All You Need Is Love
I think we can basically look at relationships in three ways:
When you get more than you deserve, it’s called love. When you get exactly what you deserve, it’s called business. When you get less than you deserve, it’s called exploitation.
When sincere people come to a spiritual movement, they give their lives. Of course, in one sense, what they receive is priceless, even if they are not paid or given anything material in return. But to feel that kind of gratitude without any concrete reciprocation, one must be very evolved. I therefore think that institutions and spiritual leaders should go out of their way to give sincere people more than they expect.
This matters especially because sincere people who surrender themselves are vulnerable. They may continue serving for years, even while their physical and emotional needs are neglected in the name of service.
Here is a small example of me trying to put this realization into practice. I invited a devotee to make a presentation at my retreat. We paid for his ticket and promised him a certain honorarium. He lives as a sādhu and doesn’t have much, and I sensed that he felt neglected after years of selfless surrender. Everyone appreciated his contribution, so I told my assistant to give him more than we had promised.
It may seem like a small thing. But in a spiritual movement where people give their lives and often receive very little remuneration or support in return, I think it is important to find ways to show kindness.
Of course, in bhakti, one should never act with a motive. That doesn’t change the fact that the Śrī Upadeśāmṛta lists six loving exchanges that nourish our heart in devotion. So shouldn’t we look for ways to give to others even beyond what they expect—whether it is our teachings, a gift, some prasādam, or simply our time?
I remember living in Vṛndāvana twenty-five years ago, when many of my friends were also spending more time there. We were always exchanging thoughtful spiritual gifts, and it created such deep bonds of affection among us. If we don’t make such efforts in our community, I don’t think peoples’ hearts will feel nourished by love.
So here is a simple, sentimental request to my readers: find someone and show your affection with an unexpected gift.
All you need is love!
I can’t believe this dry, unsentimental, jñānī just said that.
Begging for the Holy Name
Everyone has their nature. In spiritual life, I thrive on regulation. I am also, by nature, a terrible traveler. Even after a minor change of scenery, it takes me a long time to get back into gear.
I have been in Vraja for over a week now, but I still feel the effects of travel, and it’s not just jet lag. I am still not happy with my sādhana. It’s 2 a.m. Then a thought comes: I have just read something where it says that we should beg for the Holy Name. Śrī Girirāja is only fifty meters from my door. Why not beg Girirāja for the Holy Name?
I set out along His inner path. I try to imbibe that mood in my chanting. I beg for the Holy Name.
Halfway around, on the Govinda Kund side, the Name becomes clear in my consciousness, or at least clearer, and a realization comes:
Isn’t taste in chanting simply hearing the Name clearly and effortlessly? Isn’t that our philosophy?
What is the second stage of chanting? Nāmābhāsa. Ābhāsa means a dim reflection. It is compared to the sun at dawn — we catch a glimpse of the sun, but it has not yet fully risen.
Nāmābhāsa is a glimpse of the Holy Name in the consciousness. It is not yet full awareness of the Name, but it is the dawning of the pure Name. The metaphor makes clear that as one advances in chanting, the Name shines ever more brightly in one’s consciousness and the taste for chanting blossoms.
But why beg for it?
Three coverings filter our perception of the Name. In the mind, the covering is inattention. In the intelligence, it is misconception. In the ego, it is our aversion to surrender. While these sheaths of resistance remain, it is not possible by our own power to fully perceive the Name through their covering. But by begging for the Holy Name, that sincerity moves the Name to take the initiative and come to us beyond the foggy mind.
So when the Name appears clearly in one’s consciousness, or even when we experience only its dim reflection, we should understand that the clear manifestation of the Holy Name, and consequent taste that comes by feeling our relationship with the Holy Name, is purely the mercy of God.
We must therefore beg for the Holy Name!