bhaktimarga swami (551)

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A kind Brhat Mrdunga, a Dutch Canadian farmer boy, took me down a familiar road, a trail I've blazed more than once - Highway 1, all way to Burnaby before launching off to Toronto. This route is always scenic and yet the scenery makes changes. There are the mighty rivers, the Thompson and the Fraser narrowed within mountains.

Since my last trek down this lane erosion has shifted soil bringing down rocks and trees. Some of the buildings, the Alexandria Lodge are deteriorating, as well the group

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I landed in Vancouver at 10:35 am. My boarding time for Nanaimo on the Island was for 10:35, hence the rush was on for a mere 10 minute flight. Gadhadar was there to greet me in style with a kurta top and green dhoti bottom with gold trim. Walking off through the Nanaimo terminal, the tinniest you could imagine, the two of us were a sight from another world.

A lunch appointment was set for the home of Tamalie and Walter. Walter we met at the beach at Departure Bay and, there, at a majestic

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It was quite joyful seeing the Amazon boxes outside my door. We tore into them to get to the contents and sure enough, there they were - the books I anticipated. It was my second publication - "The Walking Monk/ Poems. 1 "

The book is slim with a glossy jacket, one hundred fifty-five pages. It looks good. I thank Nitai Priya, the main editor who is getting married this week. There are different headings or sub-titles that fill the book - Heros, Social Issues, Walking Culture and Wisdom Wonde

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The Maritime pilgrimage goes on. Three cities covered today.

It started in Fredericton on the north side. My travel companion, Nityananda and I, hit a new trail which led us to the location where dozens and dozens of boys were at baseball practice, and at 8 in the morning. Not bad for sleep-in Sunday morning. These kids weren’t exactly attending church, but you could see they were serious about something of value – better than doing games on their devices.

They weren’t sure what to make of

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Off to the east we go. Nityananda and I embarked on a flight to Fredericton and then a car ride, compliments of Vyas. It was a year ago that this man of good company took diksha or initiation and he is doing well as the co-ordinator for the local Krishna community. He drove us to the city of St. John and the Irving Nature Park for a 7 kilometre coastline trail walk.

As soon as we hit that lovely trail our nostrils were aroused with effervescent fragrances of soft wood trees and wild flowers. Wh

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My final step before turning back to home, back to ashram, was on a park bench at the park, when a young man, James sat next to me.

"I'm just waiting for some buddies," he informed me. "Your day is full?" he asked.

"Yes, quite. I'm Bhaktimarga Swami. Swami for short."

"I'm James Ensley." We shook hands and it didn't end there. Like most people, meeting a monk is a first, let alone a walking monk.

I had a similar exchange just a few minutes before. I was sitting down to chant my gayatri ma

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The Bluffs, situated at the west coast of Lake Ontario, are a real gem to visit. The cliffs and accompanying what appears like huge ant hills are a sight to see, so for our Tuesday morning outing, our local Bhakti Academy students and I went for some hours to explore. The beach is clean, so is the water, the trails and trees are a paradise. The peninsulas formed (by man) are pleasant parks and to some degree protect the bluffs from erosion. The natural beauty and the human implementation are a

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The great pious king, Yudhistira, answered the pressing question, "What is the most wondrous thing in the world?" And here is what he said, "Everywhere, all around me, people are dying yet those of us who make this observation, feel that they will not perish. This is the greatest wonder."

Does that mean that something inside us will indeed persist through lifetimes?

I was saddened to hear that one of my leading men in my drama productions in Argentina passed away from kidney cancer. Matsya

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Batting by Bhaktimarga Swami

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Paul took a mighty amount of pictures
Of the crew that are now temple fixtures
The group is called Bhakti Academy Toronto
BAT for short and devotion is their motto

They took a brisk walk at Park Ramsden
A decent decision, a wise acumen
Catching sun rays and viewing squirrels
They are a combination of boys and girls

The zig zag trail can make one quite woozy
But mantra can anchor any tendency to be bluesy
The walk became an exercise, wholesome and sweet
Up the stairs, down the switchback, f

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Last October I took a trip to France to visit a farm called New Mayapura. When we landed, the passengers were queuing up to deplane. I met Rick and his wife. In the small world we live in, our chat revealed that we both live on the same street in Toronto, which is Avenue Rd. Surprise!

Rick said, "I go by your temple every day. Now that we met I'll have to come by. I gave Rick a copy of, "The Saffron Path,", who expressed that he was an author himself. Well, Rick finally made it to our buildi

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Carlos is my shiatsu therapist and since my last knee surgery two years ago, I see him by appointment from time to time. After a gap I had the pleasure of having this expert work on me. After that one hour session I really didn't want it to end. Jokingly he remarked, "you are my last client for the day, just stay on the cot until I come back tomorrow morning."

"Thanks!"

However, my thoughts lingered to the other responsibilities I have. An example: every Wednesday I do a "Gita Chat" zoom c

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How True It Is by Bhaktimarga Swami

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The very successful reunion of Krishna house/ Bhakti Academy initiatives in new Vrindaban was now behind us. We had the good fortune to take part in Cleveland's Sunday Sanga, which was nice, and then for now a flight to Newark Airport that took me to New Jersey and to my hosts Haripada and Sindhamini and the hills where bears do roam. 

Everything here is fairly much in full green height, including the garlic – mustard and aromatic honey suckle. The deck of their home near Towaco, is expansive

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Song in my mind by Bhaktimarga Swami

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It was a long day and night rather a big blur off time, coming from an eastern time zone, headed west back to Canada from India on a 16 hour flight.

There's not too much to report. I occupied myself in japa meditation and saw a few wildlife documentaries. Also there was a beautiful song that was ringing in my ears, it was the piece, a spiritualist song, quite bluesy, which we incorporated in our drama, "The Age of Kali." Here it is.

PART 1 Hush, hush, somebodies calling my name
Hush, som

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Share the journey by Bhaktimarga Swami

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I accepted the offer by kind Rsabh for the interview on "The Avilash Podcast".This meant a trip to his apartment in Brampton where he has a set up studio for such a program, He asked questions that naturally would be of interest to his audience, queries about what would hasten the public to ask, "What's a westerner doing living the life of a monk?" "Why the long walks".

So, for a full hour my interviewer and I went on to describe a journey, my own personal one, in meeting renunciates traveling

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Get To A Tree by Bhaktimarga Swami

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In these days of devices and screens one is expected to use or maybe over overuse them. I'm enjoying myself in the spring weather of Bengal when especially this year we are encountering the most pleasant breezes yet still it is hard to stay away altogether from a cell phone which does almost everything one needs for the community. One of my actors from Africa needed me to record his lines for the proper pacing in order to hear it over headphones again and again to get his part down as best as

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On May 30th, 1845, a ship landed at the Trinidad shoreline with a massive group of indentured labourers from India. They were promised by the British a life of labour and love. Love was somewhat questionable, because life, at the time, was one of great sacrifice. A century later, one of those pious Hindu fellows, from that strain, asked for permission to build a temple. Authorities said, “No!” The man’s name was Sadhu Seva.

He decided to build a small peninsula by bringing stone after stone,

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Patience was tested with airlines. “Delay” was the common word. Passengers even made their way to board the plane. We sat for two hours inside with a promising “ready to go” when (out of the blue) we were assigned to “deplane” and “come back later.” I was quite impressed with people’s tolerance level. There is always something to be learned from others and it doesn’t always come out of a book or one’s personal guru. Messages are heard (or should be heard) from all angles. God, as guru, is every

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Although some people consider me a nomad, always travelling to somewhere, I’m actually rather grounded by having a home base. This permits me to see people repeatedly, and Wayne, a super artist, who lives up the street on Roxborough, is a regular. He wears this distinguished hat with a wide brim, so I can spot him from many metres away. He’s gone through about three different dog-pet reincarnations. What’s different now is he uses a walker to get around in the park. Still, he’s Wayne, a nice n

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Under the Mango Tree by Bhaktimarga Swami

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The anniversary of the great dialogue between Krishna and Arjuna. The anchor person to this sublime conversation is someone by the name of Sanjaya, who is quite in a blissful state when relating it to the blind king, Dhrtarastra. Here’s how he felt in Sanskrit:

rajan samsmrtya samsmrtya

samvadam imam adbhutam

keshavarjunayoh punyam

hrsyami ca muhur muhuh

“Oh, King, as I repeatedly recall this wondrous and holy dialogue between Krishna and Arjuna, I take pleasure, being thrilled at every moment.

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Books in their hands by Bhaktimarga Swami

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From what I can see, Cubans are readers. After Ganganath and I took our dip in the ocean (a 30 min. one when we chanted our morning mantras), we met some workers. The first one was a painter, friendly as you can get. His warm-heatedness earned him our gift of the Bhagavad Gita. The second recipient was another local Cuban, with tools in his hands. This guy had torquoise eyes like the colour of the water we were in and had a build like warrior Arjuna. Was he ever overwelwhelmed by the beautiful

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