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
There was a sweet briskness in the air as we set out for a 7am exercise session of Chi Gong in the zoologico. The local folks, mostly retirees, were in Chinese silk garb, while us visitors from Canada were attired in our usual Indian dhoti and kurta. The session, held in gorgeous, natural greenery, was so relaxing. I wish that our temple and ashram had sessions like this, even for fifteen to twenty minutes a day.
It was time for our taxi to arrive and to bid farewell to Laksminath, who has been
Bliss is at the beach, but for those of us who are bhakti boys, the earlier in the day, the better; before crowds set in. A couple from Milton, Ugresh and Urmila, joined us in the oceans of water for a morning Sadhana comprised of prayers to the guru, prayers to Narasingha, the lion avatar, and then finally a Bhagavatam discussion.
What do we get out of this? A water massage, vitamin D, minerals nourishing the body, time to touch the brain and heart. Time to touch humility. We dried off and the
The Chariot Fest fast approaches, mañana (tomorrow) to be exact. Many visitors from different locations in the country have arrived. From outside Germany, comes a monk, Bhakti Bhushana Swami, a wonderful peaceful monk if ever I knew one. I already mentioned about Mahavishnu Swami, who’s from the U.K. And then there’s myself, from Canada.
I met Mark, a New Yorker, now living in Santa Fe, who was startled to hear a kirtan party in one of the sections of Buenos Aires where he was on an art assignm
Hard work with the drama practice, but while waiting for all to show up, I pulled together this poem:
Dream and Cream
It’s a blessing to be alive
In such a honey bee hive
Sharing space of purity
Where darkness becomes obscurity
In a safe ashram temple
Far from the judge mental
We sing and we play
Even on the most gloomy day
Keeping to some regimen
For even Bhakta Benjamin
We sit and hear a lesson
Always time for some question
We honour the best food
At the three point interlude
A ses
My last festival here was in 2019 and now that I’m back at the same service of giving class, leading the chant and directing a drama, it almost seems like I have not missed a beat. The last item is the biggest but happiest challenge.
First of all, there is a language barrier. I know little Spanish. So, how does one direct a play written in English to a Spanish-speaking group? Getting the script translated was accomplished, but, as most people know, intent can be lost in translation. A lot of th
