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Morning meditation began at the ISKCON centre at 212 Somerset E. located in the heart of student land for Ottawa U. Included in these contemplations and mantras was a discussion over a Bhagavatam verse from Canto 4 where the renowned sage, Narada, counsels Dhruva, a young 5-year-old attempting meditation. Narada advises the young student to approach three different kinds of people from respective angles. To experienced souls, one should offer respect and listen. For the younger and inexperience

Nanda took Nikhil and I for a walk at Chinguacousy Park in Brampton. Also, I went to the dentist. The not-good-news is the bridge of my teeth is cracked and needs replacing.

The following is a poem about some of the history of mistreatment of the female sector in the movement. There is an attempt to rectify.

GENDER BLENDER

Early 70s, the Hare Krishna Movement
North America enjoyed a great recruitment
We were a growing, glowing family
A blessed bunch existing happily
Prabhupada’s “boys and girls

Sometime people ask me how I do it, whether it be a long walk or busy at flying from country to country. My usual answer is something like, “The mercy of the Creator.”

I had to question my own answer of confidence when at our Niagara gathering; I was doubting my own conviction. I was signing books at our centre when my eyelids closed just momentarily out of fatigue. And then when I took to the sponsored feast, an integral party of Sunday gatherings, I was chomping on the delicious food when sud

Ram Lila and I were to take a flight at the Eugene F. Correia International Airport, a very modest-sized facility, to destination, Suriname. It’s another country just east of Guyana. The aircraft takes ten passengers. There was an issue over my not having a yellow fever card, but what became nothing more than a slight tussle ended up giving me a pass for over an hour’s flight to another tiny airport, a tad bit larger than a barn.

Ram Lila and I were greeted by a sweet couple with garlands of th

Things are changing in Guyana. When I took American Airlines from Trinidad to Guyana, a mere one-hour flight, I noticed passengers who were in unmistakably Latino. Apparently, people from troubled Venezuela are migrating. Oil was discovered in Guyana, and so the rush is on. I was told Cubans are also making inroads.

Upon arriving in Georgetown, I noticed there are fewer lotuses in the canals. The country is taking action and clearing these lovelies that clog the plumbing. What else? Well, new r

There they were, like kids in a candy shop. The Bhakti Academy crew joined me for a visit to a household in Stouffville. The proprietor, Ajay, handed me a copy of the Krsna Art Book, which I passed on for viewing to BA for their perusal. They were enthralled.

Page after page illustrates and summarizes pastimes of Krishna, which are full of energy, mysticism and holiness. Thus, the group was huddled about the book, a coffee-table sized gorgeous publication. It was the first time they had viewed

Every once in a while, I meet a real nice person as a passenger on the plane next to me. The timing on the flight between Vancouver and Toronto couldn’t be better for dodging storms. Vancouver got clobbered and there’s more to come. Predictions indicate that storms will hit Toronto, so there was a break of winter chaos and that happened to be my flight time for Air Canada 108. The stress reliever is always mantra power, so that’s what I resorted to. An additional soothe space was in meeting Mik

Roads have been quiet. Silent night was early. People preferred to stay at home. Snow had accumulated to levels that made it restrictive to travel. Snow plows were doing their best to clear but it takes time. This area isn’t ready for such a dumping dynamic.

The sun shone through.

I had to cancel on delivering the class this morning. My right leg is in too much pain. I attribute it to a seizing of the leg muscles from the cold. The temples furnace broke down and the floor tiles have been rather

A snowstorm hit Vancouver Island just as it did on the mainland. All night long – isn’t that a song? Anyway, here’s a poem about Norm:

I met a man by the name, Norm

At the time of a big snow storm

He is 66 and has no legs

But substitute bionic pegs

He is no scholar like Socrates/Plato

And explained he became a couch potato

He’d been clicking the one-eyed monster

Switching channels, faster and faster

His sedentary roll made him quite fat

With 380 pounds all under his hat

 One day he got electr

To get to this lovely town, located on Vancouver Island, you take a ferry from the mainland and sail to Nanaimo, then drive for 30 minutes. The arctic factor appears to have hit the island with snow flurries for the better part of the day and night.

At the home of Gadadhar and Manoharini I met Norm Thompson, 66, who came to our program of “Tales from the Trails.” Due to the imposing storm few people turned up, but it was Norm, who was determined, regardless of the weather, to see me. Recently,

It’s not so usual to be receiving the white stuff we call snow in the Vancouver area. This area is more rain prone. This morning it came down in abundance. It left a blanket of pureness. Pretty for sure. The unique thing is that at approximately 7am thunder sounded and lightning flashed. This was heard and witnessed by several of us in and outside of the temple hall where we were at the time. Most unusual during a snowfall.

After a lively program, including a discussion on Indra, the rain/snow

The night kicked-in and that was the sign for me to take a walk down by the perfect black and flat soil, where houses and green bushes are in abundance. It was also where a pair of coyotes meandered for food and fun.

I turned the corner from Marine Drive, and entered the quiet of the farmland described above when a thought came. There are two types of people that can walk endlessly – a monk and a criminal. A monk walks about, exercising detachment from the world. A criminal walks about and just

Things are moving along with the recording of the audiobook for The Saffron Path. I have completed forty-three chapters and I am well into walking the United States to reach the Elm tree at Tompkins Square, Park, NY. It’s fun going through the book’s content again. It feels like I’m on the road again. Nice to see some people purchasing the book as a Christmas gift.

Being stuck in a tight studio for the recording restricts the opportunity to mobilize the body. And on top of that, there are obliga

It is no exaggeration when I say that it is liberating when you take a trip to the farm. To be more specific, current and personal, I had the pleasure to hit Highway-1 with Jay Govinda, Hari Nishta, and Bhakta Vishnu for a drive to our rural community; four hours northeast from Vancouver.

The drive is scenic and super pleasant. I was quite shocked, however, to see the extremely low level of water in both the Fraser and Thompson Rivers. At certain sections the water of the Thompson was like a cr

It gets fairly interesting when the boiler breaks down and you sit in a frigid space. I’m talking about our temple hall in Burnaby, where I’m staying. In sacred places like Vrindavan, India, you just don’t have central heating, therefore a pilgrim will naturally feel a chill. As pilgrims do at these times of year, they wrap themselves in coats, scarves, mits, and chauddars (shawls). It’s the norm to bundle up in the winter.

What compensates for the chill in the air is chanting and reciting the 

Enroute to Vancouver, and I’m waiting at the Toronto Airport, Gate 34 for Air Canada Flight 111. A Middle-Eastern fellow came to sit across from where I was sitting. The first thing he did after settling down, was whip out a set of beads for his meditation. He began a soft utterance while fingering on his beads. Our eyes met. We nodded. Then I revealed my beads as I was also meditating on my japa beads.

“Is he a devotee?” I queried in my mind.

His phone rang, and he answered. It’s not Hindi. He

I fail to understand why some folks just don’t dance when the drums are beating. I know it can be early for some at 4:30 am when we, the temple residents, attend the chanting session for what we call mangal-arati. This translates as the “auspicious service.” This “service” entails a ritual of viewing plus a chanting session to accompaniment of musical instruments. The drum is a major feature, and how someone playing or listening to good beats does not dance, simply puzzles me.

Personally, I lik

How can one define the concept of family?

To me it’s a framework of two strong pillars

Of ideal role models who are complementary

And who function as life’s wisdom fillers

Moreover, I think it’s a microcosm structure

With moral foundations as the base

A kind of roof and walls housing a culture

Of warmth in the middle of its place

Let’s consider a family a boat that’s riding waves

Tackling small waves and tall ones

With a floating crew of sailors so brave

Comprised of parents, daughters and

When walking by the Christmas trees in Yorkville, Toronto, I was contemplating on how responsive people were in Cuba during our recent week-long visit. Their nods, smiles and, “Olas” are endearing, but I should not fail to neglect the many tourists from Quebec, Ontario and other designations, also showed receptiveness.

For instance, as our group at the resort in Varadero were waiting for our airport bus, a person by the name Vince came to us with the greatest curiosity. You wouldn’t think that

I could swear I was in Vaikuntha (heaven). White sands, aqua-coloured water calm as anything, the sky boasted multiple blues to purples. The air was clean.

It was 7am when Ugresh, Urvi, Vallabha, Emile and I dove into the sublime liquid of ocean minerals. We were submerged, as were the school of fish milling around our legs. We were early.

Practically no one else was out. It’s understandable. There is entertainment at the resort and rum is freely given, so judging by the night excitement and no