Waves of Devotion

Are you OK?

Last Monday Morning Greetings I discussed that my life was at a crossroads. Some people inquired if I could share what that was. Nothing serious. As I explained in a previous post, I am in the unique situation—or perhaps it’s just the time of life—where I have no externally imposed responsibilities, and I can freely choose how I want to serve Krishna. As I was trying to figure it out, a friend visited and recommended that I just talk to God. I did. I will be working on a new book and will continue to develop more the sādhu side of my life—live simply and chant more.

Chanting and Writing

A scholar was burdened with a deep philosophical question. He decided to ask Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta, the great Vaiṣṇava scholar and saint, so he made an appointment to see him. When he arrived, however, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta was busy, so the great saint asked him if he would mind polishing the deity paraphernalia while he waited. When he returned as scheduled, the saint told him that something extremely important came up and if he could please come the next day. Although he had to wait again, when he finished polishing the brass, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta graciously welcomed his inquiry. To the saint’s surprise the scholar sat their silently, but soon revealed why: “I had this very deep question that had been bothering me for some time, but after finishing polishing the brass today the answer suddenly came!” In the same way, although I am taking time from my morning writing schedule to walk around Govardhan chanting the holy name, I am amazed that the concepts I have been struggling to properly conceptualize and express suddenly become clear. Some people ask how I come up with a fresh realization every week to write about an express that realization clearly. One answer: chanting! The mercy of the holy name is very much a part of my writing process.

The Pain of Prema

I have a small group that I meet once a week where I am lecturing on the second chapter of the Madhya-līlā where Śrī Caitanya’s ecstasies are described in terms the mood of Śrī Radha as a disappointed lover, which is arguably the most painful and consuming consciousness. As I am teaching this section, others and I were struggling to reconcile the sorrowful descriptions of Śrī Radha’s pain with its descriptions of simultaneously being the height of Her ecstasy. While walking and chanting an analogy came to mind to reconcile this: Sometimes a drama communicates a tragedy that the audience feels deeply but is simultaneously the cause of their enjoying that drama. In the same way, the apparent feelings of pain Śrī Radha experiences in the drama of krishna-līlā is simultaneously the cause of Her ecstasy, as it heightens Her love of Krishna, which is the highest form of ecstasy.

The Agony and the Ecstasy of Japa

I had a personal realization while chanting about the idea I was musing on yesterday in terms of reconciling the concepts of agony and ecstasy in devotional service. The japa was good today. I went deeper and hit the wall of surrender—that I couldn’t go much deeper until I sincerely prayed for unconditional devotion—to ask Śrī Krishna to do whatever it takes to attain His lotus feet. I clearly saw the anchors of attachment and felt the pain of giving them up, but simultaneously that endeavor was couched in a depth of devotion that was very sweet.

Two Stories, Same Story

I am also teaching the Bṛhad-bhāgavatāmṛta, which is a summary of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam as it’s a response to Mahārāja Parīkṣit’s mother’s request to quickly share its essence after he had just finished hearing the complete Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam on the last day of his life. Another quandary arose: How exactly is the Bṛhad-bhāgavatāmṛta a summary of the Śrīmad–Bhāgavatam when it’s a completely different story? The answer again came while chanting: The goal of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam is to understand the pastimes of Śrī Krishna in the Tenth Canto, especially His loving dealings with the gopīs as the highest manifestation of devotional service, and not something mundane or imaginary. One way the book accomplishes that is to present stories of pure devotional service in progressively greater and greater forms of intimacy. When we see the same concept but in different forms, it helps us understand that concept more deeply so that we can recognize it when applied in different circumstances. In this case, seeing the concept of pure devotional service in a variety of devotees with different relationships with Krishna gives us a depth of understanding to recognize such selfless devotion even in the more challenging form of the intense loving romantic exchanges of Śrī Radha and Śrī Krishna. In the Bṛhad-bhāgavatāmṛta, although the story is very much different, the search of Śrī Narada to find the topmost recipient of Krishna’s mercy basically follows the same progression of devotees as the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam does in terms of their level of intimacy with Krishna and with the same expressed purpose, to help us see the love of Krishna and the gopīs as the height of selfless devotion, which is finally revealed at the end of Śrī Narada’s search.

Pride and Parikrama

As I was walking today, for a second a thought of pernicious pride entered my mind for a second, thinking how great what I was doing was, walking every day around the hill, which is only a pleasant, brisk morning stroll that many people do, but I quickly caught myself and had an antidote for such thoughts. Beg for the mercy of the holy name. How can a beggar be proud?

So that’s my musings here in Govardhan this week. See you again next morning!

A friend visited. I revealed my mind in confidence. I am at a bit of a crossroads in my spiritual journey and seeking direction on which way to move my life forward. I liked his advice:

“Just talk to God. Ask Him for clarity on what you should do. Śrī Girirāja is a person, and you are here under His shelter. He can hear and respond to you. Don’t you believe that? Isn’t that our philosophy? Don’t we talk and reveal our minds to those whom we love and respect? Doesn’t that also help us to develop that relationship?”

I approached Śrī Girirāja. I fell at His feet. I verbalized my quandary and asked for help. I began my walk. I noticed that my chanting gradually became conversational. I listened to my heart. What is God telling me? Some clarity came. Our relationship deepened. So simple. Just talk to God.

After my walk a realization came: I should talk to God more, especially during my mantra japa.

In the Yoga-sūtras, when Patañjali recommends that to control the mind we should surrender to God (īśvara), he also recommends how to surrender. We should focus on repeating a mantra (tad japas) and dwell on the meaning (artha bhavanam). In other words, the mantra is not just names of God to be repeated with attention, it is also an address to God, and one should be very much cognizant of its meaning: “O Lord, O energy of the Lord, please engage me in your service.” In other words, don’t just parrot Sanskrit words, but also address God, at least in our mind, and in the language we understand.

The Hare Krishna mantra is also unique. As far I know, it is the only mantra where every word is declined in the vocative. Krishna is not just the name “Krishna”, but it means, “O Krishna!”  “Hare” means, “O energy of the Lord, O Radha!” The vocative case means we are addressing someone declaratively. Simply put, the Hare Krishna mantra is talking to God.

In the biography of Śrīla Bhaktivinoda, the great 19^th century ācārya in our lineage, it is described that sometimes his next-door neighbor would hear him chanting in the morning, and it sounded to her as if he was talking to God, which is certainly one way to chant the mantra.

One more thought: Freedom of Speech and Talking to God

Freedom of speech is the foundation of a properly functioning society. One of the many reasons why is because without the freedom to verbalize one’s thoughts and the freedom to allow others to challenge one’s ideas, one can never find out how either valid or stupid one’s thoughts are. What does this have to do with talking to God? In verbalizing one’s thoughts before God, one can more readily judge the sincerity of one’s heart and challenge one’s thoughts.

One of the sixty-four qualities of Krishna is that He speaks all languages. I thus talk to God in English. Of course, God understands me, so besides chanting verses in Bengali and Sanskrit, we can, and it is important to, talk to God in our mother tongue.

I am continuing my daily jaunts. One sādhu once told me that as a devotee walks around the Hill, Girirāja follows that devotee around the hill and asks them what they want. I respond, “Hare Krishna,” saying the mantra in Sanskrit but thinking, “O Lord, O energy of the Lord, how should I serve you!”

Today I spoke to God, and He told me what to do. It’s a challenge. Tomorrow I will talk to Him and ask for the mercy to have the strength to follow His will.

Today, excellent advice: Talk to God!

I don’t have a job or a family and just a few disciples to guide. No management responsibilities either. I only travel one or two places to teach. I guess that’s called the life of sannyāsī, maybe a little bābājī in there. I am also blessed with good health and don’t need much sleep. That’s how my destiny has unfolded. What, then, do I do all day? Good question. I chant a lot, do some writing, occasionally entertain or counsel a guest, and do some reading. Still, I have time on my hands and must be vigilant to not waste it. Everyone one has a personal challenge; That’s mine.

I arrived a few minutes early at the gate of Brij Vasundhara (the Govardhan “resort”) on the parikramā path and sat there waiting for my parikramā partner to come when those above thoughts flooded my mind. My train of thought continued: “Ruci, real taste in devotion, comes after niṣṭhā, being always absorbed or fixed in devotion. That’s why this daily jaunt around Govardhan is important for me. It keeps my schedule tight to ensure I don’t fall prey to the distraction or idleness that compromises my fixedness and taste for bhakti. That touches on a quandary: Without being fixed in devotional service, there is no taste in Krishna consciousness, but without that taste you can’t remain fixed. Chanting under the shade of Śrī Girirāja, however, seems to help both. It sparks devotion and also gives a strong impetus to remain fixed. My original plan was to circumambulate the hill just once at the beginning of my stay to help me enter the spirit of the holy dhāma. Now I fear stopping.”

Anyway, what you just heard was my mind in a nanosecond while waiting for my parikramā partner to come. It also gives you an insight as to how my weekly Greetings are born. A fleeting thought comes, and I run with it, never knowing if and when another realization to write about will come. This week’s post: Why niṣṭhā leads to ruci.

When I came to Vrindavan, we were completely dependent on the local well water for drinking. There was no other choice. The problem was that it was salty. Great effort had to be made to find what the locals called “sweet water”, even if we had to travel some distance to find it. Still even the best water was not completely sweet, causing a lot of digestive problems. What is sweet water? It is water that’s just water, not mixed with anything else. Similarly, ruci, taste in bhakti, is when bhakti is just devotion not mixed with anything else. That’s specifically why the stage of ruci comes after the stage of niṣṭhā, being fixed in devotion without any break or distraction.

Just as a piece of paper will not burn immediately by intensifying the sun’s rays on it through a magnifying glass, but only when it is steadily focused for some time, similarly devotion will only alight in our heart if we can stay focused on the object of our devotion steadily for some time. Therefore, to get taste in devotion we must remain attentive and fixed. And what is the practice to do that? Four things: Concentration, without interruption, over a prolonged period, and in the right mood. In other words, niṣṭhā, prolonged fixedness or attentiveness, naturally leads to real taste, or ruci.

What about people who, unlike me, have many material responsibilities? How can they be fixed and gain taste in bhakti? Obviously, there are challenges, but doing our duties properly does not compromise our steadiness in bhakti because it is also Krishna’s will that we responsibly maintain our family and properly raise our children. Therefore, they do not break our devotion and do not hamper the development of our taste as long as we leave in our day a time and place for Krishna and remained fixed in our devotional practices. If done sincerely, they can also give us, Krishna willing, the realization and inspiration to change our life to make it more conducive to the practice of bhakti or inspire Krishna to do so.

Basically, my service and challenge seem to be just to live as a simple sadhu. I am not qualified. I can thus only pray:

“My Lord, I know that young girls have natural affection for young boys, and that young boys have natural affection for young girls. I am praying at Your lotus feet that my mind may become attracted unto You in the same spontaneous way.” (From Padma Purāṇa referenced in The Nectar of Devotion, Chapter 9)

Of course they can! I have studied the moral argument for the existence of God from the writings of the best Christian apologists. While they make very compelling arguments that it’s very difficult to validate the existence of objective moral values[1] without accepting the existence of God,[2] they make it clear that you don’t need to believe in God to have moral values—to love your children rather than abuse them or to be honest and not steal, for example. So, what is this post about?

Last week I was trying to complete a two-part series on the quotations of Saint Augustine from a Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇava perspective. What I realized was that besides Saint Augustine’s most famous quote, “Humility! Humility! Humility!”, which I highlighted in the first article, he had several other good quotes about humility that might make an interesting new post if I commented on them from a Gauḍīya perspective. I began with this insightful one: “Humility is the foundation of all other virtues hence, in the souls in which this virtue does not exist there cannot be any other virtue except mere appearance.” I started my commentary on this verse by referencing a somewhat similar statement from the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam (5.18.12) where it states that if one is not a devotee of the Lord, they have no good qualities because one’s qualities are born of the mind and in service to the material energy.[3] According to my philosophical understanding, that declarative statement—that one who is not a devotee of the Lord has no good qualities—seemed a bit spurious, so I got stuck on trying to reconcile my understanding with what I just read in the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, which I accept as authoritative. I therefore never finished last week’s post. I decided this week to have a go at it again and make a separate post trying to reconcile what I saw as a challenging point. I struggled again, but was able to break down my thoughts on the matter into three main arguments:

1. It is a challenge to hold true to any conviction, even one affirming objective moral values, if your over-all world view doesn’t support it.

Generally, atheism comes with an endorsement of naturalism—that ultimate reality exists in matter and the world is nothing but “blind omnipotent matter rolling on.”[4] It seems a stretch to justify the idea that personal choices are “good” or “bad” when what we “really” are is just clusters of molecules that come together by chance for a few years in the void.[5] It is thus not hard to imagine that when such a naturalistic philosophy becomes pervasive in society it will eventually have an effect on society in a Dostoevskian “if there is no god, all is permitted”[6] Are we not seeing that today as our worldview becomes increasingly Godless—that almost anything goes, and thus immorality and lawlessness are rampant?[7]

2. Without God consciousness, there are no good qualities.

To try to understand the import of this statement from Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam 5.18.12, let me go back to my original post on humility where I described that from a theistic perspective the seed of humility and the emblem of character is the willingness to submit to a truth higher than one’s own whims, which manifest fully in unalloyed devotion to God. I think what the verse is saying, therefore, is that to the extent one does not have such full surrender to God, then the basis of one’s good qualities will be the mind that is grounded in the false ego, the desire for superiority and control. As a result, even the good qualities of such a person are bound to be co-opted in some way to exert one’s superiority, for example that I am more honest and just than others, and thus cease to be purely good qualities, but rather tools of the ego. Saint Augustine describes this phenomenon beautifully: “Pride will wrest from our hand any good deed we do while we are in the very act of taking pleasure in it. It is true that other defects have to be feared in our sins, but pride is to be feared in our very acts of virtue; otherwise, those praiseworthy acts will be lost through the desire of praise itself.”[8] I think that is what it means in verse 5.12.18 when it says that “one who is not a devotee”, which I have tried to show, means not being fully humble, “has no good qualities.”

3. This philosophy is affirmed by the character of a true devotee.

It’s been the second week of trying to understand and express this point. It hasn’t been easy. Thank Krishna that at 5:00 in the morning every day I can rest my mind as I walk half-way around Govardhan chanting Hare Krishna and praying for Śrī Giriraja’s mercy. Today, just when I was about to finish the parikrama on the lush forest path north of Jatipur, a cleanly-dressed young man in simple pants, bead bag in hand, was walking the opposite way. When he crossed my path, he stopped, and paid his obeisances. I don’t know why, but he sat on his knees for a few seconds looking up to me with hands folded in reverence as his eyes sparkled with devotion. I was taken aback by the joy emanating from his being born of his full acquiescent to God, whom he seemed to see in everyone and somehow now in me, a “respected” sannyāsī. He was a beautiful young Brijbasi named Giridhari Rupa, a local schoolteacher, who embodied the humility and state of pure goodness that I am convinced can only be found in the heart of an unalloyed devotee of God. Can an atheist be moral? Perhaps, but not like this!

[1] This is how William Lane Craig defines objective moral values: “Objective means ‘independent of what people think or perceive’. By contrast, ‘subjective’ means ‘not objective’. Or ‘dependent on what humans think or perceive’. So, for moral values and duties to be objective, what is good or evil doesn’t depend on the opinions of human beings.”

[2] For those who are philosophically inclined, here is an outline of the moral argument for the existence of God by William Lane Craig, arguably one the world’s most prominent theistic apologists: https://www.reasonablefaith.org/podcasts/defenders-podcast-series-1/s1-moral-argument/moral-argument-part-1

[3] https://vedabase.io/en/library/sb/5/18/12/

[4] The famous atheist philosopher Bertrand Russel’s description of reality according to his naturalistic worldview.

[5] Here is a quote by Steven Pinker, renowned Harvard cognitive psychologist and intellectual atheist on why in a naturalist viewpoint there are no objective moral values: “The scientific outlook has taught us that some parts of our subjective experience are products of our biological makeup and have no objective counterpart in the world. The qualitative difference between red and green, the tastiness of fruit and foulness of carrion, the scariness of heights and prettiness of flowers are design features of our common nervous system, and if our species had evolved in a different ecosystem or if we were missing a few genes, our reactions could go the other way. Now, if the distinction between right and wrong is also a product of brain wiring, why should we believe it is any more real than the distinction between red and green? And if it is just a collective hallucination, how could we argue that evils like genocide and slavery are wrong for everyone, rather than just distasteful to us?”

[6] This was the famous affirmation made by the character Ivan Karamázov in the novel The Brothers Karamázov, by Fiódor Dostoiévski, in the 19th century.

[7] I have not researched or done a statistical study to affirm this. It is my observation, which seems self-evident to me. That also doesn’t mean that in the name of religion horrible things haven’t been done, but that is another discussion.

[8] There are too many good quotes from Saint Augustine on this subject to not share one more: “If humility does not proceed and accompany and follow every good work we do, if it is not before us to focus on, it is not beside us to lean upon, if it is not behind us to fence us in, pride will wrench from our hand any good deed we at the moment we do it.”

How to Feel Bad About Yourself [1]

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’.” I’m a hopeless optimist. We laughed, but it is no joke. A dose of pessimism, even pain in the heart, is essential for bhakti. I feel that more and more. Comes with age? Could I be advancing in spiritual life? Who knows? But my wall of unhinged optimism is cracking, and it’s sometimes heavy.

The pain of purification

One friend described being in a holy place like putting a mirror to your false ego. Devotion is like that. It 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. For a minute I see myself. How many lifetimes have I been parading as Pauṇḍraka?[2] Can I bear the truth of self-realization?

The pain of understanding God

To really believe in an Absolute Truth sets a standard for our life. How demanding it is to conform one’s living to something higher than one’s whims and attachments. I am reading that standard of truth. It is called the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam. I am informed page after page, “You are not up to the mark. Change!” Can I bear the truth of self-realization?

The pain of realization

I not only understand a truth; I see a truth — a realization. That realization is so clear. I kick myself. How did I miss it? I look back. How foolish to have lived in ignorance of such a simple truth. I should have known. And such realizations keep coming again and again. I am pained to have lived in foolishness, and it follows that I must be living in folly now. Can I bear the truth of self-realization?

The pain of regret

Bhakti begins with regretting a life lived egocentrically separate from God. That regret is called tapa, or remorse. It is the first step in spiritual commitment. Tapa also means heat. Remorse is heat because admission of fault painfully burns the lurking sense of ego that engines material life. No, I am not wrong! It is not my fault! It wasn’t a mistake! Am I man enough to resist such rationalization? Admit it; regret it. Let that acknowledgment burn our charade. Can I bear the truth of self-realization?

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 fears vulnerability and humility. 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 self-realization?

The joy of pain

Crushing thoughts awaken humility, which is the foundation of devotional yearning and thus the greatest joy. That pain, however, has nothing to do with one’s psychology. It is the soul aching for connection to God and realizing our failure. It is the birth of devotion and joy, but can I bear the price of self-realization?

[1] This Monday Morning Greeting was originally published on June 3, 2019.

[2] 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.