After a day of chanting, discussion, calls, a class, a nap, a reading and some eating (broccoli stalks), I went out to meet the snow. It was a powdery type, drifting and blowing.
I was not the only one out during that night hour. Others, with their leashed dogs, had also come out, away from the mantelpiece, to perhaps greet winter. It has not become the intense sensation of weather just yet. Most likely the white will disappear in three days.
I was, however, the only one with japa beads as my leash. No dogs for me. Our ashram wouldn’t allow such pets. Nothing against them. They have their place.
This happened to be the eve of our guru’s departure from this world. Srila Prabhupada passed away on Nov. 14th, 1977, in Vrindavana, India—Krishna’s place of birth, and so it is, indeed, a very sacred place.
With these few steps I’ve taken in our neighbourhood I had the time to concentrate mentally on how my life is blessed. I could have been a tragic case had I not taken to this life of bhakti, devotion. I feel so grateful that such a benefactor as Prabhupada has touched my life in a favourable way. Although he never spoke to me, personally, I’ve learned all that I know from him, through his books and through his students. I understand that it is by the way of Krishna’s representatives that we connect with Him.
It was an evening walk of serenity. Source: http://thewalkingmonk.blogspot.com/2020/11/tuesday-november-17th-2020.html
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