->

Archive for August, 2022

Monday Morning Greetings 2022 #35 – EQ, IQ, and the Path of Bhakti

August 29th, 2022

I knew Champak’s work had something so do with leadership seminars at GP Strategies,[1] but until the Cali retreat last week, I didn’t know the specifics of what she did and taught. We finally had time to discuss that in more detail. I was particularly interested in a seminar that she devised and taught called Leading with Emotional Intelligence and its relevance to the path of bhakti.

 

Emotional intelligence is the ability to make heathy choices based on accurately identifying, understanding, and managing your feelings and the feelings of others, an ability based on being self-aware.[2] Obviously, if we are not aware of our emotions and don’t have some sense of their cause, we inevitably will act upon them without awareness of whether they are justified or beneficial. You see all the time well-intentioned people having no idea how what they think, say, and do impacts others. The result is often disastrous. The statistical studies Champak shared with me from Harvard Business Review showed how prevalent this unawareness is. Ninety-five percent of people think they are self-aware, but less than fifteen percent are.

 

I think we can see how pervasive this lack of emotional intelligence is by just observing the present polarized political climate where it seems too many people become trapped in an ideological tribe, left and right, and embrace ill-thought-out views with little awareness of how what they believe, feel and do has more to do with the make-up and root of their psychology than the facts at hand.

 

But what about those on the path of bhakti? To what extent are they naturally self-aware of their emotional make-up and how that affects their opinions and decisions?

 

Of course, as one’s consciousness becomes purified on any legitimate spiritual path, one becomes increasingly equipped with knowledge (jñāna) and detachment (vairāgya) and thus more aware of and less driven by their emotions. While these tools are helpful on the path of devotion, they are not devotion in itself. Bhakti is independent and thus there is not an absolute correlation between devotion and emotional intelligence or any other material quality. Therefore, one in any condition of life can be enthused and proceed with the path of devotion whatever their psychological make-up, while those with little or no devotion can be evolved in the mode of goodness and possess a high EQ.

 

This doesn’t discount, however, the value of emotional intelligence on the path of bhakti, both in terms of one’s own personal development and in terms of sharing the path of devotion with others. For example, if one is not self-aware of how one is driven by their nature and the cause of that nature, and that includes bhaktas, one will inadvertently be driven by those emotions. Then, as defenders of the faith, they may criticize others in the name of devotion while, in fact, they may just be slaves to their anger and envy caused by the experiences of their upbringing. It is therefore healthy to reflect on what we are doing and the emotions behind it, if for no other reason than to avoid unnecessary offenses driven by a lower self, for the more we are aware of our emotions the more control we have over them.

 

Developing our emotional intelligence seems also essential in sharing bhakti with others. How can we develop the ability to speak and relate in a way that others can hear, unless we are in tune with the way we project ourselves to others and understand the psychology and language of our audience? Often devotees, even relatively advanced on the path of bhakti, are not successful in communicating the path of devotion, at least not as much as they should be, because they lack sufficiently enough EQ to be aware of how they are projecting themselves to others in the name of devotion.

 

Can we develop emotional intelligence? Certainly. The process of devotion itself, although not focused on unraveling one’s psychology, by purifying one’s mind and elevating one gradually to the mode goodness naturally helps one to become more pensive and self-aware. I look back on my own early days on the path of bhakti and shudder at how much of what I was thinking and doing in the name of bhakti was informed by my psychological make-up and upbringing and not, as I thought, purely on the teachings of our tradition. I perceive and trust that after years of practicing bhakti my self-awareness is substantially better than it was, and I hope others who knew me see that also. Indeed, the path of devotion can certainly heighten our emotional intelligence.

 

I am writing this for myself and others because I realize that besides cultivating devotion, our effort to understand basic wisdom from good sources can surely be the impetus for profound change. And that is why when speaking to Champak, I was eager to hear for my own edification and to share with others how she developed her seminar Leading with Emotional Intelligence.

 

“From good thoughts come good actions, from good action comes good habits, from good habits come good character, and from good character comes the right destination.”—Unknown

 

 

 


[1] https://www.gpstrategies.com

 

[2] Champak’s course was based on Emotional Intelligence by Daniel Goleman. Discussing with her I found so much interesting information on the subject that is beyond the scope of the post. For example, self-awareness is demarcated into four divisions: self-awareness, social awareness, self-management, and social management with very perceptive markers of awareness in each category.

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2022 #34 – Monday Morning Metaphysics: Balarama-tattva Made Simple

August 22nd, 2022

It is my conviction that a sincere person will find the theology of Krishna very beautiful and thought provoking whether they are among the faithful or not. One example of this is balarama-tattva—the science of Balarama, who is the elder brother of Krishna. To understand Lord Balarama, however, you must first understand a fundamental principle of divinity: That God must be enjoying.

 

What is the sense of being the supreme controller if your powers do not result in a state of unbounded bliss? The Taittirīya Upaniṣad thus describes the Absolute Reality as raso vai saḥ—the “Supreme Reservoir of Pleasure”. Śrīla Prabhupāda illustrated this point with a charming story about a godbrother name Sadānanda das.

 

Sadānanda was a German intellectual who visited India first in the early 1930s. He visited many temples of India and saw the figures of the different “gods” of India, from the goddess Durgā riding a lion and holding her ten weapons including a mace and a triśūla, to Lord Śiva covered with snakes and ashes. When he saw Govinda (Krishna), however, with his three-fold bending form blowing His flute, he had an epiphany—Krishna must be God, because God must be enjoying! When Śrīla Prabhupāda narrated this story, he laughed and commented: “You never see Krishna in the spiritual world wearing a construction helmet and smoking a cigarette.”

 

But what is a reasonable conception of that enjoyment? I wrote about that previously in a piece called “Sri Krishna: A Reasonable Conception of Divinity”.

 

  1. All of us are seeking pleasure, and our greatest pleasure is found in pure, unmotivated love.
  2. If pure love is our guiding and universal principle, then why should it not be part of its source, the Ultimate Reality?
  3. As pure love entails a mutual exchange, then the one harmonious truth must have a type of discrimination within. There must be personality, beauty, and other qualities to enhance the flow of love.
  4. This flow of love is known as śakti or energy, and like all energy it is devoted to bringing pleasure to its source.
  5. Thus the Vaiṣṇava conception of reality is divine līlā, a drama that stages the perfect expression of love, and exchange of devotion between the source of all energies, Sri Krishna, and the supreme śakti, Sri Radha.

 

So, what does this all have to do with Lord Balarama?

 

As Krishna is fully immersed in the pleasure of rasa, a drama that brings love to its height, to enjoy that work, someone must execute all the affairs of existence and knowledge. That’s Balarama, Krishna’s first expansion who takes up that task eternally so that Krishna never has to leave His ecstatic pastimes in Vrindavan. Wouldn’t many of us, if we had the potency, manifest ourselves in a different form, a job expansion so to speak, so that we could stay at home and enjoy leisurely?

 

Balarama-tattva is therefore, in a sense, simple. Lord Balarama to serve Krishna manifests the spiritual and material worlds and all of God’s incarnations. He even manifests guru-tattva, the principle of knowledge that flows through pure souls who know and represent that Absolute Truth to those persons who repose faith in their knowledge and devotion. On the most intimate level of service, he also assists Krishna in His pastimes in all five rasas.[1]

 

In other words, Lord Balarama is the full manifestation of God, the servitor Godhead, who assists Krishna in all matters of existence, knowledge, and even relationship.

 

What should be clear here is what I am not trying to do—to prove this conception of the Absolute for there is no logical reason for God to be the way He is outside of His own will. What I have tried to do, however, is to demonstrate how delightful and reasonable this theology is, and specifically in the case of balarama-tattva—that God is enjoying and fully duplicates Himself, except for color and function,[2] for the pleasure of rasa without distraction!

 


[1]As Krishna’s older brother, he serves Krishna with affection in a protective mood like a parent (vātsalya-rasa). The older brother can also be a bosom friend (sakhya-rasa) or take the humble mood of servant (dāsya-rasa) of his brother. Balarama also serves in neutrality (śānta-rasa) as he manifests all of Krishna’s paraphernalia, even His bed, house, and shoes, and finally even in the conjugal rasa (śṛṅgāra-rasa) as Anaṅga-mañjarī, Sri Radha’s youngest sister.

 

[2] Lord Balarama is a full manifestation of Lord Krishna. The only difference is that Krishna is dark and Balarama is white, and that Balarama’s function is one of service.

 

The Significance of Śrīla Prabhupāda’s Last Written Words – Dhanurdhara Swami’s Vyāsa-pūjā Offering to Śrīla Prabhupāda

August 20th, 2022

The Significance of Śrīla Prabhupāda’s Last Written Words

 

Unfortunately, Śrīla Prabhupāda’s infirmity had visibly taken its toll on him. Day and night, he lay prone on his bed, and with whatever energy he could muster left in his body, he tried to rest comfortably and focus on the kirtan that softly played non-stop in his room. It is beyond comprehension that anyone in such a condition could gather the energy and mental acuity to continue dictating a profound commentary on such deep textual work as the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam. But he did. During hours through the day, he would listened attentively to his Sanskrit pandit read the various commentaries on a particular verse, assimilate them within his mind, and then with great effort bring his voice to a whisper into a dictaphone held to the side of his mouth, which is about as loud as he could struggle to be audible. Despite the condition in which these purports were written, I am convinced they are among his best. When going over those commentaries again recently, what particularly struck me was the significance of his last written words. They seemed to sum up in many ways the spiritual practice he was leaving the world:

 

Seeing the Lord before him, Brahma began to offer prayers with great humility, respect and attention. (Purport, Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam 10.13.64)

 

Spiritual practice means concentration or attention. On the path of bhakti, that practice is kirtan or prayers, which to be done feelingly must be chanted from a platform of humility and with respect (offenselessly).

 

Am I reading too much into this? Anyway, in classical hermeneutics, and in writing in general, what is said last is always significant. Śrīla Prabhupāda said that his books were dictated in his heart by Krishna. If that is a fact, Krishna certainly dictated a perfect legacy to his teachings. Can there be anything more significant in our practice than prayers or kirtan done with great humility, respect, and attention?

 

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2022 #33 – The Devotional and the Diabolical

August 15th, 2022

The Devotional and the Diabolical [1]

 

My conversations with Peter are always illuminating. Peter serves his church as an author, lecturer, and retreat facilitator. He was briefly passing through New York at the end of a lecture tour, and we met at Divya’s Kitchen for lunch. I don’t remember how we got there, but somehow our discussion became about the Devil. I was fascinated with Peter’s explanation of the word’s Latin derivative:

 

“The Greek term diabolos is the root for the English word devil. When we speak of ‘diabolical behavior,’ we typically mean actions that are pure evil. The Greek term is from a compound: dia means to scatter (it’s where the term diaspora comes from), and bolos (from the verb ballo) means to throw an object. Together they connote someone taking a vessel and throwing it against a wall so it shatters and scatters into a million pieces. That’s what the Devil does in Judeo-Christian tradition. He kills and destroys (John 10:10). That’s what the world does on a more subtle level. It takes our attention, energy, and affections and scatters them in a million different directions, so we are never quite present, put together, or focused.”

 

I found the concept fascinating, especially the last point: our challenges in spiritual life are devilish, breaking our focus and concentration away from God and selfishly scattering it in different directions. Peter continued by explaining that the term perfection, or wholeness, is derived from another word. Again I appreciated how he illustrated concepts by the root derivatives of a common word.

 

“On the contrary, shalom (peace, wholeness) can mean literally ‘nothing missing, nothing broken.’ It’s our state when we turn to God. He puts us back together, collects the broken pieces, making the broken beautiful like the stunning art of mending in Japanese lacquerware called kintsugi. It’s when skilled artisans take a broken vessel and meticulously restore it. Rather than hide the cracks and imperfections, they fill them with powdered gold.”

 

His explanation of how achieving completeness and peace is becoming whole by turning to God also struck a chord. Finally, he continued his line of thought by describing why an English word was chosen to describe the opening prayer for the Christian Mass:

 

“In the Mass, the opening prayer is called The Collect. The idea is that worship collects, gathers our heart and mind back so we can give God ‘one-pointed attention.’ ”

 

As we were discussing these topics, it was natural for me to think of verses in my own tradition that, not surprisingly, define the same concepts in a similar way. The first verse that came to mind was Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam 11.2.37[2] where the great sage Kavi describes that all fear and duality (bhayaṁ dvitīya) arises from turning away from God (īśād apetasya) and thus an intelligent person worships God fully with devotion (ataḥ budha ābhajet taṁ bhaktyā bhaktya). Interestingly, this verse is quoted by Śrī Jīva at the beginning of the Bhakti-sandarbha, where he defines the practice of devotion as reversing the cause of ignorance, which is turning away from God, by worshipping Him or turning toward Him.

 

The next verse that came to my mind that describes this dichotomy was Bhagavad-gītā 2.41.[3] Sri Krishna contrasts one fixed in devotional service, one single-pointed in his attention toward God (vyavasāyātmikā buddhir ekeha), with one who is not, whose mind is thus many branched (bahu-śākhā) or scattered.[4]

 

I very much enjoyed my time with Peter and hearing the perspective he shared from his tradition, which inspired me in my own. If we are here in this world, by definition our consciousness has been shattered and disconnected from our true self and we have falling prey to the “diabolical,” so to speak. Those who are intelligent must therefore seriously take up a devotional practice. By turning our attention to Krishna, we can then become once again peaceful, whole. Shalom!

 

 


[1] This is a reprint, originally published April 9, 2018. I think it is the second reprint in the last month or so. I prefer original posts, although old ones do seem fresh even to me. The problem is that in the last year I have substantially increased my chanting, and if I don’t finish an article by the weekend, or if something comes up, I don’t have the time to finish it. I am determined to keep on producing original posts, so I am seeing how to adjust my schedule.

[2] “Fear arises when a living entity misidentifies himself as the material body because of absorption in the external, illusory energy of the Lord. When the living entity thus turns away from the Supreme Lord, he also forgets his own constitutional position as a servant of the Lord. This bewildering, fearful condition is affected by the potency for illusion, called māyā. Therefore, an intelligent person should engage unflinchingly in the unalloyed devotional service of the Lord, under the guidance of a bona fide spiritual master, whom he should accept as his worshipable deity and as his very life and soul.”

[3] “Those who are on this path are resolute in purpose, and their aim is one. O beloved child of the Kurus, the intelligence of those who are irresolute is many-branched.”

[4] In his commentary to this verse, Srila Visvanatha Cakravarti offers the bhakti perspective to this concept by explaining that this one-pointed attention in spiritual life means to take the order of one’s spiritual master as one’s life and soul. Srila Prabhupada credits this specific point in Visvanatha’s commentary of 2.41 for inspiring him to fully take up his spiritual master’s order for him to preach Krishna consciousness in the Western countries.

Monday Morning Greetings 2022 #32 – On Reputation

August 8th, 2022

Should a Vaiṣṇava be concerned with their reputation? Raghunātha dāsa Gosvāmī, the lineage’s foremost authority on prema, doesn’t seem to think so:

 

“O Mind! How can the highest and purest prema ever touch my heart while desire for prestige dances there like a shameless dog-eating outcaste woman?” (Manaḥ-śikṣā, v. 7)

 

On the other hand, however, there are references that seem to say the opposite:

 

“Whenever there was anything that might touch or taint the character of the Lord, Dāmodara Paṇḍita would immediately point it out, not even considering the exalted position of the Lord.”[1] (Cc. Madhya-līlā 12.25, Purport)

 

So, is reputation something that a Vaiṣṇava shuns, or is it something they should be concerned with? Well, first one must be clear what reputation is.

 

Reputation is a society’s belief or opinion of one’s character, competence, and productivity. A good reputation is therefore arguably one’s most valuable commodity because the widespread belief of one’s good qualities invokes trust, which is an essential element in attaining one’s goals.

 

It is therefore not wrong for a spiritual person to be concerned with their reputation to the extent that it facilitates the execution of their dharma or responsibilities, whether those responsibilities are within their service, business, management or educational occupation, or even related to the development of a meaningful relationship within their ashram as a student, family member, or renunciate. However, to seek reputation simply to enhance prestige ultimately to enjoy and control the world is shunned, for it simply increases the ego and mires one in the bodily concept of life.

 

Reputation is especially important for one in authority, especially as a teacher or guide. Faith is the precursor of knowledge. A marred reputation by careless behavior or failure to sufficiently revise one’s own field of study or competence impedes trust in one and therefore one’s ability to educate or enlighten others by one’s precept and example.

 

For these reasons, even if we sincerely do not seek prestige, our reputation is still important. We should note, however, that it is not to be obtained cheaply, but it is something generally earned after years of hard work developing competency, living up to one’s principles, and proving one’s trust in relationships.

 

A special challenge, therefore, is to not fall prey to the allure of artificially increasing one’s reputation. It is just too easy today to game the reputation system through the internet to claim undeserved moral virtue by joining or leading the bandwagon online against something or someone without doing the hard work of being genuinely productive and caring. Certainly, we should be compassionate and fight for justice, but if our motive is not pure and we haven’t unrooted the “evil” in ourselves, which seems too often the case, such reputation will mostly be among people like ourself and not real or lasting.

 

So, should a Vaiṣṇava care about his reputation? The simple answer: a Vaiṣṇava should never seek respect and should offer all respect to others, but should also, as a representative of guru and Krishna, certainly be concerned with being respectable.

 

And those are my thoughts “On Reputation”.

 

 


[1] Although Dāmodara Paṇḍita’s criticism of his guru was considered impudent, his concern was valid.

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2022 #31 – Is Surrender a Bad Word?

August 1st, 2022

Is Surrender a Bad Word? [1]

 

When I was in my teens a popular and favorite situation comedy on television was called The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis. It was about typical young men in the ’50s. The character that amused us the most was Dobie’s best friend, a beatnik, Maynard G. Krebs. Beatniks, like their descendants the hippies, had the reputation of never working. During the show, whenever Maynard was asked if he would like to work, he would shriek nervously, “Work!” We loved it. It was as if work was a bad word.

 

I find almost the same reaction today among some devotees when they hear the word surrender, even though surrender is the foundation of bhakti. Ouch! Why do I hear some of my readers react that way when I say that surrender is the foundation of bhakti? Is surrender a bad word?

 

How can that be? “Surrender” is unquestionably the first thing Arjuna says to Krishna after accepting Him as his guru: “I am a soul surrendered unto you. Please instruct me.”

 

And later, when Krishna describes the responsibly of a disciple, He says “praṇipātena”—that before receiving knowledge, the student must offer prostrated obeisances, which takes the “I surrender” mudrā of hands raised up in the air to the next level, falling flat at someone’s feet.

 

When discussing this point about surrender in my Nectar of Devotion seminar, Sat Hari—one of the students, and a scholar in his own right—shared an insight from one of his teachers on the difficulty for some people with the word surrender. “When you translate words from Sanskrit to English,” he said, “the translated word is pregnant with history [of its usage].”

 

The English word surrender means to capitulate or submit, and its usage in English is almost exclusively to an enemy or opponent.

 

Isn’t there a better word in English for prapatti or śaraṇāgati than surrender? Why use a word with such negative connotations—“to enemy or opponent”?

 

The core meaning of surrender is derived from the Middle English word render, which means “to return or give back,” and the prefix sous, which mean “under,” literally to place oneself under someone else. “To an enemy or opponent” is the implied meaning in English, due to the pre-Renaissance culture in which the meaning of surrender developed. But capitulation or submission does not have to be to an enemy. It can also be done out of great love.

 

In other words, both prapatti and surrender have the exact same meaning. They both describe the act of giving oneself over or to or “under” the control of another party. However, depending on the culture in which that word is used and one’s personal experience with authority in life, surrender will conjure up one of two images or meanings:

 

One hears “surrender” and sees an image of a person waving a white flag and then marching in the hot sun with bayonet in back and hands raised in air. To such a person, surrender means exploitation and abuse.

 

Another hears “surrender” and imagines a child in the arms of his or her loving mother, completely “under” her care. To such a person, surrender means shelter and love.

 

Regardless of how you are conditioned to view the word, the more important consideration for a devotee is whether he or she can accept and embrace the base meaning of surrender, “giving control over oneself to another party,” for without the mood of “I am yours,” one cannot enter the door of bhakti. Isn’t the mood of giving oneself to another by supplicating one’s will to their desires the basis of any relationship with a worthy object of love, especially with one’s guide or protector?

 

There are a few other images that should be clarified before the sense of weakness can be lifted from the word. Surrender—“giving control over oneself to another party”—does not mean that one’s initiative is squelched or that one is micromanaged, provided the person one surrenders to is worthy. One is fully empowered according to one’s ability but always in the mood of dependence and humility.

 

I heard a beautiful analogy that describes the subtlety of balancing full initiative and full dependence: In an Indian extended family, when the father retires, his sons will be given the business and full initiative to run it. The father, however, will come every day and sit there. Although he doesn’t interfere and the sons have full initiative, they feel his presence, shelter, and authority. In a similar way, a mature and educated disciple is given full initiative to practice spiritual life and render service according to his full realization but always with an eye toward his spiritual guardians and their authority.

 

“But what if the guru is not qualified and I am misled or exploited?” The subtleties of dealing with that are another story and another paper, but we can’t change the philosophy about what surrender means on the basis that we have entered into the wrong relationship. Before judging a guru in such a way, we had better be sure that the problem is not mostly with us, the disciple. And it goes without saying that there must be a period of examination between the guru and disciple before one makes such a heavy commitment as surrender.

 

That’s it. Surrender is not a bad word, though the reality of our absolute dependence on God is a challenging one. False ego means we want power to control and enjoy, and accepting authority takes that power from our hands. Naturally we resist it and the words that represent it, but surrender is not a bad word; it is the gateway to the world of bhakti.

 


[1] This Monday Morning Greetings was original published on February 29, 2016.