Monday Morning Greetings 2026 #4 – How to Feel Bad About Yourself!

January 26th, 2026

I’m a hopeless optimist. A friend once joked: “You’re so optimistic that you could be falling out of the Empire State Building and on the fiftieth floor say, ‘So far so good.’ We laughed, but it is no joke.

 

A dose of pessimism, however, is essential for bhakti. I think I am realizing that increasingly with age. Hopefully my unhinged optimism is cracking. How?

 

The pain of purification

 

Devotion gradually cleans the heart and helps you see yourself, warts and all. When the mind is cluttered with desires it is often hard to notice our faults, like not noticing something out of place in a cluttered room. Finally, a glimpse of reality: How many lifetimes have I been parading as Pauṇḍraka?[1] Can I bear the pain of purification?

 

The pain of understanding God

 

How painful it is to conform one’s way of living to a truth higher than one’s whims and attachments. The Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam informs me page after page, “You are not up to the mark. Change!” Can I bear the pain of transformation?

 

The pain of realization

 

I not only understand a truth; I see a truth — a realization. That realization is so clear that I kick myself. “It’s so simple. How in the world did I miss that?” I am pained to have lived in ignorance. As more realizations inevitably come can I bear the pain of self-realization?

 

The pain of regret

 

Bhakti begins with regretting our previous life of selfishness separate from God and then surrendering to God. That first stage of spiritual commitment is called tapa, or remorse. Tapa also means heat. Such remorse is heat because it challenges or burns our false sense of superiority. “No, I am not wrong! It is not my fault! It wasn’t a mistake!” Am I strong enough to resist such rationalization and enter the path of devotion? Admit it; regret it. Let that acknowledgment burn your charade. Can I bear the heat of remorse?

 

The pain of opening the heart

 

The essence of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam is to chant the name of our beloved Lord without attachment or inhibition. Such simple-hearted sincerity is painful because the proud fear such vulnerability. Chanting means to open that heart fully and beg for the mercy of the holy name. Why the resistance? Can I bear the pain of opening my heart in devotion?

 

The joy of pain

 

The world is humbling, which is painful, but it doesn’t have to be ordinary suffering. If we can turn it into the soul’s aching for connection to God, it can be the birth of devotion and a source of the greatest joy.

 

And that’s how to feel bad about yourself on the path of Bhakti!

 

 


[1] A foolish king described in the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam who paraded around in the dress of Krishna and declared himself God but was later killed by Krishna.

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2026 #3 – Can Destiny Be Changed?

January 19th, 2026

Can Destiny Be Changed?

 

First, a story from the Jain tradition that sheds some initial light on our inquiry.

 

Five friends walk into a forest of mango trees to eat. In a very crass tone the first friend advises, “Cut down the tree!” “Why cut down the tree?” the next friend counters, “Just break off one branch.” “Why saw off the whole branch?” the third one protests, “Just break off the part where the mangos are.” The fourth suggests something more sensitive: “Why not just pick the mangos?” The fifth friend is even more considerate: “Why do we have to pick the mangos at all? Why not just take the ripe ones that have fallen on the ground?”[1]

 

The reactions of the different friends who desire the mangos from the tree represent different degrees of selfishness, with each requiring a commensurate level of atonement to nullify the offense.

 

For example, the person who wants to cut the whole tree is the most selfish and requires the strongest reaction to learn the lesson. No atonement would suffice, and only the full brunt of a karmic reaction could rectify the offense.

 

The person who just takes the ripe mangos that have fallen on the ground, but does not offer them to God, represents the least selfish alternative. To counteract the offense, simple sincere regret for the offense may be sufficient atonement.

 

The Jain text below commenting on our story sums up the science of atonement (nullifying egocentric acts):

 

If one unwittingly makes an imperceptible and minor mistake in dealing with someone, simply regretting one’s mistake may be sufficient to mitigate the reaction. For a more serious mistake an apology may do. An even more severe offense may require atonement. For the most egregious offenses, however, only by suffering a commensurate reaction to the offense can one be purified of that transgression. In such a case one’s destiny is certainly set in stone.

 

As one advances spiritually, however, one’s approach to altering destiny is not limited to atonement, especially as most of the karmic reactions we receive are connected to past acts that we are no longer even aware of. In other words, rather than merely putting one’s effort into preventing the ill fruits of one’s action, one counters one’s fate by the appropriate response to it.

 

After all, the real fruit of karma is the happiness and distress we feel, meted out by destiny. That certainly can be altered by understanding what is happening to us and appropriately responding to it. Socrates’ reaction to being condemned to death is a perfect example of this.

 

Socrates was sentenced to death by the Senate of Athens for the trumped-up charge of contaminating the youth with his teachings. He accepted his fate peacefully and made the simple request of being allowed to address his accusers.

 

His powerful words, recorded by Plato in “The Apology,” are worth pondering: “If you think you will harm me, you cannot harm me. You only will harm yourself.”

 

Socrates understood that we are eternal and that the real harm to us is acting against the interest of our soul. His thoughtful response therefore elevated his consciousness, while his accusers were karmically digging their own graves.

 

Was not Socrates’ fate changed by his enlightened perspective? Imagine the fate of a person in a similar situation but without his realization of the eternality of the soul. Would not that person’s fate be quite different? Therefore the best way to change our fate is by responding to our destiny with dharma or righteousness.

 

The Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam is filled with many such examples in which a deeper perspective on life alters the distress meted out by the mace of destiny, such as King Parīkṣit’s response to being cursed to die, or Vidura’s reaction to being banned from his kingdom by his evil nephew.

 

For this article I will just share Bhīṣmadeva’s advice to his grandson Yudhiṣṭhira, who inquired from him about how to digest his terrible fate in life. He suggested a way to gives us the realizations that ultimately elevates our consciousness and brings us true happiness:

 

There is no cause for despondency in life, no matter how trying circumstances get, if one, through understanding destiny as God’s beneficent and absolute will, does three things. One should bow one’s head in gratitude, respond in righteousness, and do so under one’s qualified mentors, thus extracting the fruit of destiny, a personal realization elevating one to a better life.[2]

 

To sum up: We can best counter destiny, which is ultimately our distress and happiness, by appropriately responding to destiny rather than changing it. In this way, by extracting the fruit of destiny, which is the realization meant to elevate our consciousness, we remain free from despondency. And in that sense we can change the essence of our destiny, which ultimately is our happiness and distress.

 

Although I am approaching my preferred word count, I think it will be very helpful in negotiating this challenging concept to add two analogies. They demonstrate that while the broad parameters of our destiny are mostly fixed, within those parameters our destiny can still be changed by how we view and experience it.

 

Example 1

Destiny is like being on a rocky road to a particular destination that we have no choice but to follow. In that sense destiny is fixed. One can, however, pave that road to make the journey smooth. In other words, within the parameters of our fate we can certainly mitigate our karmic reactions, and in that way change our fate.

 

Example 2

Destiny is like being dealt a bad hand in poker. Your cards are fixed. Still, if you play your cards properly you can minimize your losses or even win. This is a nice analogy to show both the fixed nature of destiny and the ability to change it by how we play our hand.

 

Can destiny be changed? In the most important way, yes! I will leave you with Rumi:

 

“When providence seems to be digging a hole to throw us in, it is actually planning to quench our thirst by drawing water from the ground.”

 

 


[1] This story is from a Jain treatise on karma that a friend shared with me many years ago when I was preparing a seminar on karma.

[2] This is my summary of Bhīṣmadeva’s instructions from Bhāgavatam 1.9.12-15.

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2026 #2 – Marilyn Monroe Died!

January 12th, 2026

Marilyn Monroe Died![1]

 

Note: This morning, I realized the Monday Morning Greetings post I was working on, titled “Rasa Theory Made Simple,” was not simple at all. I would never be able to explain such an esoteric subject within the two-page limit I generally set for my posts. And furthermore, I doubted I could accomplish such a task in the time I had. I thought I might search my archives for an article I could reprint, but first I thought just to click on the news for a minute and see what was happening in the world. I then stopped myself. I’m on an internet fast, at least from the news. So I began searching for a suitable reprint from at least six years ago and lo and behold, what is the first thing I hit upon? It was “Marilyn Monroe Died!”—a topic about “no news”. I thought it was a perfect article to reprint as it’s so commensurate with some of my realizations this week. That is generally how I come up with a subject to write about in the first place.

 

So, here is a substantially rewritten reprint of “Marilyn Monroe Died!”.

 

Marilyn Monroe Died!

 

My friend visited a renowned saint in Vrindavan. I am not sure why — it seemed a bit inappropriate — but he asked him, “What was the last thing you heard in the news?” I guess he had heard that when this saint arrived in Vrindavan in 1962 he vowed to never again hear anything of this world. The kind bābā searched his memory for a second. His matter of fact answer took my friend aback: “Marilyn Monroe died!” Soon after, my friend related this conversation to me. I was impressed.

 

Last week I got a similar message. It reminded me of the vow of that saint.

 

I was texting back and forth with a friend who had just finished some research work in Vrindavan and decided to stay a few weeks more. At the end of our conversation, I casually asked him a more personal question: “How is your bhajan?” His texts surprised me:

 

“Chanting 64 rounds

And reading Bhāgavatam for hours a day

It’s so amazing how Vṛndāvana is so different in summer

Nothing going on

You are the only one I shared actually

I never knew it’s possible

I also left social media. I use none whatsoever.”

 

The last line, “none whatsoever,” struck me. Although I am not personally on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram, I do read about the world. But how much could my meditation improve if the input of the world, with its distractions, likes, hates, and dualities, was completely shut off?

 

I began to think of those friends that seem to go much deeper than others in their chanting of the holy name. They all seem to have, to one degree or another, one thing in common. In terms of social media, they are all in the school of “Marilyn Monroe died,” so to speak.

 

I thought, yes, media, “none whatsoever.” What is the use of having the mind stimulated with so many thoughts that are of no use to the soul? Why not go even deeper into the holy name? Time is short.

 

I recalled a talk that I had listened to recently that seemed relevant to what I was thinking:

 

Simon Sinek described how the constant use of social media has the same chemical effect on the brain as any form of addiction, from gambling to alcohol.[2] They all produce an inordinate amount of dopamine, the chemical in the brain that activates the nucleus accumbens, the brain’s pleasure or reward center. [3]In time, as the nucleus accumbens is over-stimulated by dopamine, it naturally adapts, requiring one to take more and more of the addictive substance to obtain the same dopamine “high.” Compulsion takes over, and one is addicted. And here’s the real point that struck me: “If you arise in the morning and the first thing you do is check your computer you are addicted!”

 

Okay, I am using “media” to research and write this. Certainly, it has many good uses. Compassionate souls may research the world to comment on it with spiritual insight. Even Śrīla Prabhupada occasionally wrote or spoke on “that rascal Nixon” or “a prayer day in the U.S. Senate” and other worldly events to illustrate his point.

 

But here’s the question. How much external news does one need in Krishna’s service? The cultured sādhu retired in Vṛndāvana didn’t need any. And how much do you require for the service of Krishna?

 

If attentive chanting is our problem, or if we want to go much deeper into the holy name, perhaps this is the cause — too much absorption in what Śrīla Prabhupada called “the world of names.”

 

“The great kings, leaders and soldiers fight with one another to perpetuate their names in history. They are forgotten in due course of time, and they make a place for another era of history. But the devotee realizes how much history and historical places are useless products of flickering time.” (Bhāgavatam 2.2.3, purport)

 


[1] This is a rewritten reprint from July 8, 2019.

[2] Simon Sinek on Millennials in the Workplace — https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hER0Qp6QJNU

[3] This explanation of the effects of dopamine mentioned in Simon Sinek’s talk comes from article on addiction from Harvard Heath Publishing a division of Harvard Medical School. https://www.health.harvard.edu/newsletter_article/how-addiction-hijacks-the-brain

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2026 #1 – The Art of the Essay and Happy Tenth Birthday, Monday Morning Greetings!

January 5th, 2026

That’s over five hundred original essays! In my first essay of every year, I celebrate the birth of my blog by writing about writing.

 

One thing that I am proud of, and I hope that doesn’t sound egotistic, is that I have honed my craft. I write about that every year. This year, specifically I want to share some writing about writing by some prominent American authors that encouraged me to feel that my craft is going in the right direction.

 

Robert AtwanThe four qualities of a good essay

 

The essay is a particular genre of writing. Years ago, to hone my essay writing, I started to read anthologies of notable essays from the beginning of the genre, which is credited to Montaigne. Every year, I would get the anthology of American Best Essays founded by Robert Atwan, the series editor since its inception forty years ago.

 

I was especially interested in his foreword each year. In these, he extensively discusses in different ways the genre of essays.  In one piece he outlined “four qualities we can find in all essays that have lasted beyond their moment of composition: 1) they explore original ideas about specific topics; 2) they include the vivid presence of the writer who readers can discern and track; 3) they incorporate moments of both self-awareness and skepticism primarily through reflection; and 4) they resist what Atwan calls “standardization” in content or form.

 

I thought, “this is what I try to do!” I hope my audience can sees this too in my writing.

 

I also related to this reference:

 

“[E]very work, be it fiction or serious treatise, is embalmed in some fantastic wrappage, some mad narrative accounting for its appearance, and connecting it with the author, who generally becomes a person in the drama itself, before all is over.”

 

—Thomas Carlyle, on Jean Paul Richter (1827).

 

Ernest Hemingway – Seven Tips for Good Writing[1]

 

Ernest Hemingway was a Nobel Prize-winning American novelist, short story writer and journalist. Recently, I came across several of his tips for writing. I felt gratified that without ever being taught those principles, I had already incorporated some of them in my own writing. These were the points I especially related to:

 

2: Stop writing for the day while you still know what’s coming next.

 

“Always stop when you’re going well and know what will happen next. That way, you’ll avoid getting stuck.”

 

4: Begin each writing session by reading what you’ve written so far.

 

“When it gets too long to read it all, go back a couple of chapters each day. Then each week, read from the beginning. This practice helps one reconnect with his story’s flow and keep continuity.”

 

5: Don’t describe emotions—create them.

 

“Newspaper writing tells what happened, often creating emotion through timeliness. Real writing, however, conveys the emotion as truthfully as possible. Instead of explaining feelings, let readers feel through the action and dialogue.”

 

7: Be brief.

 

“The Gettysburg Address was brief by design. The rules of prose are as unchanging as those of physics. Use valued concise, powerful prose that make every word count.”

 

Roy Peter Clark –“Murder your darlings”

 

Roy Clark is an American writer, editor, and writing coach. One of his most famous works on writing advice is called “Murder Your Darlings.”[2]

 

He wrote:

 

“Ask yourself, ‘Am I including this because it provides the reader with a memorable and delightful piece of evidence to prove the point of my text? Or is it beside the point even though it reveals what a good wordsmith I am?’ In other words, the phrase, sentence, or paragraph that’s the most precious to you, but doesn’t really add anything to your thesis, must go.”

 

I think this is one the most important things I Iearned about writing. It took me some time before I got it, but I am ruthless now in removing anything, no matter how seemingly profound or charming, that doesn’t serve the flow and focus of my writing. “Murder Your Darlings” is an essential writing tip.

 

Stephen King – “The adverb is not your friend”

 

The Adverb is Not Your Friend[3] is an essay by the famous novelist Stephen King that was shared with me by one of my writing mentors. I followed his advice of eliminating unnecessary adverbs, which means most. It made me a better writer.

 

It is beyond the scope of my post here to elaborate, but I recommend you read that essay The Adverb is Not Your Friend, if you want to be a better writer

 

All the posts for the past year can be found on www.wavesofdevotion.com. If you have the time and inclination I would appreciate if you could send me your favorite Monday Morning Greetings. Feedback helps me to focus on what to write.

 

All the best for a prosperous and spiritually uplifting New Year from Monday Morning Greetings!

 

 


[1] These tips aren’t from a single formal essay by Hemingway but are compiled from his letters, interviews, and essays, particularly those later collected in the book Ernest Hemingway on Writing (edited by Larry W. Phillips).

[2] https://barbaraleeharper.com/2023/04/25/murder-your-darlings/

[3] https://mecheng.iisc.ac.in/cnuiisc/DSRC/be.iisc.ac/13_StephenKing_adverb_is_not_your_friend.pdf

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2025 #53 – The Philosopher’s Corner: Quandary I

December 29th, 2025

Quandary I:

 

If God is perfect and complete, how can we possibly increase His pleasure? And if we can’t, is there any purpose to our devotion?

 

Response:

 

God wouldn’t be God if He wasn’t perfect and complete. But He also wouldn’t be God if His pleasure couldn’t increase. Thus, our devotion can increase God’s pleasure.

 

Explanation:

 

We find these types of quandaries puzzling only because of a basic philosophical fallacy. We tend to confine the possibilities of what God can do to reasoning based on our experience of universal natural laws. God, by definition, however, is not subject to natural laws. He’s governed only by His will.

 

Space and time, for example, do not rule God. All His activities and experiences are therefore not temporal. Thus, both His ontological nature and the expansion of His pleasure are perfect and complete and can co-exist at the same time. This phenomenon is described in the Śrī Īśopaniṣad:

 

“The Personality of Godhead is perfect and complete, and because He is completely perfect, all emanations from Him, such as this phenomenal world, are perfectly equipped as complete wholes. Whatever is produced of the Complete Whole is also complete in itself. Because He is the Complete Whole, even though so many complete units emanate from Him, He remains the complete balance.” Śrī Īśopaniṣad, Invocation

 

Further confirmation comes from śāstra:

 

“‘The highest degree’ indicates greatness that has reached its ultimate peak. But in fact, that endless happiness has no limit.” Bṛhad-bhāgavatāmṛta 2.2.192

 

Commentary:

 

“The glories of devotional service are difficult to describe without straining the capacity of words. The phrase parā kāṣṭhā (‘highest degree’) implies that no higher degree exists. But the happiness of pure devotional service never reaches a final peak. It keeps on increasing forever. Calling it the parā kāṣṭhā of happiness is only a poetic attempt to do it justice with words available in human language.”

 

Śrīla Prabhupāda illustrates this principle:

 

Śrīla Prabhupāda was asked if God can do anything, can he create a rock that he can’t lift. His answer, “Yes, and then he would lift it!” In other words, not being confined by time, both events can co-exist eternally.

 

In other words, it is reasonable that in the realm of God, contradictory events can exist simultaneously by His inconceivable potency.

 

Śrīla Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura affirms this principle:

 

Śrīla Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura wrote about this in an essay, “The Potency that Removes All Contradictions.”

 

“Sri Krishna, the embodiment of eternality, absolute knowledge, and unlimited bliss, possesses an inconceivable potency called virodha-bhanjika-śakti (removing all contradictions). By the influence of this potency, all contradictory principles and natures are unified and eternally present.”[1]

 

Final Challenge:

 

If God is above reason and anything is possible by His acintya śakti (inconceivable potency), then what mechanism does one have to dispute any claim about God or use reason to affirm his existence?

 

When we say that God has inconceivable potency that transcends the natural laws that are the basis of reasoning, it doesn’t mean that reasoning or logical inference (anumāna) is not an important method of knowing, even knowing many aspects of God’s existence. It means that when it comes to knowing God’s special nature and the realm of His internal potency, we cannot limit our understanding of God by logical reasoning alone. We must rely on scripture aided by the guidance of guru and the realizations born of prayer and meditation.

 

Simply put, the fact that God is above reason, doesn’t mean he is below reason.

 

Resolution to Quandary I:

 

Our humble devotion, if done without motive, can increase the happiness of God.

 

How wonderful is Krishna!

 


[1] I have written about this and have provided Śrīla Bhaktivinoda’s full essay https://wavesofdevotion.com/2025/07/07/the-potency-that-removes-all-contradictions/

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2025 #52 – Is Wearing Vaiṣṇava Dress Important?

December 22nd, 2025

Is Wearing Vaiṣṇava Dress Important?[1]

 

When Śrīla Prabhupāda came to the West he wore the typical dress of an Indian sādhu. The male followers he recruited basically wore the same. He also wore a kurtā, a stitched upper garment, which was introduced to India from outside. But the general simple cloth dress devotees wore, featuring a lower garment for men which was unstitched and wrapped and saris for women, was very much like the dress Krishna and the residents of Vrindavan wore. At least that is how Krishna’s dress was depicted in Vaiṣṇava painting and iconography for thousands of years. And this artwork was often done or supervised by realized Vaiṣṇavas with internal realization of what Krishna looked like based on the Bhāgavatam.

 

“Wearing a peacock-feather ornament upon His head, blue karṇikāra flowers on His ears, a yellow garment as brilliant as gold, and the Vaijayantī garland, Lord Kṛṣṇa exhibited His transcendental form as the greatest of dancers as He entered the forest of Vṛndāvana, beautifying it with the marks of His footprints. He filled the holes of His flute with the nectar of His lips, and the cowherd boys sang His glories.” Bhāgavatam 10.21.5

 

During Śrīla Prabhupāda’s time the devotees almost always wore Indian dress. Of course, at the time ISKCON was more or less monastic. Even married people who joined ISKCON lived in the ashram, were maintained by the temple, and served either as fulltime missionaries or did essential services supporting that mission. Wearing robes served a purpose. After all, ISKCON’s audience for their outreach were mostly disaffected youth who were attracted to India and alternative lifestyles. The requirement to dress just like devotees did not act as an impediment. Rather, it popularized the movement. The tactic was successful. Many people joined.

 

After Śrīla Prabhupāda left, the movement changed. Hardly any devotees now live in the ashrams, and ISKCON members are mostly middle-aged or older. The audience for outreach is no longer disaffected youth, but people in the world. Is offering a chance to become “Indian” still a good way to help present what Śrīla Prabhupāda came to give?

 

Let me relate and comment on a personal story that I think will bring this discussion further along.

 

Over twenty years ago, my personal secretary, who was the chief secretary of a major advertising agency on Madison Avenue, invited me to her company on “Dress Down Friday.” Once a month the company allowed its employees to dress casually. I was invited to come in the afternoon.

 

When I came, there was a large computer printout on the wall that read “WELCOME HARE KRISHNA.” I went from office to office where the people were eager to meet me until I reached the end of the long corridor which opened into a larger reception area. Many of the people I visited followed me. There the production manager came out of her office to greet me. When I gave her a lush Radha Govinda rose garland from the temple she practically melted onto the floor. She then asked me respectfully, “Why do you dress that way?”

 

I explained that my dress was like a uniform, in that is not essential for my duties, but has a utility. I gave the example of policemen. Although their uniforms help people identity them as officers of the law and engenders a martial mood, they could also do the same job as plainclothesmen. Similarly, wearing robes helps others recognize a devotee of Krishna and engenders a mood of devotion, although one could certainly practice devotion in ordinary dress without any spiritual impediment. I explained further that for devotees living in the world, at least in the West, it seems more practical to wear the clothes of their local culture, and that mostly my dress was useful for monastics, priests, and personal worship.

 

So based on my experience here is what is what I concluded:

 

The most important principle in dress is dressing respectfully, especially when approaching God. There are certainly times when wearing “devotional clothes” has utility in causing devotees of Krishna to be recognized and in engendering a devotional mood. Realized preachers understand where, for whom, and in what circumstances the dress that Śrīla Prabhupāda brought from India has relevance and when it is a distraction. Like anything else in Krishna consciousness, effective application of any principle depends on the intelligence and realization of the person applying it.

 

Of course, being identified as a monk, if one truly is one, usually brings respect, even in the West. Vaiṣṇava dress is certainly a respectful and clean way to approach God.

 

For me, I am a monk and mostly live in India. Vaiṣṇava dress suits me in every way, wherever I go and whatever I am doing.

 

For you: Chant and be happy!

 


[1] Just before I was to send this to my editor, I found out that I published a similar article two and a half years ago. I decided to still publish this one as it deals with the subject from a different angle.

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2025 #51 – Damn the Expedient!

December 15th, 2025

Damn the Expedient![1]

 

It bothers me when people, knowingly or unknowingly, neglect or minimize what is right in favor of what they see as convenient or practical. It is called expediency. Perhaps that bothers all of us. I know it especially irks me. I pray to be free from this tendency.

 

People who manage seem particularly susceptible to minimizing or neglecting what is proper and focusing on what is seemingly practical. All of us are challenged regularly, however, with such choices, especially when the issue is somewhat subtle. In such situations, only the thoughtful and saintly can consistently avoid the lure of seeking a material advantage, and risking their soul, in lieu of what is right.

 

Risking their soul? For each step forward in life we have a myriad of choices to make, some more crucial than others. The soul is consciousness that reaches its fulfillment in selflessness or devotion. Dharma is the science of making the choice that moves one towards a clearer conception of the self as selfless and devoted. All other choices, by virtue of being self-serving, only further obscure that vision. So yes, expediency is at the cost of the soul.

 

It is no wonder, therefore, that this promotion of dharma and the concomitant warning against expediency rests at the root of classical Indian thought. In fact, one of the most famous moral guides in India is the Kauilya Sūtras (aphorisms) by Cāṇakya Paṇḍita, which was written specifically to temper the lure of expediency by promoting dharma, especially for those in positions of leadership. The first aphorism sets the tone for the book by highlighting the fruit of dharma, doing what is right in the face of expediency.

 

sukhasya mūla dharma

The root of happiness is dharma, righteousness.

 

If the Kauilya Sūtras is an important moral guidebook found in classical Indian literature, the Bhagavad-gītā is an even more prominent book of classical Indian thought. The same message that dharma, not expedience, leads to auspiciousness is also stressed there. That can especially be seen in the connection between its first and last verse, which is significant, as the first and last verse of a book are one of the important indications of a book’s theme according to classical hermeneutics. Here is something I wrote about this point in a previous Monday Morning Greetings:

 

In the very first verse of the Gītā, King Dhtarāra inquires from Sañjaya, his mystical advisor, about the impending battle at Kuruketra between his sons and the sons of Pāṇḍu led by Arjuna:

“Dhtarāra said: O Sañjaya, after assembling in the place of pilgrimage at Kuruketra, what did my sons and the sons of Pāṇḍu do, being desirous to fight?”

The commentators explain that although Dhtarāra is concerned with how the holy place will influence the battle, he expected victory in this ugly fratricidal war because of the greater size of his son’s army.[2] The verse also forebodes victory for the sons of Pāṇḍu. The battlefield is a place of pilgrimage (dharma-kṣetra) and Krishna, who upholds and protects dharma (righteousness), is on their side.

The last verse of the Gītā states its conclusion and answers Dhtarāra’s initial inquiry definitively:

“Wherever there is Krishna, the master of all mystics, and wherever there is Arjuna, the supreme archer, there will also certainly be opulence, victory, extraordinary power, and morality. That is my opinion.”

The connection seems obvious, although I have never seen it stated. The first verse is a view of the battle through the eyes of a materialist filled with anxiety about a situation he cannot control, calculating success based on one’s personal power rather than doing what’s right. In contrast the last verse, spoken by his advisor Sañjaya is a view of that same world through the eyes of a spiritualist, seeing success or victory not by expedience or material superiority, but by choosing righteousness or dharma. Dharma here is represented by the presence of Krishna, the master of all mystics, and His devotee Arjuna, the supreme archer. (“The Talking Book,” Monday Morning Greetings 2017 #48)

 

So the Gītā also says, “Damn the Expedient!” I pray never again to fall prey to it.

 

“Cowardice asks: Is it safe? Expediency asks: Is it politic? But conscience asks: Is it right?” — William Morley Punshon

 

 


[1] This is a reprint from June 17, 2019. I now have almost 12 years of Monday Morning Greetings. Many or most of my readers have signed up to receive them in the years that followed. For the earliest readers, it’s difficult to remember ones written so long ago. Therefore, when I am engaged in other writing projects and don’t have as much time to complete a new one, I have no qualms about re-editing and posting an old one. Although you may see me do this more frequently now, I still hope it will not be too frequent.

[2] Before the battle the sons of Dhṛtarāṣṭra were given the choice of either Krishna or Krishna’s armies. They chose Krishna’s armies which gave them even more confidence in their military superiority. It proved to have been an expedient choice.

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2025 #50 – Some Sannyāsī!

December 8th, 2025

 

Some Sannyāsī![1]

 

I was sitting on a wooden bed in my small room in Vrindavan. The floor was packed with visiting Iranian Vaiṣṇavas. Consistent with their refined culture, they piled their gifts next to me on my bed. There were dozens of fresh pomegranates as big as my head (well, almost), boxes of the best pistachios in the world, sweet lemons, dates, figs, and orange blossom cookies. And that is just a partial list. You get the idea. My bed was filled to the rafters, so to speak, with an ocean of exotic Persian goodies. Suddenly in walks Bhaktin Meaghan, an actress from New York. She squeezed into the small space next to the bed, paid obeisances, and then looked up at the mountain of fine delicacies on my bed right above her and quips, “Some sannyāsī!” There is nothing like playfully irreverent New York humor. I loved it.

 

But twenty years later I’m still “some sannyāsī!”

 

I needed to leave India for a week for visa reasons. I chose Thailand because of its proximity to India, and I have one student there whose family would cook for me and bring prasādam. When a friend found out about my trip, he made me a deal I could not refuse. He offered to pay for my tickets and the hotel! When I arrived, I had no idea he would book the best. I couldn’t imagine a more majestic five-star palace. To make matters worse, the receptionist saw me in my sannyāsa robes and demonstrated how much people in that country revere monks. She gave me what looked like the king’s suite. The room was even much better than the one my patron paid for! So, I did what I usually do wherever I am. I looked at the place through the eyes of the śāstra.

 

Here’s what I saw.

 

The Science of Material Enjoyment

 

These places employ the science of comfort to perfection. From the construction and organization of the rooms to the attentiveness of the staff, there was nothing I could think of that might be lacking in terms of hospitality. Each guest is treated like God. When the environment moves according to one’s desires it creates a sense that one is the enjoyer and controller. So I observed people practically floating around the place in that mode of happiness.

 

Duality

 

There is sand in the sweet rice, as the saying goes. As nice as something might be, it just takes one small thing to ruin it. I remember when I was young how much I hated school and the joy of Friday. By Sunday the joy was already mixed with the dread of Monday. I would have to return to the grade level factory of modern education that I abhorred. It’s the “last meal on death row” phenomenon. How can we enjoy something that will soon end to be replaced by what we hate or even fear? So yes, people floated around in a mode of happiness but was it real joy? Could they ever escape the existential dread of the problems that the temporality of their lives offered?

 

Happiness is consciousness not things

 

The face is the index of the mind. As much as the guests were lavished with comfort and served heavenly delights, their joy could not match that of the simple smiles of the humble Thai people who served them. They almost assuredly lived in simple families with modest amenities. The contrast in countenance, however, was stark, showing that happiness is consciousness not things.

 

Logos (a divine rational order)

 

There is a divine rational order. I wrote about this extensively.[2] Basically, there is objective truth, a standard of beauty and so on, and when things are done according to those standards it creates a sense of harmony. This hundred- room hotel features a large courtyard of pools, waterways, and gardens with small forest bowers, all weaving around the hotel. It’s stunning. My patron even joked that it’s “sannyāsī-proof.” He noticed my black marker had stained the couch in my room. He thought he would be charged for the damage but was amazed when he frantically started to rub the stains with a damp towel. It so easily wiped clean. Is there anything they have not thought of?! Anyway, I love when I see things done in a manner according to the right standards. It reminds me of God, even when used the wrong way.

 

Some sannyāsī

 

As I am writing this in the early morning sitting on my large balcony overlooking the marvelous gardens and waterways, I think of the simple sadhus of Govardhan and how they live happily in the simplest dwellings. I can’t help but hanker for Braja. I then look at myself and think “some sannyāsī!”

 

 


[1] The word “some” can be used sarcastically as an ironic understatement to imply that something is worthless or far below expectations.

[2] https://wavesofdevotion.com/2025/01/27/logos-logic-and-prasādam-2/

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2025 #49 – Until We Got Nothing but God

December 1st, 2025

I attended some very good lectures at the Govardhan Retreat Center this week. Many good points were made but one stood out.

 

“Old age takes away everything until we are left with nothing but Him.”[1]

 

How true! The nature of this world, especially old age, seems to rob us of everything superficial and temporary until our only recourse is to take shelter of Him, who is our only solace. A faithful theist sees all this as mercy.

 

As I further contemplated this point, I realized how much this sober description of how the world works to liberate us from our false identity. This is a foundational point of Vaiṣṇava theology. In fact, it is the very definition of mukti given in the Bhāgavatam:

 

“Liberation is the permanent situation of the form of the living entity after he gives up the changeable gross and subtle material bodies.” Bhāgavatam 2.10.6

 

A true devotee thus determinedly tries to shed or purify material designations and consciously embrace eternal identity:

 

“I am not a brāhmaṇa, I am not a kṣatriya, I am not a vaiśya or a śūdra. Nor am I a brahmacārī, a householder, a vānaprastha or a sannyāsī. I identify myself only as the servant of the servant of the servant of the lotus feet of Lord Śrī Kṛṣṇa, the maintainer of the gopīs.” Padyāvalī 74

 

The method of shedding this false conception of life is to engage the senses in the service of God. In fact, it is the very definition of bhakti:

 

Bhakti, or devotional service, means engaging all our senses in the service of the Lord, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, the master of all the senses. When the spirit soul renders service unto the Supreme, there are two side effects. One is freed from all material designations, and one’s senses are purified simply by being employed in the service of the Lord.” Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu 1.1.12.

 

And only when one does this can one sincerely and with feeling approach God:

 

“My Lord, Your Lordship can easily be approached, but only by those who are materially exhausted. One who is on the path of [material] progress, trying to improve himself with respectable parentage, great opulence, high education and bodily beauty, cannot approach You with sincere feeling.” Bhāgavatam 1.8.26

 

Let me finish today with my own “until we got nothing but God” experience:

 

My world was moving rapidly away from how I wanted it to be. It seemed all I had left was God. Perhaps this was over twenty years ago. I took shelter of that quaint isolated cabin in Gītā-nagarī on the river where the saintly Satsvarūpa Mahārāja wrote Śrīla Prabhupāda’s biography. For days I chanted all day. A strong realization came:

 

“What I was doing, serving God by chanting His names, and the identity of the person doing it (I am the eternal soul who is the servant of God), does not end with this body. All the other things I was doing for pleasure based on the false ego (I am this body) ends with death and is filled with duality and fear. I was suddenly imbued with fearlessness. My petty problems began to seem superficial. I felt great relief.”

 

Until we got nothing but God. What mercy!

 

 


[1] From a lecture by Śrīmān Bhūrijana dāsa.

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2025 #48 – Sādhus of Vṛndāvana

November 24th, 2025

Sādhus of Vndāvana [1]

 

A question recently came to my mind. I have lived here in Vṛndāvana for almost forty-four years. Why?

 

Of course, the main reason I am here is that my sevā, or service, is here. I help pilgrims, especially from abroad, to enter, understand, and experience Vṛndāvana.

 

I am also here because there are sādhus or saintly people that live or visit here and I benefit from their association. And that is the subject of this week’s Monday Morning Greetings.

 

Sādhu I

 

A friend shared his efforts during Kārttika to deepen his attraction for the holy name of Krishna. He described a moment of intense disappointment and frustration. Despite his effort to just focus on chanting, he was not getting what he wanted. He subtly told me that he was so desperate that he almost began to question the practice itself. At that point his heart suddenly opened. His  experience of the holy name became deeper than ever before.

 

The only thing separating us from a full revelation of God is our desire to embrace His grace. The sādhu’s extreme disappointment was only a reflection of his intense desire to be with Krishna and serve Him in the form of His holy name. I am grateful for such company.

 

Sādhu II

 

Another friend just arrived. Every year he spends the winter in Govardhana. His health is so chronic and debilitating that he can only leave his bed for five or six hours a day before again collapsing in exhaustion. We met and compared notes. He shared that although he is in more pain than ever before. his meditation on the holy name keeps on deepening. It confirmed for me a very important point — the holy name is non-different from Krishna. His appearance is therefore not ultimately dependent on one’s ability and effort to produce it. How else to explain meditation on the holy name increasing even when the body is ravaged with pain? The holy name manifests by its own will in response to one’s sincere desire to serve Krishna. The association of such devotees is priceless.

 

Sādhu III— A Remembrance

 

When word came to me that Śrīla Prabhupāda’s godbrother Akiñcana Krishna dāsa Bābājī was hospitalized and near death, I immediately rushed to the CFC hospital in Vṛndāvana. That was more than thirty-five years ago. Bābājī Mahārāja was famous for chanting the holy name non-stop day and night. Even Śrīla Prabhupāda described him as having no material desires and at the highest level of devotion.[2] Unfortunately, by the time I arrived he had already departed for Nandagrāma, the home of Krishna, where he would soon leave the world. As Bābājī Mahārāja had left the hospital only minutes before, the doctor was still in the room. I inquired from him about his patient’s condition. What he told me was astounding. Although Bābājī Mahārāja had been unconscious when the doctor put his stethoscope to his heart, he heard the constant repetition of the holy name. I didn’t doubt what I was told and years later it was confirmed. I was studying a book on classical meditation for a course I was teaching. It described that the perfection of chanting a mantra after years of concentrated practice is that the mantra becomes so deeply embedded in the subconscious that it continues non-stop without extraneous effort!

 

How fortunate to meet the sādhus of Vṛndāvana!

 

“The verdict of all revealed scriptures is that by even a moment’s association with a pure devotee, one can attain all success.” (Cc. Madhya-līlā 22.54)

 

 


[1] This is a highly edited entry originally published from November 25, 2019.

[2] “Śrīla Prabhupāda himself had spoken of Akiñcana Krishna dāsa Bābājī as nikiñcana, ‘having no material attachments,’ and paramahasa, ‘a swanlike pure devotee.’” From Akiñcana Krishna dāsa Bābājī’s obituary in Back to Godhead, June 1982.

 

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