Of the yuga dharma
You are the stirrer of souls
The speaker of countless words of wisdom
The savior of wayward lives,
The fixer of calamities
The mender of broken hearts
The vendor of the Holy Name
You are the lighthouse
In the dark waters of the kaliyuga
You are the bringer of Govinda’s love
You do not see who is fit or unfit
You are the beggar
Bestowing the greatest gift
To all who will take it.
How to Make a Mountain
→ The Little Conch
It’s that time of year again. Today is Govardhan Puja, when we remember Sri Krishna’s incredible lifting of a sacred mountain in Vrindavan. In the Vaishnava calendar there are so many festivals and as the years go by they stack on top of one another like layers of sediment. I imagine my life so far as a rock – each layer a testament to the moments that I spent thinking about Krishna – the thick, densely packed areas, or not – those are the crumbling parts.
I can remember so many distinct Govardhan pujas – many spent in the soggy English October, inside a white marquee, huddling in front of blow heaters while we listened to narrations of the amazing story. As children one of our favourite parts of the day was the creation of ‘the hill’. This is a giant mound of sweets, dressed to mimic Govardhan Hill – usually complete with ponds of honey, boulders made of milk sweets and bright green shredded coconut for grass. The hill would be covered with plastic animals – deer, birds and lots of cows. After everyone had performed the puja of walking around the hill three times, the sweets would start to be handed out, and along with them, the plastic animals. My toy cupboards at home were full of the most prized- the cows. My small herd grew each year, and I would eagerly look forward to each year’s festival, when I would wait with hands outstretched as a priest plucked animals off the mound and dropped them into the reaching palms of all the kids.
So why build a hill of sweets? It’s definitely fun, but deeper than that, it’s just one way to remember the miraculous activities of Krishna, and help our love for him to grow. It’s also a beautiful way to celebrate Govardhan Hill, also known as Giriraj – the king of mountains. In Krishna’s world, everyone has personality – nothing is just stone, or just a tree. Everything is full of life, full of love, full of desire to serve. Giriraj is considered to be one of the greatest servants of Krishna, since he limitlessly gives the bounty of his forests, waterfalls, minerals and more to the villagers of Vrindavan.
Last year I spent Govardhan Puja in Vrindavan, where it is extra special, since the real Govardhan Hill is only miles away. In the central courtyard of the Krishna Balaram temple, I stood on a raised platform with six other girls, scooping handfuls of scorching, fragrant halava and pressing them onto the plastic covered frame of the hill. Our hands quickly became tender, burnt by the steam, and we slid about as the hot ghee oozed from the mound around our feet. In the meantime, raucous, joyful kirtan thundered away. The following week, I was staying at the foot of Govardhan itself. It was one of the most sacred, deep experiences of my life. Each day I would wake and watch the sun light pass over the rocky face of the hill, and after a day absorbed in chanting and hearing about Krishna, I would sit in a small grove of trees and listen to the night songs of the crickets. I never believed I would really feel that a hill was a person, but after seven days, I felt his deep presence, blessing all who came near him to pray.
At the end of my time there, I built a tiny house of stones. Some people do this to pray to Giriraj for a safe, happy home to live in, but I prayed that however long it took, I may one day live there in that sacred place. These days I stay in Manhattan on the 21st floor. Outside my windows the tops of towering buildings remind me of his ridges and peaks, and I realise that whether here or there, his blessings are near.
