Planet ISKCON

Some time back, an idea of Gaura-Shakti & Friends cooking for a Sunday Feast at Toronto's famous Hare Krishna Centre was thrown out onto the table!  Everyone loved the idea, arrangements were made and the date was booked for Sunday, November 13, 2011.

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.

Lately we’ve been hearing a lot about all the problems with our world with the occupy this, that or the other. Yet not many folks are proposing solutions. This is the fallacy I’m finding with most of the new movements out there. So in response to that I’ve comprised a short list of actions to […]

The cave glow worm hangs silken fishing lines made of its own mucus from the roof of its cave to catch its prey. It then literally hangs from a mucus hammock and waits. There is a chemical reaction in a capsule at the end of its body that emits a blue glow. So, literally, the light shines out of its ass. When you stand at the bottom of a cave and look up at the mass of lights a colony of these glow worms make, there is little to distinguish one from the other. Each is insignificant in relation to the whole mass, let alone to the sun outside of the cave. But when you zoom into one of these unfortunate creatures, you will find an individual who thinks that the light shines out of its ass. Thus, the whole colony is made up of an en-mass unfortunate notion that the light shines out of my ass.

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]

The cave glow worm hangs silken fishing lines made of its own mucus from the roof of its cave to catch its prey. It then literally hangs from a mucus hammock and waits. There is a chemical reaction in a capsule at the end of its body that emits a blue glow. So, literally, the light shines out of its ass. When you stand at the bottom of a cave and look up at the mass of lights a colony of these glow worms make, there is little to distinguish one from the other. Each is insignificant in relation to the whole mass, let alone to the sun outside of the cave. But when you zoom into one of these unfortunate creatures, you will find an individual who thinks that the light shines out of its ass. Thus, the whole colony is made up of an en-mass unfortunate notion that the light shines out of my ass.

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]

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.

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.

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:

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:

I’ve often been told that I’m extremely enthusiastic. Truth be told, at times I’ve wondered if that was a compliment or a backhanded way of saying something else!

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.

I’ve often been told that I’m extremely enthusiastic. Truth be told, at times I’ve wondered if that was a compliment or a backhanded way of saying something else!

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.

O Prabhupada
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.

O Prabhupada
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.

In the fifth century, Champasak was thought to be the centre of the Laotian universe. Today it’s a drowsy one-car village clutching the western bank of the Mekong River in southern Laos and home to the tiny Hindu-built Vat Phou, which some archaeologists believe may have been the first Angkor temple ever built.

At a glance, Vat Phou doesn’t seem like the kind of structure that would initiate an empire. A tiny prayer hall at the top of a precarious stone stairway, with two reception halls on the plains below, Vat Phou lacks the jaw-dropping awesomeness of temples in Cambodia’s Angkor Archaeological Park. But as with the Angkor temples, its symbolism is extraordinary.

Tucked under the phallic-shaped mountain peak of Phu Kao – thought to represent Mount Meru, the sacred mountain at the centre of the Hindu cosmology – Vat Phou was worshipped as the embodiment of Shiva. The spring nearby was associated with Shiva’s wife, the goddess Parvati. Water runs underground from Phu Kao’s peak, rising through Parvati. From here, passing a series of barays (man-made dams) and linga (phallic statues), water flows into the Mekong, blessing everything on its journey south.

UNDER THREAT: The ruins of Vat Phou in southern Laos hold secrets that are being destroyed by development.

In the fifth century, Champasak was thought to be the centre of the Laotian universe. Today it’s a drowsy one-car village clutching the western bank of the Mekong River in southern Laos and home to the tiny Hindu-built Vat Phou, which some archaeologists believe may have been the first Angkor temple ever built.

At a glance, Vat Phou doesn’t seem like the kind of structure that would initiate an empire. A tiny prayer hall at the top of a precarious stone stairway, with two reception halls on the plains below, Vat Phou lacks the jaw-dropping awesomeness of temples in Cambodia’s Angkor Archaeological Park. But as with the Angkor temples, its symbolism is extraordinary.

Tucked under the phallic-shaped mountain peak of Phu Kao – thought to represent Mount Meru, the sacred mountain at the centre of the Hindu cosmology – Vat Phou was worshipped as the embodiment of Shiva. The spring nearby was associated with Shiva’s wife, the goddess Parvati. Water runs underground from Phu Kao’s peak, rising through Parvati. From here, passing a series of barays (man-made dams) and linga (phallic statues), water flows into the Mekong, blessing everything on its journey south.

I learn this while poring over a satellite map with Daniel Davenport, an articulate but debated Australian archaeologist working in Champasak and author of the Vat Phou Guide: Following in the Footsteps of Angkor’s Pilgrims, a tourist compendium on the area that Davenport is self publishing.

“Vat Phou could quite well have been the first, the pre-eminent, Angkor temple,” he says, explaining that early worshippers took a piece of Vat Phou stone and placed it under every subsequent temple they built.

On the map, Davenport points out a well-defined line leading from one of the reception halls at Vat Phou to the temple of Angkor Wat. “This used to be a pilgrims’ road during the Khmer Empire,” he says, referring to the kingdom that reigned over much of south-east Asia between the ninth and thirteenth centuries and used the Angkor Archaelogical Park as the capital. “They had roadhouses every six miles (nine kilometres) with accommodation, food, shelter for the animals and hospitals; six miles being the average distance a bullock cart could travel in a day.”

However, archaeologists at Vat Phou know a lot less than they would like to. “We have excavated about 5 per cent of the area,” says Laurent Delfour, a French architect who has been working with UNESCO to manage the site for the past three-and-a-half years. “That translates as 5 per cent knowledge on the area. We believe that Vat Phou marked the beginning of the Angkor Empire but nothing is certain.”

What is certain is the race against time Champasak’s hidden treasures face. A new highway linking the town with the regional capital of Pakse and the Thai border post of Chong Mek, has already disturbed six ancient temples beneath the ground. Champasak was designated a World Heritage zone in 2001; building without assessments, and approval, is not permitted.

“The Laos Ministry of Information and Culture did a little research into the area where the road was going,” says a long-term Champasak resident who requested anonymity. “But the findings were just pushed aside and work on the road accelerated.”

The local government is hoping the road, which will extend to the Cambodian border, will bring in busloads of tourists.  Full story here.

 http://bharatkalyan97.blogspot.com/2011/10/vat-phou-temples-ancient-history.html

I am writing without really knowing why. Sometimes writing is motivated by a new understanding, a ‘realisation’. But what realisation do I have? You can realise something, as in understand it, but surely to truly realise something means to ‘bring it into reality’, to live it. So to truly have a realisation means to understand something and then apply it every day.

So what have I realised lately? In small ways, like gathering scraps and snippets and threads, I have begun to understand that the things I thought were important – security, companionship, money – are not as important as they seem. Sometimes it seems like we are all living a great misunderstanding. We need so little, and the smallest things are the greatest treasures. To sing, to love, to dance. To smile as we fall asleep and as we wake. We can choose to do these things, or choose not to.

I have begun to glimpse that life is like a symphony of beauty and pain in equal measures. The music plays on, and each of us must decide how to play. We can choose to play with grace and humility. We can choose to play in such a way as to always push ourselves beyond our perceived limits. We can choose that if we trip up on a few notes, we smile and play on, no problem. We can choose to look up from the safety of our sheet music at the conductor, and feel safety and guidance in the movement of his hands. We can choose to play alone, and sometimes that is how the music is supposed to go. But at other times we are surrounded by a full orchestra, and we can feel the joy of harmony, the thrill of delicious syncopation.

Or if we are feeling insecure, we can watch the hands and faces of our fellow musicians and feel strength in togetherness. We can sing a painful song together. Or we can even fall silent. In times when our voices will not sing and our hands will not play, we can just listen to the music that washes within and without, steady like a timeless tide.

 

 

More can be read about it at: http://2ndlook.wordpress.com/2011/06/04/lowenmensch-puzzle-am-i-missing-something/

I went to a talk today at the Lincoln Center called Soul Music – a discussion on the nature of the soul, and how it relates to the experience of music. What makes music soulful, and what transforms an ‘ordinary’ musical experience into something transcendent?

The panelists were mostly unknown to me – a well known archaeologist -Alison Brooks, and a philosopher – David Chalmers. The one I did know was Philip Glass, whose career as a composer has been quite prolific and varied.

The talk began with a performance of shape note singing by a group called Sacred Harp. I had never heard of it before, and was surprised twice – when my first reaction to the sound was not so positive – there was an earthiness, a very human imperfection in their harmonies and exuberance which felt somehow jarring for a moment. Then all of a sudden the sound hit my heart and tears sprang to my eyes. It was quite powerfully beautiful. The songs they sang were composed in the 17th and 18th centuries by American Christian settlers and were designed to be sung by everyone in a congregation, whether musically literate or not – hence the term ‘shape note’ – the notation was written in shapes like squares and triangles instead of in the more traditional way,to make it all the more easy for anyone to read the music by sight. Listening, I suddenly got goosebumps all over – there was such joy and devotion in their song, and their harmonies were unusual and almost otherwordly. Here’s an example.

There is just something so deeply moving about unaccompanied voices. In that moment the body is used an instrument, literally and figuratively, and when done in community, I think it has the power to change the world, from the inside, out. I could see this yesterday during the monthly 6 hour kirtan at the Bhakti Center. Such a diversity of people came – it was incredible. At one point I was dancing and noticed a young woman who had just come in mouth incredulously to her friend, ‘Everyone looks so happy!’ She nodded, amazed. It’s true, we were. Though we all have a myriad of trialling circumstances to return to when it’s all over, kirtan, sacred call and response singing, connects us deeply with one another and with a timeless divinity that brings a feeling of profound happiness. The leader of the Sacred Harp group today said something beautiful about the spirituality of their music, that the singing is ‘communal property – people are drawn to it because the sound of these voices together is not ours, just as our soul is not ours.’

So it was quite interesting to hear the panelists grappling with the deeper philosophy behind why we feel this way. Of course for me, coming from a spiritual tradition that can totally explain the nature of the soul and the context that it sits within, it is always fascinating to hear others working over the discussion. Each of them stated that they had little insight into it, but attempted to examine it from different angles. Philip Glass talked about his experience of composing, being totally mysterious. He said that he can never actually remember composing anything, and feels the sense of ‘a witness’ who watches and remembers what he does, who takes over in those moments, leaving him unable to explain why he created in the way he did. It sounds to me like ‘Paramatma’ the divine within who witnesses our every moment, but of course it can be justified in many ways.

So much to write about on this topic – so much to explore! For now, here’s a logo I’ve been designing for the newly founded Call and Response Foundation – set up to bring kirtan and creative communal experiences into schools, prisons, hospitals and more. It’s a work in progress.

 

I went to a talk today at the Lincoln Center called Soul Music – a discussion on the nature of the soul, and how it relates to the experience of music. What makes music soulful, and what transforms an ‘ordinary’ musical experience into something transcendent?

The panelists were mostly unknown to me – a well known archaeologist -Alison Brooks, and a philosopher – David Chalmers. The one I did know was Philip Glass, whose career as a composer has been quite prolific and varied.

The talk began with a performance of shape note singing by a group called Sacred Harp. I had never heard of it before, and was surprised twice – when my first reaction to the sound was not so positive – there was an earthiness, a very human imperfection in their harmonies and exuberance which felt somehow jarring for a moment. Then all of a sudden the sound hit my heart and tears sprang to my eyes. It was quite powerfully beautiful. The songs they sang were composed in the 17th and 18th centuries by American Christian settlers and were designed to be sung by everyone in a congregation, whether musically literate or not – hence the term ‘shape note’ – the notation was written in shapes like squares and triangles instead of in the more traditional way,to make it all the more easy for anyone to read the music by sight. Listening, I suddenly got goosebumps all over – there was such joy and devotion in their song, and their harmonies were unusual and almost otherwordly. Here’s an example.

There is just something so deeply moving about unaccompanied voices. In that moment the body is used an instrument, literally and figuratively, and when done in community, I think it has the power to change the world, from the inside, out. I could see this yesterday during the monthly 6 hour kirtan at the Bhakti Center. Such a diversity of people came – it was incredible. At one point I was dancing and noticed a young woman who had just come in mouth incredulously to her friend, ‘Everyone looks so happy!’ She nodded, amazed. It’s true, we were. Though we all have a myriad of trialling circumstances to return to when it’s all over, kirtan, sacred call and response singing, connects us deeply with one another and with a timeless divinity that brings a feeling of profound happiness. The leader of the Sacred Harp group today said something beautiful about the spirituality of their music, that the singing is ‘communal property – people are drawn to it because the sound of these voices together is not ours, just as our soul is not ours.’

So it was quite interesting to hear the panelists grappling with the deeper philosophy behind why we feel this way. Of course for me, coming from a spiritual tradition that can totally explain the nature of the soul and the context that it sits within, it is always fascinating to hear others working over the discussion. Each of them stated that they had little insight into it, but attempted to examine it from different angles. Philip Glass talked about his experience of composing, being totally mysterious. He said that he can never actually remember composing anything, and feels the sense of ‘a witness’ who watches and remembers what he does, who takes over in those moments, leaving him unable to explain why he created in the way he did. It sounds to me like ‘Paramatma’ the divine within who witnesses our every moment, but of course it can be justified in many ways.

So much to write about on this topic – so much to explore! For now, here’s a logo I’ve been designing for the newly founded Call and Response Foundation – set up to bring kirtan and creative communal experiences into schools, prisons, hospitals and more. It’s a work in progress.

 

Your broad face
ribbed with waves
silently watching
absorbing
we forget to bow to you
O devi of the city
jogging past your body
admiring your beauty
feeding you our daily remains.
We forget to pray.
No flowers sit atop the zig zags
carved by tourist boats at dusk.
You reach your fingers beneath the gum covered concrete
touching iron and earth and forgotten prayers
buried deep
below
the
rumbling
office
blocks

O devi, forgive us as we tut and call you dirty.
Your wide banks reflect the span of your compassion.

Tonight at sunset,
you sing a quiet song
as the trees around you sleep
you sing of your far away sisters
of sandy banks
where blessed feet stand
offering evening prayers.

Your broad face
ribbed with waves
silently watching
absorbing
we forget to bow to you
O devi of the city
jogging past your body
admiring your beauty
feeding you our daily remains.
We forget to pray.
No flowers sit atop the zig zags
carved by tourist boats at dusk.
You reach your fingers beneath the gum covered concrete
touching iron and earth and forgotten prayers
buried deep
below
the
rumbling
office
blocks

O devi, forgive us as we tut and call you dirty.
Your wide banks reflect the span of your compassion.

Tonight at sunset,
you sing a quiet song
as the trees around you sleep
you sing of your far away sisters
of sandy banks
where blessed feet stand
offering evening prayers.

Sometimes I feel like such a classic preacher’s daughter. I saw this ad in the street and instantly started pontificating in my mind. ‘Be quiet!,’ the other, humbler side of me hissed. ‘You don’t have to give a running commentary on everything.’ But – it’s too hard to resist. So forgive me.

This reminded me of how much we all want love. We want it so much that we drive ourselves crazy, filling life with things that like a bad boyfriend, promise so much and deliver so little. Whether the sugar that we crave in search of real sweetness, or the the things we buy to attract more love, more beauty, more security. I know I’m not saying anything new. When the Beatles sang ‘Money can’t buy me love,’ the whole world nodded (and sang) along. I know it, so why does real love still seem so elusive?

The missing piece is service. In almost every spiritual tradition this conclusion is defined – to love another truly is to serve, expecting nothing in return.

It’s been a powerful realisation for me lately. I have been blessed to receive appreciation and admiration from so many, but it doesn’t satisfy my heart unless I feel that I am sincerely trying to serve others. Easy to say, hard to remember.

Sometimes I feel like such a classic preacher’s daughter. I saw this ad in the street and instantly started pontificating in my mind. ‘Be quiet!,’ the other, humbler side of me hissed. ‘You don’t have to give a running commentary on everything.’ But – it’s too hard to resist. So forgive me.

This reminded me of how much we all want love. We want it so much that we drive ourselves crazy, filling life with things that like a bad boyfriend, promise so much and deliver so little. Whether the sugar that we crave in search of real sweetness, or the the things we buy to attract more love, more beauty, more security. I know I’m not saying anything new. When the Beatles sang ‘Money can’t buy me love,’ the whole world nodded (and sang) along. I know it, so why does real love still seem so elusive?

The missing piece is service. In almost every spiritual tradition this conclusion is defined – to love another truly is to serve, expecting nothing in return.

It’s been a powerful realisation for me lately. I have been blessed to receive appreciation and admiration from so many, but it doesn’t satisfy my heart unless I feel that I am sincerely trying to serve others. Easy to say, hard to remember.

While we have all become accustomed to seeing the typical images 
that are conjured up when we think of yoga, it can be an heart-opening experience to learn of bhakti-yoga - the yoga of love. 


We invite you to come and dive into an evening full of divine chants as you learn more about the ancient teachings of the yoga of the heart. The premise of the "Evening of Bhakti" is to hold a spiritually-soaked event for you. Whether you are completely new to the concept of bhakti-yoga or a seasoned veteran, you can expect an incredible evening of chanting, wisdom, dancing and more, followed by a vegan dinner. 

Our special guest speaker for this Evening of Bhakti will be Uttama Shloka das, who spends his time conducting courses, seminars and programs on bhakti-yoga in over 20 countries on four different continents around the world. 


Hosted at beautiful Govinda's Dining Hall in Toronto's historic Hare Krishna Centre (243 Avenue Road), we warmly invite your for an evening that will feed the mind, body and soul! 


Entrance: $15


See you on Saturday, October 22, 2011 at 7pm! :)


Please register at: http://tinyurl.com/evening-of-bhakti

While we have all become accustomed to seeing the typical images 
that are conjured up when we think of yoga, it can be an heart-opening experience to learn of bhakti-yoga - the yoga of love. 


We invite you to come and dive into an evening full of divine chants as you learn more about the ancient teachings of the yoga of the heart. The premise of the "Evening of Bhakti" is to hold a spiritually-soaked event for you. Whether you are completely new to the concept of bhakti-yoga or a seasoned veteran, you can expect an incredible evening of chanting, wisdom, dancing and more, followed by a vegan dinner. 

Our special guest speaker for this Evening of Bhakti will be Uttama Shloka das, who spends his time conducting courses, seminars and programs on bhakti-yoga in over 20 countries on four different continents around the world. 


Hosted at beautiful Govinda's Dining Hall in Toronto's historic Hare Krishna Centre (243 Avenue Road), we warmly invite your for an evening that will feed the mind, body and soul! 


Entrance: $15


See you on Saturday, October 22, 2011 at 7pm! :)


Please register at: http://tinyurl.com/evening-of-bhakti

Recently, on a bright morning, I had an interesting idea!

All of us know about our beloved Hare Krishna Centre is, a place full of warmth, smiles, chanting and delicious vegetarian meals! In fact, the Hare Krishnas are also known as the "cooking religion". Hmm... I wonder why? It's because no matter what form of Hare Krishna program is going on, you can be guaranteed to be fed amazingly! :)

Little Kimani is eating at Sunday Feast

Every Sunday evening, the Hare Krishna Centre holds an event called "Sunday Feast", where people get a chance to get together for incredibly rocking chanting, philosophical discussions and a sumptuous vegetarian dinner! Behind the scenes, every week, different cooks (usually families) volunteer to cook for the 300-400 people that come out for the program every week!

So, back to my idea! One bright morning I thought to myself, "Why can't Gaura-Shakti cook one Sunday Feast!?" Gaura-Shakti might be known for kirtans here and there but now Gaura-Shakti can be even known for cooking! :) Why not put all of our love into cooking for our wonderful weekly Sunday program?

This is what yoga is all about - yoga means connection. Connection with the Divine (Krishna) and others can be done through chanting and also through cooking with love. Bhakti yoga, the yoga of love, can be applied everywhere, whether it comes to cooking or chanting. :) Reciprocation comes from chanting or honouring meals made with love!

Stay tuned for an update on how the cooking went and you also might come by to one of the Sundays to try it out and... maybe help us out to cut vegetables! ;)

--Tara

Recently, on a bright morning, I had an interesting idea!

All of us know about our beloved Hare Krishna Centre is, a place full of warmth, smiles, chanting and delicious vegetarian meals! In fact, the Hare Krishnas are also known as the "cooking religion". Hmm... I wonder why? It's because no matter what form of Hare Krishna program is going on, you can be guaranteed to be fed amazingly! :)

Little Kimani is eating at Sunday Feast

Every Sunday evening, the Hare Krishna Centre holds an event called "Sunday Feast", where people get a chance to get together for incredibly rocking chanting, philosophical discussions and a sumptuous vegetarian dinner! Behind the scenes, every week, different cooks (usually families) volunteer to cook for the 300-400 people that come out for the program every week!

So, back to my idea! One bright morning I thought to myself, "Why can't Gaura-Shakti cook one Sunday Feast!?" Gaura-Shakti might be known for kirtans here and there but now Gaura-Shakti can be even known for cooking! :) Why not put all of our love into cooking for our wonderful weekly Sunday program?

This is what yoga is all about - yoga means connection. Connection with the Divine (Krishna) and others can be done through chanting and also through cooking with love. Bhakti yoga, the yoga of love, can be applied everywhere, whether it comes to cooking or chanting. :) Reciprocation comes from chanting or honouring meals made with love!

Stay tuned for an update on how the cooking went and you also might come by to one of the Sundays to try it out and... maybe help us out to cut vegetables! ;)

--Tara

Bilbo Baggins warned Frodo about stepping out his door; the road is windy and can take you everywhere. What started with a visit to a few places here and there to encourage a few people I knew in spiritual principles … Continue reading →