Waves of Devotion

Dhanurdhara Swami 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.

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Dhanurdhara Swami July 25th, 2022

I just love to stroll among majestic old buildings, so an old acquaintance and my host for the afternoon, Dr. Eben Graves, the assistant director of the Yale School of Sacred Music,[1] took me to see the campus when I came last Sunday afternoon to visit him.

Of special interest was the Beinecke Library,[2] which houses one the largest collection of rare books and manuscripts in the world. The building is spectacular. When you walk inside your attention is immediately caught by a glass enclosed 10,000 square-foot six story sanctum in the center that houses the collection of one million books. For security reasons, the edifice is cleverly surrounded by a moatlike cavern extended to the floors below, but as you circumambulate this veritable book cathedral you still get a perfect audience of the neatly shelved ancient texts rising several stories above. As you continue around this stately edifice, there are several lounge areas with a smattering of display cases of some of the library’s special treasures, including one with a rare Gutenberg Bible[3] and another with an original copy of the Declaration of Independence.

Monday Morning Greetings is grounded in my own realizations—how I see the world based on the perspective of the sacred texts I study. I find that such realizations usually come spontaneously, but on rare occasions when they don’t, I have developed the habit of searching for one. As it was already time to begin my next post and I didn’t have a topic yet, my pleasant Sunday stroll therefore took on a mission. Would I find among the ancient scrolls and the majestic buildings my treasure of weekly truth? Although a few interesting thoughts arose during my tour, I just couldn’t find a topic that I was inspired enough to write about. Therefore, when I left the campus, I scrapped the idea of finding my treasure there. Later in the day, however, some inspiration unexpectedly came.

For some reason, the book God and Man at Yale by William F. Buckley, one of their famous alumni, a prominent media figure and intellectual of my youth,[4] came to mind. In his 1951 best seller he criticized the university for trying to break down the students’ religious beliefs by their hostility to religion and their promotion of collectivist and secular ideals. Although I don’t know enough to attest to the validity of his accusations and I don’t support many of his personal views, thinking about the book’s general theme caused me to recall a realization I was trying to formalize during my walk, which only became clear then. While appreciating the immense beauty and grandeur of these facilities, I couldn’t help but feel sad that these institutions seem to be moving from the original purpose of a university, to create the one place in society that is meant to preserve all aspects of a society’s culture and to train and promote people of learning and character who could best serve those ideals.

As I began to dwell further on this realization, I started to remember other related thoughts and feelings that I was trying to conceptualize during my campus walk. I also recalled, for no better word, a type of envy. I also represent a mission trying to impact society, but the resources of that mission seem paltry in comparison to Yale, which for the most part is dedicated to ideals directly in opposition to mine. It gave me a sinking feeling. How would our mission ever succeed? I felt hopeless, but then I remembered Śrīla Prabhupāda’s arrival in America.

When Śrīla Prabhupāda stepped off the Jaladuta to the shore of Boston, the full brunt of material civilization stood directly before him to the west to a degree he probably could have never imagined. He initially reflected on the utter impossibility of succeeding in his mission to spiritualize the West by his own power[5] but got renewed vigor, despite the odds against him, by dwelling on the books he carried with him in a metal trunk that he would distribute there. He then quoted a series of verses from those books that described the transforming power of bhakti.[6] He had Krishna and His message and continued forward with faith and valor. As described in the Bhagavad-gītā, the advantage was his!

“Wherever there is Kṛṣṇa, 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.” (Bg. 18.78)

So, I walked about one of most powerful educational institutions in the world, one focused increasingly on materialistic goals. I was initially humbled by its grandeur, but then became more inspired by the power of the message of the Bhagavat. And that is the story of Krishna and Man at Yale.[7]

[1] https://ism.yale.edu

[2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beinecke_Rare_Book_%26_Manuscript_Library

[3] To give one an idea how valuable this collection must be, one of the few Guttenberg Bibles still existing is estimated to cost over thirty million dollars.

[4] William F. Buckley hosted a popular public affairs show in the late sixties called Firing Line where he would interview and challenge with his acerbic wit and intellect the leading intellectuals of the day. Here is an excerpt from when he hosted Allen Ginsberg, who chanted the Hare Krishna Mantra for him: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CS8A5IME7aU

[5] https://vedabase.io/en/library/spl/1/markine-bhagavata-dharma/

[6] Bhag. 1.17-24

[7] Obviously, the title is a parody on God and Man at Yale.

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Dhanurdhara Swami July 18th, 2022

Faith means our goal. It’s where we feel our sublimity rests. I have some faith. Too often, however, I forget the memorable experiences of devotion driving that faith forward. The strength of my practice with the aim of bhāva then wanes. Today, I remember my faith. With renewed vigor I intensify my effort to attain that goal. I start within, but I wallow in complacency. What to do? Can I turn on a switch to at once light my heart with love and devotion? Yes! But first I must walk through the door—the entrance—to true bhakti. I must fully surrender. No! Not that dirty word again!

Bad word? To surrender is to take full refuge of a worthy object of love and truth and to serve that fully as one’s purpose. What can be a more beautiful! It is the child who takes full shelter in the mother’s arms. It is the person of character who fearlessly takes full refuge of the highest principles, no matter what the consequences. And most important, it is the devotee who makes himself fully available for the service of God, who, by the power of his own devotion, has the strength to resist the selfish demands of ego.

The story of an ancient wedding party comes to mind. The party left at night by boat to reach their destination eight hours down the shore. When they awoke in the morning, they were shocked to find themselves in the same place as where they began. When they berated the boatman, he fiercely defended himself. “You must be mistaken,” he argued, “I rowed all night!” The argument continued until one of the passengers looked over the side of the boat. The foolish boatman had forgotten to lift the anchor!

Are my efforts also for naught? Am I hopelessly impeded in my quest for the divine by my failure to fully surrender and to pull up the anchor of my anarthas—those petty attachments that have no (an) value (artha) to my advancement in devotional service? In my pursuit of prema has Krishna still not left me enough joys in life, even attachments, to keep my mind peaceful? So, then what is the difficulty? Enjoy life and just give this one life to Krishna!

It is, however, easier said than done. Although any honest soul can surrender at once by committing themself to what they know deep in their heart is the will of God, surrender is ultimately a qualification of heart. One must want to do it. The simple act of renouncing selfishness and giving oneself to Krishna thus often seem insurmountable, and we are left hopelessly begging for mercy.

Remembering the goal today and therefore hankering to walk through the door of “surrender”, but seeing my own weakness of heart, I felt despondent. But hope suddenly arose. Does not Krishna come when His devotees are in distress? Then let my distress be the voice of my chanting as I call on His name. Will not then Śrī Caitanya, the deliverer of the fallen, hear my angst and help me flip the switch to enter the path of prema?

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Dhanurdhara Swami July 11th, 2022

Heart Massage[1]

May 13, 2019

I am often asked how I come up with topics to write about every week. It seems a bit mystical: I just think about the first realization that has come to mind since I began the last Greeting, and then I begin to write. I often get stuck on a paragraph, or even a sentence, and feel hopeless about how to proceed. It’s hard to envision a completed piece. I move forward, however, in the mood of service, confident that the inspiration will come, for Krishna is in everyone’s heart and from Him comes remembrance and knowledge.[2] Inevitably it does. Writing is such a faith builder, because it works every time. I start, can’t imagine how something of worth will come, but then watch the process unfold. By the time I am finished, I am generally quite surprised by the result, which seems to far exceed my abilities, almost as if I didn’t write it myself.

I am staying upstate this week at my place. It is my paradise: nothing to do, no one to meet; just writing and chanting. Japa meditation—all forms of meditation—are like starting a car. You don’t start in the highest gear; you have to gradually build up speed. Likewise, gaining chanting momentum takes some time—not in how quickly I am chanting, but in the intensity of focus attained. I have that time this week, and with increased focus comes realization. Well, I had one. Chanting is like a heart massage. And that is the focus of today’s Greeting.

A massage is something one enjoys that happens without one’s effort. The holy name is Krishna. We can’t create God, or the holy name, by our effort. It is something that fully manifests to us only by Krishna’s mercy in response to our heart or the sincerity of our chanting. And when the holy name does come, no effort is required. Chanting then happens to us. We can relax, let the vibration of the holy name massage the heart.

Krishna is not different from His name. We vibrate the name and have direct communion with God. The vibration of the holy name is the hands of God loosening the knots of desire in the heart. Don’t just hear the holy name; feel the holy name. Let the vibration of the holy name massage the heart.

The best massage is done out of love. The holy name masseur does not charge anything. He is serving His devotee out of love. The heart massage is thus Krishna’s mercy—undeserved kindness. We feel grateful. Devotion then awakens along with a strong desire to serve. And what is that service? To become purified. We accept the caress of God to make our heart a worthy offering of devotion. Heart massage is thus our most important service. Let the vibration of the holy name massage the heart.

Krishna giveth; Krishna taketh away. I haven’t really met my quota in the sense that I prefer Monday Morning Greetings to be a bit longer. Usually the flow continues and ends at right about the appropriate length. When I paraphrased the verse from the Bhagavad-gītā that tells us that Krishna gives remembrance and knowledge, I left out a part. From Him also comes forgetfulness. Krishna has turned off the flow of this article, so I guess it is time to end. Maybe I will just go for another massage and wait for my next realization.

[1] This week is a reprint and one of my favorite posts. I now have almost six and a half years of Monday Morning Greetings. You can expect for me to post a reprint about once a month, which will give me more time that week for my other writing projects. I notice that when I go back several years I don’t even remember what I have written, so I hope they will still read fresh with you also.

[2] Paraphrase of Bhagavad-gītā 15.15.

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Dhanurdhara Swami July 4th, 2022

In my last post, I mentioned that I had something of an epiphany concerning the first verse of the Tenth Canto. Mahārāja Parīkṣit had just heard from Śukadeva Goswāmī at the end of the Ninth Canto about the lineage of saintly kings. Within that description were a few verses summarizing the activities of Krishna, which very much inspired the King to want to hear more. The Tenth Canto begins with an expression of his enthusiasm in terms of an inquiry to hear about the activities of Krishna in detail. My inspiration concerns how much Mahārāja Parīkṣit’s name reveals about the mindset behind his inquiries and how much that understanding meant to me.

The name “Parīkṣit” comes from the root words pari (in all respects, everywhere) and īkṣ (to see), which conventionally means “to examine”, the suffix making it an active principle, the examiner, which is certainly an appropriate designation for the King, considering the story of his birth and how that informed his raison d’être[1]:

King Parīkṣit saw the form of the Lord when Krishna appeared in the womb of his mother to protect him from being aborted by a special weapon that was directed at her womb by the revengeful Aśvatthāmā. The vision of the Lord’s beauty at that time made such a powerful impression on him that he would come to inspect all people in search of that personality he had seen in the womb. As that pursuit formed his constant contemplation and his reason for living, he became famous as Parīkṣit, the examiner.

His name therefore gives us insight to the degree of emotion he must have felt in anticipation of finally coming to a part in the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam where the pastimes of Krishna, the one whom he had been searching for and contemplating his whole life, are finally described. He was already so enthralled with what he had heard on the science of Krishna that even the vow he made on the verge of death to give up eating and drinking could not hinder his absorption. The opportunity, however, to now directly hear the pastimes of Krishna brought his enthusiasm to hear to even newer heights. It is this intensity of longing to hear the pastimes of Krishna recorded in the first sixteen verses of the Tenth Canto that is the catalyst for the ninety chapters that follow, which describe Krishna’s pastimes and serve as the fulfillment of the search of one designated as “Parīkṣit”.

And here is where the name “Parīkṣit”, the examiner, really struck me. Am I also not the examiner? Did I not also have an experience of Krishna, one that made me also seek Him as the goal of my life? If not, then why I am still chanting His name and calling myself a devotee? Like Parīkṣit, am I not the person who is about die, if not by my advanced age, at least by the glaring reality before me of the world of death? Have I also not come to the oasis of the Tenth Canto, where this desperate and dying soul can certainly quench his spiritual search and find the joy of eternal life in the beautiful pastimes of Krishna? What is the use of my life if I don’t imbibe the import of Parīkṣit by prioritizing and absorbing myself in the pastimes of Krishna?

[1] The most important reason or purpose for someone or something’s existence.

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Dhanurdhara Swami June 27th, 2022

I got positive feedback from my last post—that the message was succinct and profound. It is always edifying to be encouraged. “Die to Live” was a simple offering of 500 words, but simple it was not. Finishing it was excruciating. I almost gave up many times. My “pen” finally rested Sunday night.

There is no rest for the wicked[1]. Today I began again to write the next post, but what to write? I had no idea. I chanted and prayed. An inspiration came: You struggled last week, so why not share your process of writing?

Inspiration

Writing begins with an inspiration. Without having some realization to write about, the “pen” can’t move forward. A realization is a vision of truth, a conception that is not just understood, but an epiphany—something that is seen. My faith is that wisdom texts and spiritual practice gives one the lens to get those glimpses of realization, those visions of truth. I believe that most of us have more of those “epiphanies” than we realize. They are often fleeting and gone before we even realize that we have them. A commitment to writing keeps us ready for them so that when they flash by, they can be noted and recalled, just like dreams are usually only remembered when we make the conviction to write them down upon waking. Realizations may not come often, but I seem to get at least one per week to write about. When I do get one, I start the “pen” moving, or I jot down those writing realizations for the future. The test of a realization is the ability to communicate it. If the realization is deep enough, the whole article is sometimes practically seen before I write it and does not take long, but when the realization is not deep, like last week, only the demand of writing that realization will force me to understand the point clear enough to be able to communicate it effectively, and that sometimes takes time.

Faith

To have an inspiration is one thing. To be able to mold or communicate your inspiration in a literary form so that your audience can appreciate or even experience what you have realized is another thing. Often, when starting, the task seems daunting. It is easy at that time, or at any other point in the writing journey, to give up. One needs faith to move forward.

The first conviction that pushes me forward is just the simple realization that if I never start, I will never finish. The saying I quoted from my post two weeks ago on Chinese proverbs must be firmly internalized by every writer in this regard:

Don’t believe you will ever reach the destination without leaving the shore.

Leaving the shore in writing means writing even one sentence. That exercise alone activates the mind in amazing ways, and a lot of the quandaries in conceptualizing and expressing your point will then go on in the mind off page and even subliminally.

My faith that my initial inspiration will manifest into the proper expression of it is further fortified by my experience. What’s my experience? I have been writing one article a week for six and a half years. Often, even usually, when I begin the task to mold my inspiration into something of substance, I can’t imagine succeeding, but my “trust by experience”—my favorite definition of faith—is that when I commit to a certain number of hours of writing by the end of the week, the result inevitably comes by Krishna’s grace.

And that is another important factor in giving me the confidence that I can complete a post of quality every week—my faith in Krishna, or God. If one is given a service for Krishna, the empowerment to execute it no doubt comes with it. I see no other reason why I have been able to write articles that have maintained the interest of my audience for so long, as I was never a writer growing up, or in the first twenty-five years of my service in ISKCON. So, in that sense, I do not feel it is me writing. I just do my service and leave the result to Krishna. The focus on service, rather than result, inspires me to write without fear or angst and is an important element in my process of writing.

Focus

Now, on to the technical process of my writing. Over thirty years ago I took a course in the VIHE[2] on clear thinking and strong speaking given by Śrīla Prabhupāda’s personal editor, Jayadvaita Swami. The course also discussed good writing. What I took away from the course more than anything else is that good speaking and writing must have a focus—one idea or theme that unifies every paragraph and page. I loved the “so what” exercise, where you go through every paragraph of writing and ask that question. If you can’t answer it affirmatively by connecting the paragraph you have written to your theme and the flow of your article, you either must hone that paragraph so it does, or delete the paragraph as irrelevant.

This is how I specifically apply that process. My theme is my inspiration or realization. I continue writing as long as I feel my theme is focused and logically progressing from the previous paragraph. When I get stuck and I just can’t figure out how to proceed, I have the luxury of going back to the very beginning of my article to hone my writing from the very first sentence, as my posts are rarely more than a thousand words. As what I have written so far has been relatively focused, going over the article again really sharpens my realization of the theme and refines my logical expression of it. When I then get to the part where I am stuck, I usually have a much better idea where I should be proceeding to keep it focused. It may take deep thought to figure that out, but at least I now know what I must do to keep it focused. If it is still difficult to proceed, I will go back to the beginning and start again, even rereading the piece several times to help overcome that one place where I am stuck. Sometimes by doing so I realize that I have not understood my focus or theme clearly enough and must rewrite several paragraphs. So, if you appreciate that my articles are succinct and focused, then the wisdom of the French philosopher Pascal is relevant: “I would have written a shorter letter, but I did not have the time.” In other words, I take the time to write it. Ironically, this week my article is a bit long. Due to extenuating circumstances, I didn’t have the time I wanted to write it. And there is still more.

It is Sunday morning, I have about a half hour to finish this because I still must chant more, prepare for my Sunday class, give the class, and then leave for a program and head Upstate. Before sitting down to write, I took a bit of a power walk and chanted for a half hour, as I usually do upon rising. I was trying to concentrate on the mantra, but some thought came about the first verse in the Tenth Canto, which I am teaching now. It was an epiphany, as I have never read what I saw before in that first verse. It is also the inspiration or realization I needed for my next Monday Morning Greeting.

What I found especially edifying about this realization was the fact of having that realization alone was the perfect way, in my opinion, to accomplish the last two things I needed to finish this post before getting it to my editor in about a half an hour–to discuss the importance of a good ending that summarizes the theme and to have a good ending.

A good ending highlights your theme and brings you full circle back to the introduction of your article, which hopefully had outlined your theme in an interesting way. My theme was about my process of writing, which centers on elucidating clearly a realization or inspiration. My article began by discussing the interesting way I gained the realization to write this post, so it is quite apropos to end with the interesting way I got the inspiration to write the next one, which highlights my theme—the process of writing that focuses on an inspiration to be communicated. That the inspiration for writing in both cases came so suddenly also highlights to me the most important part of a Vaiṣṇava’s process of writing, and certainly mine, and how this whole article, and every article I write, begins:

“I am seated in everyone’s heart, and from Me comes remembrance, knowledge and forgetfulness.” (Bg. 15.15)

[1] This saying originates from a Biblical verse (Isaiah 48:22). In the modern context it is used as a simple way to say one is always busy.

[2] Vrindavan Institute for Higher Education

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Dhanurdhara Swami June 20th, 2022

Die to Live[1]

Last Saturday I met my swami friend, Kadamba Kanana Maharaja. He was chanting and dancing enthusiastically at the Ratha-yātrā festival for hours and hours, but his prognosis is not good. His cancer has metastasized. He will leave soon for Vrindavan to prepare for the final journey. Our prayers are with him.

Naturally that got me thinking about death, but I felt foolish: Why do I need someone dying to get me thinking about death? What can be a starker fact of life? Such obliviousness is especially unbecoming for me, a sannyāsi, a monk.

The whole idea about the renounced order is that it is a stage of life where one is supposed to “die to live”, an interesting paradox that highlights why it is so inappropriate for a sannyāsi to lose that sense of the ever-present world of death. This becomes clear when one understands what death really is.

Death, or the phrase “die” as used in the paradox, does not refer to the point where the body no longer has life, because the end of the body is not the end of life for the eternal soul. Rather, “die” signifies the real part of us that is meant to die, the ego—the misidentification of the eternal self as the body, which subjects us to the terrifying but illusory threat of non-existence commonly called death. A monk must therefore keep himself aware of bodily death to maintain the inspiration for the continuous dissolution of the pernicious ego, the ultimate cause of death. Why then when a friend has a terminal disease should it have been an epiphany for this monk?

One point here still needs to be clarified. Although the traditional sannyāsa method of dissipating the ego by the abject renunciation of all bodily desires and identification is not for everyone, the awareness of death and the inspiration it gives to transcend the false concept of the self is for all spiritual aspirants. Only the tact or method of doing so, may vary. For bhaktas, instead of abject renunciation, we starve the ego by neglecting the impulses of selfishness through full dedication to our duties and service to Krishna. This type of ego death is described in a beautiful Eleventh Canto commentary where the tapasya (austerity) for a Vaiṣṇava is described:

“Tapaḥ, or ‘austerity,’ means that despite the irrational impulses of the mind one should remain fixed in executing his proper duty in life.”[2]

This may seem to be a gentler ego death than merciless renunciation, but it is not easy, no matter what one’s station in life is, to have the integrity to live by what’s right rather than just what we, the concocted self, want—especially if one adds a commitment to the practices and mission ordained by a spiritual preceptor. But what choice do any of us have in facing the reality of “death”, but to begin in some way the practice of dying to live.

[1] “Die to Live” is an expression that Śrīla Bhakti Rakṣaka Śrīdhara Mahārāja borrowed from the German philosopher Georg Hegel to describe how when the ego is dissolved our eternal nature remains.

[2] Bhag. 11.3.24, purport

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Dhanurdhara Swami June 13th, 2022

A Personal Commentary on Chinese and Brooklyn Proverbs[1]

April 16, 2018

By chance, I came across a book of Chinese proverbs.[2] Out of curiosity, I began thumbing through the pages and wound up reading the whole thing. I’m glad I did. A quote by Francis Bacon in the introduction says it all:

“The genius, wit, and spirit of a nation are discovering proverbs.”

Here are a few of my favorites, with short personal comments on each:

Chinese Proverbs

Only one who can swallow an insult is a man.

A real man is one who has the strength of humility to control the false ego, which especially gets stirred when one is insulted.

Do everything at the right time and one day will seem like three.

To do everything at the right time means to be thoughtfully regulated in one’s activities. Making appointments with oneself helps to inoculate one from the intrusion of other less essential demands made by our minds and by others. So much can be accomplished when one does this. For example, if one wants to maintain or increase one’s chanting, then one should chant every day at a prescribed time. Every three rounds will seem like one.

Patience in one minute of anger can prevent one hundred days of sorrow.

Too much of life is wasted in dealing with problems that one has brought upon oneself by reacting impulsively. In other words, too much of what we are dealing with is self-created and could be avoided if we had more self-discipline and thoughtfulness.

There are two kinds of perfect people—those who are dead, and those who have not been born yet.

The only way not to make mistakes is to do nothing. If we sincerely endeavor to improve ourselves, even if we sometimes falter, there is no reason to feel guilty.[3]

Men will despise you only if you despise yourself.

Unfortunately, low self-esteem projects weakness and attracts scorn from those who are weak and envious. In contrast, those who feel self-worth as pure, humble servants of God attract affection from all. Srinivasa Acarya describes this about the Six Gosvamis of Vrindavan:

“They are just like the ocean of love of God, and they are popular both with the gentle and with the ruffians, because they are not envious of anyone.” (Ṣaḍ-gosvāmy-aṣṭaka 1)

To be fond of learning is to be near knowledge.

Our present knowledge is limited by our present frame of reference. There is so much more to know than what we can presently understand just by our perception. Therefore, in terms of nearing knowledge, without eagerness to learn from a teacher—an authoritative source—one is doomed either to be stuck where one is or to learn very slowly.

Only by learning do we discover how ignorant we are.

Only by learning a subject can we understand the subject’s depth—especially spiritual subjects. For example, God is infinite. Thus, the more we learn and realize about the expanse of God’s glories, the more we discover how much more there is to know.

Better to argue with a wise man than prattle with a fool.

Next time you engage with or even just follow a Facebook thread, keep this advice in mind.

To know another person is not to know the person’s face, but to know the person’s heart.

The most substantial part of any person, which is one’s nature as a friend, parent, or lover, is revealed to a person only by those who love him or her. It can never be seen by perception or analysis alone. Similarly, God can be known only when He becomes inspired to give Himself in reciprocation with one’s devotion. Sri Krishna describes this principle in the Bhagavad-gītā: “To those who are constantly devoted and worship Me with love, I give the understanding by which they can come to Me.” (Gītā 10.10)

Learning is like rowing upstream: to not advance is to fall back.

If one is not steady in one’s commitments in spiritual life, one will not gain the strength to move forward. Enthusiasm wanes for any endeavor in which one does not feel progress.

Only distance tests the strength of horses; only time reveals the hearts of man.

Many people at the beginning of their spiritual life practice at a level beyond their qualification due to their initial fervor, but as their motive is not yet pure, they often become slack in their practices. The real test of one’s devotion is when one steadily executes their service for many years despite the challenges that come over time. We should very much respect those devotees who, after decades of facing life’s natural “ups and downs,” are still steadily engaged in humble service.

I was angered, for I had no shoes; then I met a man who had no feet.

One should be content with one’s immediate needs of life. Accruing more than that will only increase one’s level of attachment, leaving one with the same level of dissatisfaction as before. According to the Yoga Sutras, the result of perfecting the niyama of contentment, this satisfaction with what one has, is the attainment of the highest happiness.

To know the road ahead, ask those coming back.

One of the six qualities that enhance bhakti is sadhu-vṛtti—to follow in the footsteps of previous acharyas. It is described that the footsteps of a sadhu are like so many lighthouses that help one cross an infinite ocean

A smile will gain you ten more years of life.

Many studies show that the single most important factor for physical health is not exercise or even diet, although they are certainly important. The single most important element necessary for a long life is the quality and amount of the good relationships one has. It is the key because it is the foundation of happiness and “a smile will gain you ten more years of life.”[4]

A book holds a house of gold.

The most valuable things we possess are life realizations, for only by seeing the truth everywhere can one become happy. Realizations come by applying what we have heard from books of knowledge. A book of true knowledge thus contains the greatest treasure.[5]

The beautiful bird is the one that is caged.

Opulence, whether it is beauty, wealth, fame, intelligence, or something else, can be used either to serve others or to control them. Unfortunately, because our desire to enjoy is so strong, we often see and use our “good karma” to control others, entangling us in the ropes of karma.

When drinking water, remember its source.

There are some things written on the subject of devotion that I don’t read even though they seem intellectually and aesthetically stimulating, because I doubt the character of the source. Whatever a person shares with conviction carries his or her heart. If a person’s convictions are jaded by an agenda, those misconceptions and feelings are subtly transferred into his or her writing.

Don’t believe you will ever reach the destination without leaving the shore.

When I begin writing Monday Morning Greetings each week, I can’t imagine that a finished article will be produced, but I realize that if I don’t start, I will never produce anything. Many talented people don’t write very much, because producing a written piece is daunting and they never start. If one leaves the shore of paralysis by simply vowing to write even a sentence or two a day, one will soon reach the destination of a completed piece.

I don’t have time to comment on all my favorites, so I will list the last few:

Listening well is as powerful as speaking well, and it is also essential to true conversation.

Disease enters through the mouth; disaster leaves from it.

Useless as a youth, useless as a man.

Learning that does not daily increase will daily decrease.

He who teaches for a day is my father for life.

Life is but a journey; death is returning home.

Brooklyn Proverbs

I have to admit, I put this in the title to make the article more attractive to read. But now I am forced to come up with at least one “Brooklyn Proverb.” I can think of only one, but it’s quite revealing about the culture I grew up in.

Nice guys finish last.

This was about as famous a quotation as there was when I was growing up in New York. It is credited to Leo “The Lip” Durocher, then the manager of the Brooklyn Dodgers professional baseball team.

[1] This article has obviously been reposted. I spent all last week writing an article for The Journal of Vaisnava Studies so I did not have the time to write a Monday Morning Greeting entry this week. I am, therefore, instead posting an article from four years ago. A reader recently commented to me that it must be an austerity for me to write a quality article every week. It certainly sometimes is, but I have to say, however, it’s not as much of an austerity now. I have become better and more efficient as a writer. Also If for reason there is some challenge to complete an article one week, I have the option go back almost up to seven years to find a relevant article to that many of my readers either haven’t seen before, or if they have, don’t remember. I hope you enjoy this one.

[2] Emil William Chynn, Chinese Proverbs for Today’s World.

[3] “Having awakened faith in the narrations of My glories, being disgusted with all material activities, knowing that all sense gratification leads to misery, but still being unable to renounce all sense enjoyment, My devotee should remain happy and worship Me with great faith and conviction. Even though he is sometimes engaged in sense enjoyment, My devotee knows that all sense gratification leads to a miserable result, and he sincerely repents such activities.” (Bhāgavatam 11.20.27–28)

[4] Robert Waldinger, What Makes a Life Good: Lessons from the Longest Study on Happiness.

[5] See “Be a Sage Page by Page” available on Apple App Store and Google Play.

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Dhanurdhara Swami June 6th, 2022

My mother was a fashion designer who prided herself in the clothes she designed and the dresses she wore, and her son comes home as a Hare Krishna dressed in shmatas! Yes, that’s the word she used to describe my robes. It is a Yiddish word for “rag” usually applied to shabby dress. Later, as I matured, I was more sensitive when visiting her. She much preferred the brightly pressed saffron silks than the crinkled faded cottons. “Oh beautiful,” she said, as she reached out from her seat to feel it’s fine texture and admire the bright saffron color. I think she would have been happy to see my picture in Street Unicorns.

Street Unicorns is a newly published coffee table book that highlights the dress of boldly stylish New Yorkers with the strong urge to express their authentic self in fashion, regardless of what people think. But what the hell am I doing in such a book?

It was a little more than two years ago, during a pleasant pre-COVID summer, while walking around Union Square Park with Madhava das during his break from leading kirtan with the harinama party, when we were stopped by a pleasant gentleman admiring our “unique” garb. He spoke something about a book he was writing, asked to take our picture, got our information, sincerely thanked us, and left. Soon we got documents describing in more detail his project and asking us to sign a release so that he could use our pictures. Two weeks ago, the book was released.

Robbie Quinn, the author, is an excellent photographer, and just as good a writer. Although it is not by any means my usual monk reading fare, I was impressed with the book. It was so well written that once I began skimming the three-thousand-word introduction, I was drawn to go back and read what the author was saying more carefully.

Mr. Quinn’s passion is authenticity, a quality he says that can often make people impelled to express themselves in ways that don’t conform to the crowd. He reasons that it is very difficult to do this in smaller, more provincial places that thrive on such conformity. He therefore appreciates New York City, where historically many new people arrive and those in residence get used to, and even welcome, others who are different than themselves. In his introduction, he describes this phenomenon and how it spurs creativity and why it inspired him to honor this expression of authenticity in fashion through his photography:

“It may sound counter-intuitive, but perhaps because there are so many new people coming to cities all the time, everyone seems to be more curious rather than suspicious of one another, Presenting yourself in a different way might not be judged as harshly, and there is already someone that gets you, somebody that feels something similar. An idea is shared, and movements born. This can happen with regard to music, fashion, and social issues—any situation where open minds can meet.”

I think you may all be appreciating this week’s post but may question what this has to do with my weekly blog, whose theme is wisdom based on the Krishna bhakti tradition. I just loved the picture from the book, and so did those few I shared it with. I felt that my readership would also, especially as it was with Madhava, who needs no introduction as arguably the most respected kirtan singer in the current international Krishna bhakti movement. Street Unicorns was my inspiration this week, and I felt inspired to write about the picture and see how I could fit it into my blog. Did I put the cart before the horse in the sense that due to my enthusiasm for the book, I began a post before I had some specific realization to share, while usually I start first with a specific realization in mind? The answer is yes, but I think it worked, and by telling the story of the picture something came within my mind to share. Here it is:

It is ironic that I am in a book of people who want to stand-out, because the saffron color of the robes of a monk is literally called “kasaya”[1], indicating freedom from dressing in a materially attractive way.[2]  My motive for dressing the way I do, in that sense, is exactly the opposite of a “street unicorn” as Robbie Quinn defines it: a bold person wanting to stand out and express their non-conformity. So rather than being a “street unicorn”, my simple robes are more a conformity and submission to a spiritual ideal than an expression of uniqueness. On the other hand, although it is non-descript, my dress expresses authenticity in another way. It is certainly an expression of the person I am or want to be—a dedicated servant of God who wants to exemplify and feel by his dress a life of simple living and high thinking.[3]

Now here is the irony: In another way, I do stand out by my dress, because the culture I am representing is transplanted here in the West. By wearing my robes, I am making a public statement that “I am different, this is who I am, come find out if you are interested.” This is what the first Hare Krishnas who came to England purposely did. They specifically shaved their head and wore robes, which they hadn’t done before, to stand out. They were successful beyond their wildest dreams. They stood out and attracted the curiosity of the Beatles, which led Apple Records to produce The Radha Krishna Temple album,[4] one of the songs which reached the twelfth most popular on the UK Billboard chart at the time.

I also related to Robbie Quinn’s description of New York, how it developed a culture of diversity and acceptance that fosters conversations with the curious and like-minded, which gives birth to trends and new movements like no other place in the world. When I read that, it highlighted in my mind the genius of Śrīla Prabhupāda coming to New York and why his movement started and flourished there. Hey, if I just wore slacks and a baseball cap how would Robbie have ever found me!

Let me end here with a corny finish—you know the ones where immediately after a loved one has died their adult child achieves some great accomplishment, usually winning a significant sporting event, and to honor the departed they sentimentally point to the heavens to offer their success to their loved one. Let me do that here for my mother, who died last September in her hundred and first year:

“Mama, look! Your boy who came to you in shmatas is now a fashion icon!”

[1] Kasaya or kashāya (Sanskrit: कषाय) means, ‘astringent’, ‘decay’, ‘smearing’, ‘juice’, ‘degeneracy’, ‘anointing’, ‘gum’, ‘resin’, ‘red-brown’, ‘stupidity’, ‘defect’, ‘fragrant’. It also means ‘attachment to worldly objects’ or to ‘the yellowish-red garments worn by monks’.

[2] “The kaṣāya, or saffron loincloth of a sannyāsī, indicates freedom from all attractive material garments.” (Bhag. 1.15.40, Purport)

[3] While visiting the Supersoul Farm in Upstate New York I met one lady named Sandy from Boston. I showed her the book and began describing it, and somehow she connected it to Bill Cunningham, a photographer she had admired. I found that interesting as the book was dedicated to him. Yesterday I got a note from Sandy that had similar realizations to me as to why my simple dress was a good fit for Street Unicorns: “I had a realization after I left that you might find interesting. The fashion book that you’re featured in…dedicated to Bill Cunningham…and about authenticity and style. Bill Cunningham only wore one outfit ever, which was the uniform of hotel cleaning staff, very humble garb. (He also lived in a tiny room with almost no belongings.) That bears resonance with the concept of spiritual dress: that is what is most authentic (and radical, in material culture) in not identifying with one’s outer layers.”

[4] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Radha_Krsna_Temple_(album)

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Dhanurdhara Swami May 30th, 2022

A Fifth Commandment Solution to a Second Amendment Problem [1]

March 12, 2018

I was disturbed to hear about the recent school shootings in Florida and the epidemic of school shootings in general. I can’t imagine the pain of a mother burying her own child. I don’t have much to add to the debate on an immediate solution, but the liberality that assault weapons are accessible seems absurd. Obviously, something must be done.

Although some form of legislation is needed to help alleviate this endemic problem, I can’t help but think that there is something more deeply amiss at the root that will not be solved by Second Amendment legislation—the increasing widespread frustration in American youth inevitably expressed in some form of destruction, whatever their weapon of choice. In saying this, I do not intend to minimize the fact that the damage of that destructive urge can be exponentially increased by one’s weapon of choice, just voicing my concern that the root of the problem should not be neglected and that a comprehensive solution must include and prioritize what I call a Fifth Commandment solution.

The Fifth Commandment states simply, “Honor thy father and mother.” I call the pervasiveness of mass shootings a Fifth Commandment problem to highlight that a culture that does not sufficiently focus on and safeguard the influence and importance of the family in the lives of its children will produce a society bursting with resentment and prone to violence, regardless of whether guns are restricted or schools become armed fortresses. Krishna voiced similar concerns about the destabilization of family and its effect on society thousands of years ago in the Bhagavad-gītā, specifically referring to what happens to society when the men in the family are lost due to war.[2]

Unfortunately, today we are seeing in full force what Krishna foresaw in terms of the effect of fatherless families, not due to war, as was Krishna’s concern, but instead due to the general degradation of dharma itself, where the grave duty to properly shelter one’s offspring is selfishly minimized or neglected. This level of irresponsibility in relation to family is a relatively new phenomenon, as is the astronomical spike in mass shootings, practically one a day since the New Year.[3] Can anyone doubt there is a correlation?

I was inspired to do a bit of quick research to support this connection. Here are just a few of the things highlighting this unfortunate parallel between the degradation of cultural norms and school violence, beginning with a description of a reputable university-sponsored project that researched the matter:

“The Director of the National Marriage Project at the University of Virginia, Brad Wilcox, pointed out in 2013 that nearly every U.S. school shooting that year involved a young male whose parents either divorced or never married in the first place. ‘[A]s the nation seeks to make sense of these senseless shootings, we must also face the uncomfortable truth that turmoil at home all too often accounts for the turmoil we end up seeing spill onto our streets and schools,’ he wrote in his article “Sons of Divorce, School Shooters.” ‘The social scientific evidence about the connection between violence and broken homes could not be clearer.’ ”[4]

Dr. Warren Farrell, author of “Boys in Crisis,” discusses this same correlation:

“Boys with significant father involvement are not doing these shootings. Without dads as role models, boys’ testosterone is not well channeled. The boy experiences a sense of purposelessness, a lack of boundary enforcement, rudderlessness, and often withdraws into video games and video porn. At worst, when boys’ testosterone is not well channeled by an involved dad, boys become among the world’s most destructive forces. When boys’ testosterone is well channeled by an involved dad, boys become among the world’s most constructive forces.”

The absence of parental influence in children’s lives is not the only contributing factor to societal ills. The devaluation of motherhood can also have a profound effect. In this regard, I was recently sent an interview with Erica Kosimar, a psychoanalyst, concerning her book Being There: Why Prioritizing Motherhood in the First Three Years Matters. Here is an excerpt about her book:

“It’s a problem in our society that all mothers and babies can’t be together for the first year. Our society tells women, ‘Go back to work,’ ‘Do what you want. They’ll be ok.’ And the truth is, children are not ok.

“The book is basically about a devaluing of mothering in society. I was seeing a devaluing of mothering that was impacting children in my parent guidance practice. I was actually seeing an epidemic level of mental disorders [emphasis mine] in very young children who were being diagnosed and medicated at an earlier and earlier age, and I became concerned. And so I started looking at the research, which backed up what I was seeing in my practice—that the absence of mothers on a daily basis in children’s lives was impacting their mental health.”[5]

Broken families across America are producing mentally disturbed and violent children at a rapidly increasing rate. Certainly, the liberality to which such people have access to weapons and the level of those weapons’ destructiveness is a very serious problem that needs to be addressed immediately, but ultimately more than anything else America has a Fifth Commandment problem.

[1] I was almost finished with this week’s Monday Morning Greeting when I read of the school shooting in Texas. Srila Prabhupada liked us to comment on topical issues through the perspective of our philosophical tradition. I therefore wanted to address the recent tragedy, so I am reprinting an old article that dealt with what I think is the root of these problems. After reviewing the issue now at hand, I want to add that what I am suggesting is one consideration amongst others to deal with this tragic issue. I don’t want to minimize the fact that this particular tragedy was avoidable on countless levels and that actual solutions need to be put into action now.

[2] “With the destruction of the dynasty, the eternal family tradition is vanquished, and thus the rest of the family becomes involved in irreligion.” (Gītā 1.39)

[3] https://www.massshootingtracker.org/

[4] https://www.thetrumpet.com/16925-another-school-shooter-another-fatherless-child/

[5] https://nypost.com/video/working-moms-are-producing-mentally-ill-children-saysauthor/

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