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A second Vivek, who owns and runs Karma Café, took me to a Burrito restaurant in Saskatoon, which is now a commercial chain in the province.  It is a father and son business which arranged to accommodate my vegetarian needs.  During the lunch, I sat and chatted for an hour with this dynamic duo who happen to be Gujaratis from Surat, India.  I was impressed by their efforts to promote the plant-based diet (for the most part).  The ahimsa concept is very firmly held onto by these gentlemen.

 

While Toronto was getting twenty-nine degrees Celsius, Regina received a temperature of plus one, but the coolness suited me fine.  No sweat! It was perfect for a brisk walk along a quiet country road through Regina’s east end, which led to Victoria Avenue, past a new and already popular Costco store.  Costco is the epitome of box-store culture, but I like the fact that now trees line the entrance lane.  I asked the two work persons, “Why the white wrappers around the trunks?”

 

“To keep the

Here are few musings from the books of Radhanath Swami. Simple, little stories but with profound meanings that can permanently alter our consciousness if we allow them to.

The first is a story from his memoir, "The Journey Home". During his travels in the Himalayas, he reached the holy city of Rishikesh. There, he took a month-long vow to fast and meditate on a rock in the Ganges to receive enlightenment. After successfully completin

Long back, I heard this analogy to explain the nature of the unlimited desires in our hearts. It is explained in this analogy that, even if all the water bodies in earth are made into ink to fill a pen whose nib is as small as an atom and the sky is made into paper to write on; the ink will get exhausted, the nib will break and

 

I really appreciated all the healthy green foliage on my walk today.  Actually I spent a good two hours trekking under a light rain the entire time.  When that happens, you can be assured that all the wild growth of plants and flowers becomes intensified in beauty and fragrance.  Leaves appear to be ‘shined-up.’  The emission of scent is very enhanced in all its diversity.

The trail that is a stretch between Mount Pleasant Cemetery and Brickworks is particularly appealing.  I found myself al

 

Wasaga Beach claims to be the longest unguarded beach in the world.  No lifeguards.  Isn't that something?  It was said that at one time, maybe still today (although the sign we read didn't say that) it was classified as the longest beach on a freshwater body.  That's a great claim.

 

It was Krsnadasa, my dear Godbrother, and Billy and I who dipped into these waters at Georgian Bay.  Last year at this time, I was in Ukraine, and as a treat took ten minutes to, literally, test the waters with

 

The first bright spot for me on this day happened as follows:

 

One of our visitors from India, who happens to be just a gem of a devotee, attended the morning sadhana, and just as I was about to deliver the class/talk, he excused himself from sitting there to listen.  The light moment came when his accent came through.

 

"I cannot be here.  I have to go to the Jew," he said.

 

"Sorry?” I responded.  I wasn't sure of what he said.  "Could you say that again?"

 

"I'm going to the Jew."

Which

 

The passenger next to me on the VIA train was a sweet elderly lady from Dorval, Quebec, and by her own arrangement this petite lady was enroute to Niagara-on-the-Lake, then a stay overnight in a hotel room to attend the Shaw Theatre (as in George Bernard Shaw).  It was clearly a holiday for her.

I mentioned to her that Niagara-on-the-Lake is where the Bruce Trail begins, a trail that I have begun to tackle.  One thing led to another and somewhere in the conversation I mentioned my marathon

 

From Halifax, I flew to Montreal.  It's a short flight.  Anyway, I was sad to leave our place there, but happy to be in another.

 

Every year our Montreal community holds a ‘memories of our guru event’ on Labour Day weekend.  I was invited and asked to speak about my personal epiphanies on the most import person in my life.  I first met Krishna monks in the summer of '72 in downtown Toronto, on Yonge Street.  A few months passed and I came in contact again with monastics on Vancouver Island. 

 

I was told: "When you get out of the apartment building you're on Washmill Lake Drive.  Go right, then left on Main Street." 

 

I'm often impatient about waiting to go anywhere, so I decided to get a headstart on foot.  "Please pick me up," I requested.

 

"Sure.  We'll only be five minutes," said Marshall, our driver, who was going to take us to the popular Harbourfront in the downtown.  I was skeptical about the punctuality.  Anyway, a pleasant walk it was, though the sun was a bit much.  I

 

Susan is an art curator living in the Lunenburg area, known for its quaint fishing village, a popular tourist attraction.  Before she moved into the field of art, when young, she spent one year in a Krishna temple living like a nun.  All this time, she has kept Krishna in her heart.  A gracious host, she and her partner, Richard, a retired professor from the  University of Waterloo, treated us to the healthiest meal you could imagine with ingredients from their garden.

Thank you!

 

Marshall

 

A fourteen year old asked her dad, "Who are those guys in beige from head to toe?"  

 

And the dad answered the best he could.  "It looks like they're going through some Shakespearean script.  Intense monks or something!" (at Killarney Lake).

 

I was having a peaceful conversation with Etienne and daughter, Kunti—more of a pep talk about devotional service in a park—when a bunch of young boys and a girl stormed in with wheeled devices.  "Loud" would be an understatement to describe their beha

I believe most walkers love walking over bridges, especially if there's a wooden flooring which has a little bit of a spring to it.  Once a railway bridge, the Bill Thorpe Bridge crosses over the Saint John River, and is the length of five hundred and eighty-one metres, with a serious iron framing on each side.

 

A repair man on the bridge asked if we were monks, and we naturally said, "Yes." He was curious.  There were other repair crewmen ready to embark on a four-month workover of the bridge.

I had proposed to my three companion monks that we visit King's Landing, one of those historic pioneer villages where you step back in time, and see how folks of a European extract lived in the New World.  It wasn't such a hard sell.  "It will be educational, a cultural experience and in a spiritual context, we'll see people in period costume living the more simple life with organic food to depend on and a lifestyle of interdependence—all much like what Prabhupada, our guru, wanted for us."  Su

To me it was just a perfect morning around ten degrees Celsius.  No jacket required or chaudar (the Indian version), but for Samuel, who is slender, Marshall, too, and come to think of it, Nicholas, as well, bundling up was necessary.  Once we all ventured into a good clip walking the trails near the St. John River, over the well-known walking bridge, and into town, we all felt we could do without the extra hides.

 

Goodness, people are friendly.  It must be because everything is smaller and d

Covering a two day blitz of bhakti was a fun type of back-and-forth shuttle between three cities. And below are the highlights.

 

First, our small troupe of monks drove to a region outside of Moncton (perhaps one day we could change the spelling to Monktown) and there, just off of a panoramic ridge on Indian Mountain Road, was our destination for five hours of devotion. The setting, a rustic barn transformed into a place of living accommodation, and craft and yogic functions, was the place for

 

It was evening ārati time,

Which began at a clock’s precise chime

And from that gorgeous shrine

Was projected softly your voice divine.

From the modest speaker box it came,

A sound that only purity can claim.

It was the subject of ten avatars

Some who declare peace while others wars.

No vibration could dare to match

Your depth and power, the ear to catch

The pastimes of courageous heroes

And saints of softer mellows.

The harmonium you play hums through the song

Causing the listen

 

Our drive to New Brunswick, a very scenic experience, allowed for a feast for the eyes. To some degree the word ‘feast’ became significant to Samuel, Marshall, Nicholas and myself.  At the stroke of midnight, we will break our full day fast on this auspicious day of Krishna's birthday.  It is not that food is on the mind, necessarily, though hunger pangs do rise. It's a dose of determination that makes for success in this realm of resistance.

 

As the day rolled out, the four of us scored wel

A few days ago, I had the opportunity to participate in a retreat for brahmacharis (monks) connected to the Radha Gopinath temple, Mumbai at the Govardhan Eco Village - the farm project of Radha Gopinath temple. Among other feelings, retreats like these always leaves you feeling a little more grounded and humble. You feel small in front of hundreds of other accomplished monks. The sayi

After a four and a half hour flight from Vancouver, I landed back home.  Before my next trip via bus to Montreal tomorrow I had a space in the evening to stroll.  Jaya had rounds to do meaning his prescribed number of mantras for the day, and so he was a natural candidate for a walking companion.  I chose Rosedale.

You could feel that change of season in the air that late summer feeling.  Crickets, obvious by their presence of sound, are in every direction.  The breezes blowing are so awesome