For Ukraine, our residents had a chant.
From our west coast Gita Chat group, we discussed a host of things, some of which are as follows:
1) We are all in a conditioned state; meaning we are contaminated.
2) Getting free from this contamination is called mukti.
3) Consciousness can be described with the term “I am.”
4) When consciousness is contaminated, one declares, “I am Lord.”
5) When consciousness is purified it means, “I am servant.”
6) Purification comes in the form of co-operation with
I walked on ice, asphalt, rock-salt and snow
This is much like the make up of the world we know
They are elemental surfaces that exist under our feet
Diverse they are in colour, texture along the snowy heap
When walking in the winter you see less folks on the prowl
They are seasonal movers like some choosy night owl
The quiet is conducive for good meditational time
Which might get interrupted at a snow bank climb
Snuggled in coat, pants and favourable footwear
It becomes an exercise in brea
I was on Bloor St. and those pretty snowflakes were twirling down. That excited three young men, perhaps international students from India, whom I passed by. I know they were excited. I could see it on their tan faces, as they were clicking away and with some selfie efforts, they were taking in what they could of the magic with white lit lights all edged along the night street.
I thought for a moment as to whether I should introduce myself being that they likely would respond well. I did not ha
We were outside and kept our distance. We walked the trails, or rather "crunched" along, over the surface of icy snow. We made our noise and made it clear, with the sound of our footsteps, that we were present. There could not be louder footsteps even if we tried.
The "we" referred to are the Patel clan, from Muskoka. A dozen of us had arranged for a purely outdoor event, in a separated formation, simply through walking and celebrating.
What was the celebration all about?
Well, in early December
Corrado cycled over to Allen Gardens, with the mrdunga drum strapped to his back, and waited there for us walkers. This is a new strategy we’re trying. Each night, after our serenade of sorts (musical display at our stairwell facing the public), those on foot will reach a different park, get down on the grass and start chanting away. Corrado’s lugging the drum by his bicycle saves us time and a burden.
We reached the garden park, which is just across the street from our old temple/ashram, at 18
