Kind donor, I thought, and that was my last thought (to my recollection) before shut-eye and saying goodbye to the day. A good sleep.
Our Vancouver centre received a nice donation from one admirer (anonymous) to the tune of just less than a quarter million. That’s super kind. So, I was informed. Good heart, I thought. More hearts like that are needed. Our project in the centre of the Greater Vancouver Area is in Burnaby; a great location. A new facility needs to go up and will cost 15 million.
Calls continued to come from well-wishers. Thank you!
I spent a good chunk of the day reviewing the draft manuscript for “The Saffron Road,” which details my walking experiences throughout the US and Canada, as well as a host of other countries; mostly more tropical. Then there’s Ireland – very moist.
So, we are moving along and getting closer to the book’s release and I’m hoping you will all be looking forward to it’s reading. Frankly I feel that it was almost a previous life that I am looking
It’s nice to get a call, like the following, once in a while (it’s paraphrased).
“Hi! I just wanted to introduce myself. I am Jorge. I live up north, have a family, work at a factory. Right now, as we’re talking, I am walking my two dogs on a forest trail that I frequent almost every day. I have a mother who is a devout Christian and, as I grew up, I would accompany her to services; so I appreciate the tradition very much.
“It was a friend of mine who introduced me to the Bhagavad-Gita. I’m rea
I’m going on close to one week since starting my two-week quarantine. It’s relatively an easy one to tackle. For members I also want to acknowledge that this year marks 125 years since the birth of His Divine Grace AC Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada. Celebrations have begun to recognize his great efforts and contributions to this world.
As expressed in words in a recent letter to me the other day, referring to Prabhupada as “the one who I believed radically changed American society in ways that
One of my dear friends from the area, Mr. Prasher, gave me good news. In India, Vrindavan and Varanasi, two sacred places in the state of Uttar Pradesh, are going back to old ways. Restrictions on animal slaughter and, according to him, liquor sales are now implemented. Good news indeed.
Now, how far such restrictions are enforced is another matter. India is traditionally the land of dharma, meaning a place of high principles, but with a thousand years of invasion, influences are such that it h
I walked again, to the park, for the purpose to light a little spark. I’m not the only one. There are many who come to lay out a blanket and then lay themselves out on it. Tennis balls are flying from within the court fence. There are lineups. The playground is vibrant with kids and their guardians; parent or nanny. Young men hop, bounce and leap balls through the hoops. The dogs are frisky while owners look on with care.
Benches get occupied fast. As soon as one occupant leaves another slides
Hey! I made it to the park, but on crutches. David, who lives in the ashram with us, accompanied me. I couldn’t have done it without him. We sat at a bench bathing in the sun. People walked by, many of whom were wearing green. Yes, of course, it’s St. Patrick’s Day and those who take to the green carry the spirit.
David and I were talking and wondering if anyone really knows much about him aside from him being some very kindly man from Ireland. “I think he has something to do with a shamrock, o
By Bhaktimarga Swami
Introduction
The 8 verses are an expression coming from Chaitanya addressing His full
appreciation for Krishna in the form of His name, carrying the spirit of
the feeling of separation:
Victory to the sacred sound, that cleanses all around.
There’s filth in the heart, piled up from the start.
Many births of desires, have burst up like fires.
Therefore, the kirtan charge, is for humanity at large.
It’s a practice so cool, like the rays of the moon.
It’s the fruit of wisdom,
A bit of a mile stone for me: I managed to walk fairly straight along the not so trustworthy balcony, without crutches. Yahoo! Perhaps Jayho! Which means pretty much the same thing. A sigh of relief, victory and healing. It tallies at 1 km.
Cameron is just a great help to me. He is with the Red Cross, does mostly construction work but took time off to take care of matters in the temple, and me. I’m grateful.
He brought up my lunch — a plate laden with asparagus, curried veggies, exquisite dahl
The Lotus Foundation is an initiative of learning about basic principles of dharma. As one of the directors, I was asked to promote the initiative, which has been up and running for its third year now. The participants are young and it is attracting families who want to gain some insight into Vedic culture. Some of the subjects learned are hands on yoga, nutrition, plant-based diet and the values behind it, gardening, chanting mantras, basic elements of etiquette and even learning of the three
Cameron, who comes over to check on me quite regularly, took a lotus position and within that safe six foot distance, mentioned to me, “This room has a powerful energy.”
I agreed. “Why sure. This is the place where our guru, Prabhupada, stayed. Right where I am laying now (recovering) was the location of his bed. To my left is the washroom and tub he used and next to us, behind you, was the greeting room.”
“The vibes are good,” Cameron reiterated in his Aussie accent.
It has been a week since I
Our roofer, Victor, did make it up above me. I could hear his clumping on the flat roof overhead, the very place where squirrels race back-and-forth; never on a schedule. It’s just frivolous, whimsical play. Their footsteps are light compared to Victor’s firm and less speedy moments.
Below me, on the main floor, is Sri the Pea (that’s what he calls himself) getting already for Govinda's take out. It Involves mostly the use of water, the washing of trays and laying out of the day’s spread of tas
I am sorry but I won’t be able to report any kilometres (or miles) these days. I’m off my feet. My mind still races, though, and in merely a flash, I’ll be in Mayapura, India, hurriedly moving from my room to the Samadhi Auditorium and back, or walking on a trail by the Assiniboine River in Manitoba. I am covering many miles, mentally, each day but I would have difficulty nailing down an actual record, really.
In any event, one of the physician friends of our ashram, Jagannath Misra, came over
A poem sent and written by an anonymous follower
Walking has ceased
Reduced to a crawl
Services change
That benefit all
A sacrifice made
Traversing great lands
Causing tide’s change
From feet to head and hands
Though a temporary tide
We share in the pain
For knowing the love
Of this kindly Saint
Is on earth and land
And lake shore pretty
Or on cement’s soil
Gardening souls in the city
“Hang tough!” We cry
It won’t be long
Before your feet
Resume their song
May your mind be light
Your pain
Temperatures were mild. There was a thaw. My ceiling told me so. A slow leak of brown water was coming through. It’s interesting how it travels from the roof. Clumps of snow and ice meet the sun and hence a drip makes its way from the rooftop to the floor in the bedroom.
“We’ll get it fixed,” says our maintenance man.
“Great!”
Whenever a bit of humidity makes its entrance, arthritic joints feel it. Today is a good example of the elements visiting this second building — the body. Legs, knees and
There is bliss in service. That bliss is demonstrated by those in the devotional realm of bhakti. One person, whom I snuck up on, who characterizes this joyful practice, was a person in the kitchen of our ashram. Uttamananda is a kind soul — and a kind soul is usually a happy one — and in the early hour of 6 a.m. he was immersed in pot washing. That’s how I was able to get in from behind him. The pot sinks are against the wall, so anyone who has that designated role of pot washing has a wall in
A poem I wrote to honor the guru (Prabhupada):
Inspiring Captain
Bless that a new power be bestowed upon me
To be humbled as if standing next to the big sea.
It’s what I’ve never known, never seen
For behind the ears, I’m embarrassingly green.
I am small, I am petite
Searching constantly for what’s labelled as sweet.
Conceit is the weakness that brings this about
Causing an entrance, an exit — I’m in, I’m out.
I find a straw-in-teeth so hard to swallow.
Pride ‘n snobbery is what I’m up t
The message came from Ohio. It came from a fine fella who considers himself a punk, perhaps an X. His name is Kaustubha and it is good news — I’m sure he doesn’t mind me sharing the message regarding a new trail. Seems like he would go for trail blazing it. That’s his offer. He’s wondering if I still have some steam in my tank for a marathon. My answer is “Yes, most probably, but after some work is done on the knees.” Here is his message:
“Just saw a wonderful article about a new walking/biking
The king of elephants, Gajendra, found himself in a difficult spot. After spending some leisurely time in the water with his female friends, the fun stopped when one of his legs was locked by the jaws of a menacing crocodile. Recalling his habit of prayer from his former life as a human, he suddenly took to such supplication, calling on help from Vishnu. Vishnu responded to the devotional plea of the elephant and set him free from the perilous mouth of the reptile.
The above story, outlined in C
The corner of Avenue Road and Roxsborough is notorious for auto accidents. I was sitting at my usual corner, inside what we call Prabhupada’s quarters, when I heard a slam/bang sort of sound. I looked outside to what I perceived as the source of sound and sure enough two vehicles clashed. Sad! Damage was done. Both motorists appeared unharmed. Police came very fast and efficiently. Paramedics too, just to see if there was a need.
From my view, glancing through the third-floor arched window, I co
