Monday Morning Greetings 2025 #47 – What I Learned from Blind Hockey
Dhanurdhara Swami November 17th, 2025
Paul[1] is a reasonably successful professional film maker who is based in Govardhan in the winter with his wife Kristina, who owns and manages several high-end boutiques in Toronto. Although Kristina by nature very much likes exquisite and fine things, the inner spiritual beauty of this outwardly rather unrefined Indian town captured her heart. She strongly wanted to stay. Anyway, they wound up as my neighbors, and we became friends. This evening, I am very much looking forward to Paul’s visit to show me the final cut of his new documentary Blind Hockey to get my input.
Blind hockey? I was as surprised as you. Although it follows the basic guidelines of traditional hockey like having five players and a goalie, here are a few of the adjustments made in the rules that makes it work:
The puck is larger (about 5½ inches in diameter), made of metal, and filled with ball bearings so it makes noise when it moves allowing players to track it by sound.
Teams use verbal communication constantly — calling “pass,” “shot,” etc. — to keep everyone oriented.
All players must have under 15 percent vision. The players are divided into three groups and classified based on their level of visual impairment:
- B1 (red helmet): Totally blind (goalies must be in this category)
- B2 (white helmet): 3-5 percent vision. Can barely recognize shapes but certainly not any details.
- B3 (black helmets): Over five but under 15 percent vision. Everything is just a deep blur.
Teams are balanced so that both sides have a mix of players, thus ensuring fair play.
These are my realizations watching blind hockey.
Gratitude
Naturally when watching something like this, one begins to think how horrible it would be to be blind. It is just wonderful to see the beauty of the world and to be able to function independently with the help of clear vision. We, however, take our sight for granted. Watching blind hockey increased my gratitude for the vision God gave me and all the other gifts of God I take for granted.
Is Our Sight Worth It?
I wonder, however, if most of us would be better off devotionally without our sight. Imagine no more scrolling, wasting our time on social media, and for some even peeping at things we shouldn’t. Perhaps we would use that time in chanting and hearing about Krishna, rather than degrading our consciousness in frivolity. The Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam warns us in a poetic way how useless the senses can be.
“The eyes which do not look at the symbolic representations of the Personality of Godhead Viṣṇu [His forms, name, quality, etc.] are like those printed on the plumes of the peacock…” Bhāgavatam 2.3.22
And more than useless, our senses can degrade us. Is our sight worth it? Hmm?
Ultimately happiness is consciousness not things
There was a sociological experiment that compared the happiness of two groups over a five-year period. It involved those who had just become quadriplegics and those who had just became lottery winners. At the beginning those who became quadriplegics were naturally depressed and those who won the lottery elated. At the end of five years there was absolutely no difference in their happiness. What happened? My take: Those who won the lottery spent more of their time trying to control and enjoy the world which ultimately depresses the consciousness, while those who were quadriplegic were forced to spend more time developing a better mental approach to life. That type of work raises the consciousness. Watching Blind Hockey I got the impression that these visually impaired athletes were not any less happy than those with full vision reaffirming that ultimately happiness is more a matter of our consciousness than anything else.
I watched the film and gave Paul my feedback. I very much liked the film, but I had to frankly tell Paul that the audio was muddled and difficult to hear. It was just terrible. Paul is an accomplished professional who knows his craft. He therefore looked at me puzzled as if to politely question what in the world I was talking about? It suddenly occurred to me to raise my hand to the back of my ears to check my hearing aids. The casing wasn’t shut, so the battery was not activated. My hearing was impaired the whole time! We laughed hysterically. What an image. The hearing impaired sannyāsī watching blind hockey!
I enjoyed Paul’s visit. A good time was had by all.
And that’s what I learned from blind hockey.
[1] If you want to find out about Blind Hockey and other works by Paul Dombrovskis check his Instagram https://www.instagram.com/pauldombrovskis/ and https://pauldombrovskis.com/.