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It was a typical October day, I mean to say, perfect for walking. The wind, a cloud and the sun were above and around, not only me but everyone. I was walking west on Dupont and at one crossroad, at Davenport, also known as the Ancient Trail used by the Huron for centuries, I met one road worker. His name is Jordan, he left his tools and came down.

“Hare Krishna!” said Jordan. “We’ve met. I know Phil, who is in Hungary now at the farm community… I do chant and follow some of your classes on Zoom

I walked to “Theatrics Plus” and the friendly clerk found for me what I came for, a prop for the virtual drama that a group of us are putting together. “Rolling the Dice” is the name of the play. The highlight of the story focuses on some shady gambling from the “Mahabharat.” The props I purchased were dice, four of them at $2.50 a crack. They look good, roll nice, sound good when you shake them and are made in China. According to the epic, the iconic dice are supposed to be made of the bones of

Drizzle! Drizzle! That is the sum and substance of weather conditions today and tonight. My encounter with it was in the evening. I didn’t mind. My full day was indoors, where it was rather dry. The important thing is one’s state of mind, regardless of the situation. Krishna is within and without. So let the rain come down.

I received a call from someone in Edmonton. He, like many, are quite affected by the fear culture installed by Covid-19. My response to him was to not get over-exposed to the

It was 7 PM. I was in my room just wrapping up on a zoom call with Argentina when David came to my door.

“Are you coming?” David asked in anticipation of our nightly staircase kirtan.

“Yes,” I responded. “By the way, I have to go!” I told the people on the Zoom call. “Good-bye!” I said, as did they. Along with an appreciative, “Gracias!”

We hit on a good topic—the theme of Achintya-bedabeda-tattva, which translates as “the inconceivable, simultaneous principle of oneness and difference.” Also, s

An older man with whitish hair and beard has seen me passing by before, at least twice.  Once he offered a quick exchange of words, with a cigarette in his mouth.

“Hi! How are yah!”

Today was similar, “Hey, how’s it goin’?”

“Fine,” I said as I stopped.

“Yah I know, I met a holy man the other day as he was passing…”

“Is that right?” I inquired.

“And, he blessed me. Minutes later I found a $20 bill on the street.” He was chuckling.

“Lucky you! Well, God bless. Hare Krishna!”

“Yeah!”

“Have a good o

I take this project very seriously. “Krishna in the Mapleleaf” is a book project that details the earliest days of the birth and growth of Krishna Consciousness in Canada, during the period from 1967-1977. In these first ten years we will highlight the reflections of the different participants from that period. By the grace of God I am spear-heading the project and I am receiving much practical help from friend and devotee; Wade Wilson, from New Brunswick.

This morning David and I headed for a t

It is rather a new sensation for Aisvarya—rustling through the fallen leaves. He’s a Trinidad boy, used to the tropical experience, but at this portion in his life he’s touching autumn for the first time. He’s now gone
through three seasons. He would be in his home country by now, Trinidad, but Covid-19 has created some complications, as it has for a lot of people.

Aisvarya and I made it to the park at Allan Gardens, where the grass is still very green but the autumn drying leaves are complement

Karuna and I traveled safely, in our temple car, to the location of my God brother, Girijadhava. He and I sat outside, safely in the backyard, not just to “shoot the breeze” and speak about the current socio-political situation in the world but to, in a way, go back through a time machine. I was basically interviewing him about his time as a monk, living in the ashram in the 70’s, what led him to that and how he feels about that experience before he settled down to marriage and had a daughter.

T

I was walking near the new Yorkville Mall when the threat of a rain storm compelled me to search for shelter. Well, there is such a place at a side entrance, a fair expanse. It was there that I met a fellow with a coffee cup in hand who approached me in a jovial manner.

“Are you hare-ing?” he inquired.

“Excuse me?” I asked, not sure of the word he used.

“Are you hare-ing?” He asked in a higher tone.

Of course, I took it that he was saying, “Hurrying.” After all I was a little anxious about stayi

I began my steps through Ramsden Park, which is particularly busy this late afternoon. People are lined-up on both sides of the tennis courts waiting for a spot. The playgrounds are full. People are seated on the grass in circles. I wonder what they are talking about? The government is cracking down on gatherings starting tomorrow. A second wave of Covid-19 has begun and is drawing concern. Is that on people’s minds?

One circle of young men, five in number, looked my way as I strode along. I got

Two young guys scurried along as I came around the corner. There was no doubt that I frightened them. The maple tree came in most handy as they tucked away behind the trunk at a best attempt to conceal themselves. Well, I could spot one, at least a tail. I poked my head as I moved in closer for our little game. I went to the left, they went to the right. I moved to the right and they went to the left. I pulled out my phone for a camera shot. One by one they pounced onto the bark and ascended to

I did not get much of a walk in today, just a wee number of indoor strides. My only outside touch of the elements was the stairway at the temple’s entrance. There our kirtan crew met with the night. The lamp-post lit up by its sensor and we, too, got lit with the kirtan. We were in a happy state. We could have chanted the night away.

I did, however, accomplish a number of things; responding to emails, counseling people, reading “The Chaitanya Charitamrta,” as well as publication and proofreading

David, who lives with us in the ashram, drove us north to the very base of the Bruce Peninsula, which divides the Georgian Bay from Lake Huron. It is quite the waterway, an amazing expanse of H2O, minus ocean salt, with clean air. I would call it a place of opulence.

Clavering is a small hamlet. To reach there, David and I got adventurously lost, however, this displacement brought us through some of the prettiest scenery. Then, once we gained our bearings, we coasted by the shores along Collingw

Birthday wishes came flooding in. Thank you all, from across Canada, Africa, India, Florida and, of course, South America. It’s nice to know I have a big family that cares. I’m 68.

For starters our Monday group comprised of cousin Correy, Eric and Victor. A cake came to the Yorkville Mall, complements of the group. We come together to talk of Christ, Krishna, Mohammed as well as humanity and of how the world is in a tussle. The serviette for the cake bore the image of a fall landscape print, by

There is this sunken area full of trees, green and red, and has a flat surface with grass. Located right next to the Rosedale subway station, it is tucked away and a secret space, which makes for a perfect, private area. We found it ideal as an outdoor drama-practice venue.

This intensely maple-red trees defined our area of work. We scanned this park area and it was clear that here was where we should be. We carried with us no props. However, we found, conveniently, an antique wooden chair. “Thi

Jay Gopal, a resident of Stratford in Canada, pointed to the new $100 million theatre that just recently had to close up without ever opening its doors, because Covid-19 muscled its way in. This edifice, along with other live theatre halls in town, have been vacant for months now. “The show must go on!” Doesn’t apply here, and in most other places were thespian talents of a world-class nature are staged. It’s a shame. Shakespeare has been put to sleep.

Jay Gopal drove Karuna and me to Wildwood C

Here’s a poem about “guru” dedicated to Prabhupada written after a brief walk.

I was sitting in the room

Made a call by way of Zoom

Looked at verse 4:34

What a seeker’s looking for
 

Why is it so advised

To get vision beyond the eyes

While a passion hungry heart

Yearns for pleasure from the start?
 

Self-help goes so far

Alone—you’re in a jar

We have a certain limit

Think it over for a minute
 

To accept a real good guide

Who tells of the other side

You access essential wisdom

Taking you closer

I sleep in a very special room, the place where our guru, Prabhupada, laid down his divine body for slumber in June of 1976. Where my head is positioned on a captain-style bed I can see perfectly, framed by the rooms only window, the celestial position of Mars, as I look towards the south-east sky.

I’m not alone. Mars is the one observing my existence in the reclining pose. We are never alone. Whether it is Mars’ influence, or something else, my sleep was not good. I warned Devananda, who was to

It always pays off. This walking I do, to a nearby park, in any direction, almost each day, gets attention by some individual and leads to a spontaneously established friendship.

Today I made my way southbound to Queen’s Park to meet a newly made compadre, Saurav, where we would be going over a discussion on chapter 1 of The Gita. He tells me he has accepted me as his teacher and also admitted it’s hard for him to spark an interest in spiritual talk with his buddies. With me it’s 90% all about t

Despite cooler temperatures most trees in the area remain a rich green. Some, like the maple, are starting to show its true colour. At the end of the street from the temple/ashram you have got a majestic maple that is not just “showing” but it’s “showing off.” And it’s under that tree where, in two days, I’ll meet with my philosophical/spiritual friends for discussion. For now, a lit park lamp-post in the night is all that is necessary for the splendor of this tree to catch my fortunate eye.

Wit