Waves of Devotion

Dhanurdhara Swami February 20th, 2023

Recognize the title?[1] It’s a parody of a verse by Muhammad Ali. What is important, however, is not where the verse originates, but what I am conveying through it. I am describing the practice of mādhukarī—literally mādhu (bee) to do (karī)—where sādhus gracefully saunter (float) in ecstasy around Govardhana Hill and sustain themselves by taking just a few roṭīs each from the homes of selected brāhmaṇas whose families have been fortunate to carry out this sādhu-sevā for generations, just like a bee who only takes (eats) a little pollen from each flower and goes onto the next.

Somehow—not sure why—I became inspired to give it a try this week. So, I was off to the nearby village of Āniyora to beg for roṭīs from the designated houses where they cook for sādhus. I didn’t get far, however. The first home I approached was the family of Bal Kishan, my 83-year-old Brijabasi friend, the very simple, pious patriarch of the Sharma family. I couldn’t proceed to other houses as Bal Kishan implored me to stay for a full meal, but sitting there did afford me the opportunity to not only observe the saintly sādhus coming for mādhukarī, but more importantly to witness the infectious mood of sādhu-sevā exuding from my hosts. Just by sitting there a realization came that I would like to share, but first I will briefly finish describing what I saw today on mādhukarī.

“Radhe! Radhe!” A humble sādhu comes to the doorway of the second and main floor of my friend’s Brijabasi dwelling, announcing his arrival in the most familiar of Braja greetings, which is also a local mantra for roṭī begging. The whole family, including Bal Kishan and seven grandchildren (all teens), innocently lounge in the traditional center family room, peacefully enjoying one another’s company, while just outside one of the mothers sits on the floor of the adjacent roofless veranda turning out roṭī after roṭī in their simple rustic kitchen. Immediately, the oldest granddaughter runs to the kitchen and takes two roṭīs and a scoop of sabjī from her mother’s hand, which the peaceful sādhu accepts humbly and smiles his blessings to the family before gently leaving to bless the next house with mādhukarī.

There is a takeaway from my mādhukarī morning and it’s śāstric—the ritual of opening one’s house to guests, especially true devotees of God, is one of the most powerful positive influences on the consciousness of a household, especially its children.

I think the most important reference supporting this principle about the power of Vaiṣṇava hospitality is found in the second chapter of the First Canto of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam where Sūta Gosvāmī analyzes bhāgavata-dharma and concludes dharmasya hy āpavargyasya[2]—that dharma leads to liberation. What intrigued me the most about this verse, however, was a commentary that answered the question of exactly how dharma leads to liberation: A dharmic person opens his house to saintly persons and as one of them is likely to be a Vaiṣṇava, they inevitably will be blessed with bhakti, and that is how dharma leads to liberation. Bal Kishan’s family is certainly a testimony to the power of this principle.

Observing the beauty of this sādhu-serving family, a story from the novel Jaiva Dharma by Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura came to mind that seems to also confirm this same principle of the power of opening one’s house to others, but in an indirect way. It’s about a miserly couple who never opened their house for the service of others, although they lived in the most pious district of Saptagram, a community known specifically for their generosity. As a result of their miserliness, instead of producing generous children as the other families of the district had done, the children of this couple imbibed their parents’ mood. They became so greedy that they even usurped their parents’ house and even exiled them from their own town. Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura makes a very instructive point in this regard—that one moves from kaniṣṭha (neophyte) bhakta to madhyaṁ (fixed) bhakta when, through this type of generosity, the number of quality associates one brings into one’s life exceeds the number of people who are not spiritual.

Well, I failed at mādhukarī. I left the first house I visited not like a bee, but instead stuffed with roṭīs. I began the article with a parody of a statement by Muhammad Ali, but as I waddled back to my place, I only then realized that the joke was on me! Some bee!

[1] The title is a parody of the famous quote from Mohammad Ali — “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.” — describing his fighting style where he would gracefully prance around the ring and then “sting” the opponent with his jab.

[2] Bhag. 1.2.9

• Monday Morning Greetings
• Comments (0)

Dhanurdhara Swami February 13th, 2023

About two months ago, my computer was in repair, and I had to write my Monday Morning Greetings by iPhone. I shared with someone how difficult it was. She said, “Why not just use a pen and paper?” Duh! I was so technologically conditioned that the alternative never even crossed my mind. My computer has crashed again, and I’m writing this on a legal pad. Ah! The joy of no texts! Here it goes:

Last week, I wrote about visiting an enchanting thick forest ashram in Vraja, where the sadhus live unencumbered by any modern technology, even electricity, and where hundreds of cows roam with their calves, just as they did when Krishna was here—and who is still here for those with eyes to see.

Just being there had such a powerful effect on my consciousness that it inspired a remembrance of a statement that I read many years ago. I think it was by Paramahamsa Yogananda:

“In terms of elevating our consciousness, environment is more powerful than willpower.”

Influenced by the power of this simple and devotionally laden environment, I began to reflect on how much I have fallen into the illusion that technology is essential to happiness, while, in fact, it mostly degrades the spirit. I was shocked. Have I been captured by the enemy?

OK. I get it. We need and use so many things from the modern techno world that have become essential for our day-to-day living, including our service to God. But are they essential, or do we only require them to counteract the inconvenience that this same modern techno world has thrust upon us, like the dire necessity for the sophisticated tools of communication to assuage the loneliness caused by the advancement of technology, which has broken communities and scattered friends and family all over the world? Wouldn’t it be great if, like the days of yore, all of our loved ones lived within walking distance, and it took just a few steps for all of us to join together in the saṅkīrtana of the holy name?

I am astounded at the powerbrokers in the modern world who, with almost a religious fervor, try to sell us the cult of technology as a solution to the world’s problems while the quality of life under their direction with every step forward seems to move progressively towards hell. Do they really believe their dogma?

Evidently, they do. Last month, while browsing through the airport bookstore, I briefly skimmed through 21 Lessons for the 21st Century by Professor Yuval Noah Harari, perhaps the most prominent voice today promoting the expansion of technology for the evolution and betterment of mankind. I took interest in him from a video someone sent me of his lecture at the World Economic Forum, where he seemed to serve as their intellectual spokesman[1]. Harari is no doubt a brilliant person. He fits carefully into the fourth category of people mentioned in Bhagavad-gītā who never come to Krishna, “those whose knowledge is stolen by illusion”.[2]

Harari professes a philosophy called “Dataism”, a title that he coined, which promotes a mindset that worships “Big Data”.[3] In short, he strongly believes and preaches that there is no soul, and thus the next step in evolution, if engineered carefully, is the development and perfection of human behavior through the collection and manipulation of data by the increasing sophistication of technology. A few of his thoughts for a better world:

“People are bad algorithms soon to be reduced to be replaced because machines can do it better.”

“In the future, the elite, with their advanced technologies, will determine what is best for mankind.”

I sit here in my room, pen and paper in hand, remembering the powerful effect on my consciousness of sitting in an untouched forest with pure sadhus and hundreds of cows. I was also inspired today to scorn the absurdity of technocrats claiming to improve God’s creation when, by their mercy, we sit on the brink of moral and economic collapse. Sadhus or cyborgs? What will you choose? I know my choice. If the land of the cows and simple sadhu-like village folk of Vraja is God’s vision for perfection, it is certainly good enough for me!

[1] https://youtu.be/QuL3wlodJC8

[2] Bg 7.15

[3] “Big Data” is defined, simply, as data that is so large, fast, or complex, that it is difficult or impossible to process with traditional methods.

• Monday Morning Greetings
• Comments (0)

Dhanurdhara Swami February 6th, 2023

The Joy of No Texts

I recently visited a far-off sacred forest of Vrindavan that I had never seen before. I was stunned by the beauty of a community of sadhus who have lived naturally, and who have protected a large forest, lush with peacocks and herds of cows, with no technology. I chanted “Jaya Radhe” and hundreds of cows affectionately walked towards me from hundreds of feet away. I became enlivened to write about the joy of no technology. When I returned home, the Gods of technology took revenge, and my computer crashed again. Luckily, they have allowed me to dictate this through my iPhone to Kadamba Mala, my editor. I have sent my computer back to America for repair, and I will also get a new one. For the next month I will write Monday Morning Greetings by hand. I am looking forward to the challenge of defeating the Gods of technology, who have, in a way, captured our souls. I am therefore forced to include a short reprint for an unprecedented third time in a row. Please forgive me.

What Makes Something Funny?

May 30, 2016

During my research for a talk on What Makes Something Funny, which was meant to follow a performance by the B.Centered comedy group, I was surprised that every great philosopher, from Aristotle to Kant, had a theory on comedy. I read through one thinker after the next, trying to understand what makes something funny, but I found the most profound theory to be the one espoused by none other than Groucho Marx:

“Humor is reason gone mad.”

It may be funny that Marx trumps Schopenhauer, but it seemed to make the most sense, as it was similar to a theory of comedy I had espoused many years before, based on the Bhagavad-gītā.[1]

I had posited that everything in this world serves the purpose of the world, which is liberation. As the Gītā says, when you are forced to act helplessly according to the modes of nature, you are a fool. I had surmised that comedy is a parody of that. If you describe someone who acts very thoughtfully, it is not funny but sobering. I had thus theorized that humor discourages conditioning by laughing at it. And now, fifteen years after writing my thesis on what makes something funny, while studying the theories of all major philosophers, I am convinced of the validity of mine—that humor is part of the Absolute Reality meant to discourage our folly—by the insights of Marx (not Karl):

Humor is reason gone mad!

[1] http://wavesofdevotion.com/2001/01/13/calcuttamayapur-met-kaustubha-jai-nitai/

• Monday Morning Greetings
• Comments (0)

Dhanurdhara Swami January 30th, 2023

Spiritual Momentum [1]

April 3, 2017

Have you ever lost spiritual momentum? It happens to us all. I had a realization about that in relation to my writing that seemed applicable to spiritual life. I would like to share it, but first I think I need to define what I mean by “momentum.”

Momentum means the power gained when moving or continuing something that grows stronger as time passes, a force that is lost when stopping or pausing, and a force that takes time to build up when beginning to move again. A good example of momentum is when you are driving a car. As you are moving you gradually may be able to shift into high gear and gain momentum, allowing you to cruise along at a high speed effortlessly. However, when you stop and have to start again, that momentum has been lost and only gradually restores after some time.

This concept of momentum in relation to spiritual life dawned on me when faced with the weekly demand of writing Monday Morning Greetings. I noticed that when I don’t write every day, I lose momentum and it takes an inordinate amount of time to shift into a reasonable pace of writing when I begin again. In contrast, when I write every day without fail, I seem to remain in high gear and can immediately build on the frame of reference where I left off. It seems that continuity over time in all endeavors gives momentum and enhances productivity.

I then also realized how much this same phenomenon of momentum was applicable to my spiritual practice. While in India this year, I was able to sustain the practice of rising very early every day for my chanting. I noticed how after a while my practice substantially increased both in amount and quality. Since arriving in the United States, a combination of disrupted plans, late night programs, and unexpected travel disturbed my regulation, especially rising early, causing a reduction in the amount and focus of my chanting. When that temporary disruption in schedule passed, my practice had lost momentum and ironically the minimum prescribed amount seemed as daunting as what I had being doing for almost a year, although then I was doing substantially more. Only gradually was I able to gain the momentum to sustain the previous level of practice.

This phenomenon of momentum is alluded to in the Yoga Sutras, where practice is defined as “concentration, without break, for a prolonged time with the right mood.” Here it specifically mentions that practice must be unbroken. In other words, it just can’t be casually done here and there, for even if you do the same amount sporadically, which is unlikely, you will not have the same momentum or gear to focus intensely. And I will add that without such focus, and the consequent realization and taste that follows, even the minimum amount of chanting will remain difficult and arduous. That’s the reason serious practitioners chant their japa at least in concentrated and unbroken bunches of four, eight or sixteen rounds and not haphazardly here and there.

Conclusion: Strictly set aside a time and place for chanting, for without minimum uninterrupted effort, we will never get the momentum to chant spontaneously and with realization. Rather, our chanting will remain a bore and the effort to perfect one’s life hampered.

I am writing this very early in the morning, trying to get back to my schedule. I will now pick up my beads and try to apply what I just wrote. For the next two hours, I will practice without break, confident that momentum will build an realizations will come, and that the thing that is best for me in this world, chanting the holy name, will more and more become the thing that I derive the most pleasure from. That is the glory of momentum.

[1] I am sorry I have to offer another reprint. We are in the second week of our Puri/Govardhana retreat and I have no time to write. You should receive a new Monday Morning Greeting next week.

• Monday Morning Greetings
• Comments (0)

Dhanurdhara Swami January 23rd, 2023

The Ten Foundational Principles of Yoga [1]

1. The goal of yoga and all spiritual paths is to end suffering.

2. Reality is beautiful, and therefore all suffering is caused by illusion. For example, the greatest fear is death, but death itself is an illusion—the illusion of non-existence. Free from illusion, we can see the beauty of the eternal soul.

3. Illusion is caused by the distorted or impure mind, by the myriad of selfish thoughts.

4. To free our self from illusion and alleviate suffering, the mind must be brought to sattva. Sattva literally means “the nature of being,” or the true nature of something. What is the true nature of the mind? The mind is like a lens or mirror, and thus its true nature is to be clean, free from distortion, and perfectly perceptive of what is before it. Therefore, when the mind is in sattva we are able to perceive and live in our eternal spiritual nature.

5. Yoga, or meditation, is the technique, or method, to bring the mind to sattva. Its strategy is simple. As the mind is distorted by a myriad of thoughts, if we can just steadily concentrate on one thought, then all other thoughts will gradually be quelled and the mind will slowly morph into a higher level of perception and contentment.

6. When for a prolonged and uninterrupted period of concentration the mind is so fixed in meditation that one is not even cognizant of anything outside the object of our mediation, then one has reached samādhi, the goal of yoga.

7. We can steady the mind in one of two ways: by our intelligence, the strong understanding that it is good for us to fix our mind on the object of our meditation, or by our heart, a strong attachment to the object of our meditation.

8. To be connected to an object of contemplation through some feeling (emotion) is superior to being connected by our obligation or understanding (the intelligence), because it is naturally more absorbing.

9. Mantras have thus been the preferred object of meditation for yogis through the ages, because it is God in sound. As described in the Yoga Sutras, God and the expression, or name, of God are nondifferent. Being part of God, we thus have a natural relationship with mantra, and by focusing on mantra our love and absorption for mantra naturally increases. It is also preferred because the mantra is not just an inert prop to help steady the mind; it is an all-powerful Supreme Person who can reciprocate with our meditational devotion by helping us remove the obstacles to meditation.

10. As the most consummate emotion is devotion or love, bhakti-yoga, the yoga of devotion, is the topmost yoga.

[1] Due to his Puri Yatra, Dhanurdhara Swami was unable to finish a new Monday Morning Greetings. Instead we are sharing this one originally published on December 12, 2016.

• Monday Morning Greetings
• Comments (0)

Dhanurdhara Swami January 16th, 2023

“One should chant the holy name of the Lord in a humble state of mind, thinking oneself lower than the straw in the street; one should be more tolerant than a tree, devoid of all sense of false prestige and ready to offer all respects to others. In such a state of mind one can chant the hold name of the Lord constantly.”

This is arguably the most important verse for those following Śrī Caitanya. When Śrī Raghunātha dāsa inquired from Śrī Caitanya about the goal of life, this was the verse He recited in response, which is significant, for based on Raghunātha’s strict adherence to this verse he was accepted in the Gauḍīya tradition as the ācārya (the main teacher and exemplar) on how to attain its goal of prema-bhakti.

The phrase “a humble state of mind” is not a literal translation by Śrīla Prabhupāda of any word or phrase in the third verse of the Śikṣāṣṭakam. I think, however, it is an essential inclusion to the translation of this verse to properly convey its meaning, otherwise one might misunderstand that you can think yourself into being humble rather than develop a humble consciousness, or state of mind. In other words, one should certainly think oneself lower than the straw in the street, but that doesn’t mean humility, or any emotion, can manifest by the force of just one or a few thoughts. Rather, humility must manifest by a process of changing our nature or consciousness, which also entails the practice of praying, thinking, and acting in a humble way.

The phrase “a humble state of mind” is also an effective way of categorizing the qualities mentioned in the verse of material insignificance, respectfulness, and tolerance so we can understand them in the context of humility, which is the intent of the verse. It also gives us a frame of reference for the verse’s conclusion and last line—that if you develop this “humble state of mind” symptomized by these qualities, then you can perfect your devotion and chant always.

It is not difficult to see the correlation between the humble state of mind and its symptoms. For example: the quality of tolerance. Naturally a humble person who realizes God as the center of their existence and the object of their adoration doesn’t get disturbed when someone or some things do not conform to the way they want, because a modest person no longer has a sense of entitlement and therefore has no demands for how the world moves around them for their own gratification and feels no frustration when it doesn’t.

A humble state of mind is also the foundation of respect. A humble person can be fully secure and satisfied in their relationship with God and thus doesn’t think of themself better than others, or, for that matter, harbor any resentment to those who are. Free from envy: it is easy to see the spark of God in others and honor them. If one doesn’t have a lens of humility, however, they will only see in others their conditioning and ordinary dealings, even in people who are exalted, and thus miss their inspired or godly side. In contrast, one with a lens imbued with humility will shun honor, for in awareness of God’s presence expecting honor for oneself is neither reality nor what one desires.

I once read a phrase—I can’t remember the source—but it goes something like this: “We don’t think humble to act humble, but rather we act humble to think humble.” So true. Acting modestly, with tolerance and respect—the foundational characteristic of humility—is exactly the process to develop a humble state of mind.

Now the conclusion. If you act this way and develop these qualities, you can chant always. Why? Without humility there is no question of experiencing love, which is the essence of happiness—happiness being the reason we sustain any activity—and thus only the truly humble soul with consequent feelings of love and devotion can chant the names of his beloved Lord with joy ceaselessly.

The significance of this verse for Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇavas cannot be underestimated, for in this verse Śrī Caitanya Himself outlines His simple four-fold process for achieving love of God, the ultimate goal of life: humility, tolerance, respect and chant the holy name always!

• Monday Morning Greetings
• Comments (0)

Dhanurdhara Swami January 9th, 2023

Akincana Krishna das shared with me a meditation technique he had been using before he came to Krishna consciousness and how he decided to use it. He loved kirtan, but he had one frustration participating in it. He felt his kirtan lacked internal depth, so he turned to something that gave him some of his deepest spiritual experiences before he was a devotee and applied it to his devotional practice.[1] It worked. His focus on the holy name deepened, but he had one doubt. The person he learned that technique from seemed to ultimately have an impersonal goal. Was it alright to adopt a practice from such a divergent path? He sought my opinion. I listened very carefully as he explained what he was doing.

The practice Akincana Krishna das was using seemed simple and not controversial. It basically entailed just picking a spiritually inspirational verse or verses that could be practically applied in life and very slowly repeating the verse (or verses) again and again for thirty minutes, dwelling on its meaning until it brought him into a meditative state. He picked the Śikṣāṣṭakam for the practice, and the first thing in the morning every day he would repeat these devotional laden verses for thirty minutes, alternating the Sanskrit with the English translation. He described that doing this would “stain” his consciousness with spiritual impressions that stayed with him the whole day, especially injecting his japa and kirtan meditation with real feeling.

Hearing Akincana Krishna das describe what he was practicing brought to my memory something I read in the beginning of my Krishna consciousness in the Nectar of Devotion where Śrīla Prabhupāda described the mental culture of Krishna consciousness.[2] It was also akin to something I learned when taking a seminar by Bhurijana das on prayerful reading, which I have previously written about.[3] Coincidentally, it also ran parallel to a Catholic-inspired practice called Lectio Divina[4] described in Satsvarupa das Goswami’s recent journal. Lectio Divina is a practice of study that entails carefully reading a verse or section of a spiritual text and then mediating, praying and contemplating it in that order. I could see nothing that he was doing that is incongruous with the practice of Krishna consciousness. I decided to try it out myself.

I am always looking for ways to alter the consciousness to help me hear the holy name with more concentration. Altering the consciousness means leaving the plane of the chatter of the mind to become focused on the object of one’s meditation ideally up to a point where one is no longer cognizant of the external world, which is called trance or samādhi. It’s standard in meditational practice to first prepare oneself, especially one’s mind, for deeper devotional focus before even beginning to meditate. In this regard, many of us may remember Śrīla Prabhupāda’s strong direction to his disciples to “Sit properly!” on the tape of him chanting japa.

I decided to pick just the third verse of the Śikṣāṣṭakam and for thirty minutes very slowly repeat it over and over again, mostly in English but sometimes in Sanskrit:

“One should chant the holy name of the Lord in a humble state of mind, thinking oneself lower than the straw in the street, more tolerant than a tree, devoid of all sense of false prestige and ready to offer all respects to others. In such a state of mind one chant the holy name constantly.”

Here are my own realizations after adopting the practice, but first with a disclaimer: I am not recommending this process as “the process” because different people, according to their nature, may find different ways that effectively alter their consciousness and help them to focus. This is just my own realization experimenting with it.

As I mentioned above, it is common on the path of bhakti to prepare oneself in various ways to become more mindful before meditating on an object of one’s adoration. In deity worship, for example, before entering one’s worship there is bhūta-śuddhi, chanting certain prayers that reaffirm one’s spiritual identity in order to purify oneself of the bodily concept.[5] Similarly, I found that repeating the same prayers over and over again for a period of time before meditating on the holy name is a very effective practice to help one leave the chatter of the mind and enter the plane of meditational focus, the ground on which one can actually hear and relish the holy name.

Effectively chanting and hearing the holy name, which ultimately comes by the mercy of Krishna, also depends on how you live your life for the pleasure of Śrī Krishna. I found that by continually repeating the same inspirational verses or prayers for some time, one enters deeper and deeper into their meaning, which helps one to inject into their consciousness a spiritual vision that one carries throughout the day. Specifically, I found by meditating on this third verse from the Śikṣāṣṭakam, which outlines what it means to think and act as a humble devotee of God, I was better able throughout the day to see the world and my interactions with others through the lens of a humble servant of God.

Presently, I am at an Ayurvedic clinic for a pañcakarma detox. Last night I went for dinner at 6:30 PM, but I had an important call at 7:15 PM that I couldn’t reschedule. They are exceptionally respectful to me here because of my age and ashram (sannyāsa), and I wanted to be served quickly, but as others came to dinner before me, they were naturally attended to first. The server saw me sitting at the corner table, and a silly and fleeting thought entered my mind based on my upadhi (material status): “Why aren’t they serving me!” But immediately the third line of the Śikṣāṣṭakam, came into to mind: “devoid of all sense of false prestige.” I witnessed how powerfully that line from the Śikṣāṣṭakam checked my lower thoughts and grounded my consciousness spiritually. I sat and waited patiently.

I observed through this technique how in different interactions throughout the day the thoughts of “more tolerant than a tree” and “offer all respects to others” arose in my consciousness to keep me grounded in a humble state of mind, the only platform of consciousness where one can beg for God’s mercy and chant with devotion. It affirmed Akincana’s statement that meditating repeatedly on certain prayers “stains” one’s consciousness with devotional vision.

I am no longer chanting the third verse of the Śikṣāṣṭakam thirty minutes before I sit down to chant japa. However, I have certainly added the technique to my repertoire of ways to leave the boring and mindless world of chatter, where the holy name is at best an indistinct whisper, to enter a more meditative state, where the holy name clearly and joyfully appears within the mind. I like this practice, for it re-affirms a simple but very important message: One way or another we need to enter the world of prayer!

[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Passage_Meditation

[2] https://vaniquotes.org/wiki/This_is_the_mental_culture_of_Krsna_consciousness

[3] https://wavesofdevotion.com/2017/11/27/the-talking-book/

[4] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lectio_Divina

[5] It is recommended for bhūta-śuddhi, at least how I have been taught, to chant the following verse to purify oneself of bodily consciousness before beginning the worship of the deity: “I am not a brāhmaṇa, I am not a kṣatriya, I am not a vaiśya or a śūdra. Nor am I a brahmacārī, a householder, a vānaprastha or a sannyāsī. I identify myself only as the servant of the servant of the servant of the lotus feet of Lord Śrī Kṛṣṇa, the maintainer of the gopīs. He is like an ocean of nectar, and He is the cause of universal transcendental bliss. He is always existing with brilliance. ” (Cc. Madhya-līlā 13:80)

• Monday Morning Greetings
• Comments (0)

Dhanurdhara Swami January 2nd, 2023

I ended my year with a bang! My left hearing aid fell out and was lost somewhere near Govinda Kunda in Govardhana. I missed my flight to Cochin the next day. I had misread the time of departure of 04:55 as being in the afternoon. It was obviously a morning flight! When I arrived at the next destination after an arduous journey, my computer crashed. I am typing this on my phone. Well, I tried to remain positive. Everything was going great in Govardhana, so good that I guess I subtly started to think I was the controller, which can happen on those rare occasions, like this one, when things seem to have a semblance of falling into place. I chuckled a bit with all of this. Krishna just won’t let me think I am the controller and enjoyer! What do you do without a computer when all of your work for service is on it? Chant Hare Krishna! Not so bad. I like it.

To start the new year, I will do what I always do—wish happy birthday to Monday Morning Greetings, which was born eight years ago today, which means I have completed around 350 original articles. Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Saraswati Thakura published a newspaper on Krishna consciousness every day. When he was challenged how that was possible, he responded: “Even small towns sometimes have daily newspapers, so what is to write a newspaper every day about Krishna who has innumerable activities in innumerable places. One could write one every minute!”¹ Veda means “knowledge”. The Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam is a commentary on the Vedānta-sūtra, which codifies Vedic knowledge. It therefore gives a spiritual perspective on everything. If you look at the world through the eyes of shastra there is plenty to say.

Anyway, that’s not bad for typing on my phone without word processing. Is that this week’s Monday Morning Greeting? Sort of, but I want to give you more—A happy birthday Monday Morning Greeting from January 2, 2017.

Happy Birthday, Monday Morning Greetings!

January 2 , 2017

I began Monday Morning Greetings on this same day, the first Monday in January, exactly one year ago, and in this exact same place, my residence in Sridham Mayapur, the home of Jagadisa and Jugala. It began when Jugala expressed how much she liked my journals and then inquired why I hadn’t written any in over five years. I couldn’t think of a good reason. I immediately began this journal, now named Monday Morning Greetings, neatly on the first Monday of January last year.

I have now completed fifty-two Monday Morning Greetings that I will compile into a book. I have also decided to accept the personal challenge to continue this series for another year, beginning with this entry, Monday Morning Greetings 2017 #1.

Yes, it’s a challenge to write them. Most of the initial posts were ideas I had swimming around my head for some time. I thus questioned whether I would be able to come up with enough fresh ideas to continue throughout the year when that beginning source of inspiration ran dry.

There was also the challenge of keeping the writing to the standard of clarity and force that I was demanding before each journal was to be posted. Satsvarupa dasa Goswami once told me, and I don’t know if it was his own realization or he was quoting a famous writer or artist, that writing is “inspiration, perspiration, inspiration.”²

Unless you have something to say, some inspiration, there is really nothing to write, no matter how expert one is in word craft. And only with hard work, perspiration, will your original realization be manifest in a way in which others can experience your initial realization, or inspiration.

So, in some ways, continuing Monday Morning Greetings was daunting, but by remaining steady a dynamic process of writing unfolded, a process that gave me confidence that I would be able to mine realizations, confront the initial blank page, draft the initial scrambled thoughts on the subject, and eventually every week craft that inspiration in another form—the completed written work.

I now very much enjoy watching that process manifest from my initial realization into something that can inspire my audience. And just as a side note, I want to thank the many readers who have communicated that appreciation to me. It inspires me to write. Now I will share the process.

Inspiration

I generally don’t have a specific idea of what I will write until I finish the piece I am working on, but what I do have is a frame of reference to see God in the world based on shastra, a context that I can immediately activate to find new sources of inspiration. That framework not only helps me to more and more see the world based on what I have gleaned from the sacred texts; it also confirms those realizations in a way that brings them alive and inspires me to write about them.

For example, on the way to Mayapur I stayed the night in Delhi at the home of a very pious Indian family who, among other things, consciously dedicates themselves to karma yoga and a life according to the Gītā. I was very impressed. I saw in them certain Gītā principles personified in a way that deepened my own understanding of them and instilled in me a desire to share what I saw in a future post.

Writing thus forces me to regularly engage with shastra to keep spiritual thoughts in the front of my consciousness. It is the foundation of my process of writing.

Another important part of my process of gaining inspiration is lots of chanting, especially after I have completed a post. Chanting is for love of Godhead, but an important result is ceto-darpaṇa-mārjanaṁ, the mind becomes clear. It is only in that clarity of mind that I can see the world lucidly enough to become spiritually inspired by it.

Chanting is the basis of my life, but it is also now an essential element for my process of writing.

Perspiration

After the day begins, my time is mixed with other responsibilities and I find it difficult to focus on writing. I am also not the type of pure brāhmaṇa that can concentrate for long periods on intellectual work. In fact, in my youth my absorption was sports, and the only two books I ever remembering reading and liking was Animal Farm by George Orwell and The Mouse That Roared.³ Since writing Monday Morning Greetings, I thus have had no choice but to rise many hours before sunrise for at least thirty minutes to an hour for writing, where, in abject solitude, my concentration is very focused.

Thus rising early and writing daily in full focus is very much a part of my writing process, by which I can overcome the sometimes seemingly insurmountable obstacles to clarity and focus that a next paragraph often poses.

So that’s how Monday Morning Greetings was born, and hopefully I can continue this sevā for the pleasure of Srila Prabhupada and my audience.

And to my readers, I remain indebted to you. There are two types of service to a Vaishnava. One is physical service, and the other is hearing. In some ways, hearing is the best service because it engages the person one serves also in service, the service of kirtan, or glorifying the Lord.

So, again, thank you, and I wish all the best for you and your families from Sridham Mayapur at the beginning of the New Year and on the birthday of Monday Morning Greetings.

• Monday Morning Greetings
• Comments (0)

Dhanurdhara Swami December 26th, 2022

In my progressive study and teaching of śāstra, I am finishing up Rāmānanda-saṁvāda, the discussion between Śrī Rāmānanda Rāya and Śrī Caitanya—some very high stuff. In fact, after their discussion is concluded, Śrī Caitanya tells Rāmānanda Rāya to keep their discussion secret and to not talk about it anywhere.[1] And here I am talking about those discussions. What audacity! Yes, these teachings are very esoteric, but I think within the limits of my realization I can still extract something of relevance about the essence of Caitanya Vaiṣṇavism[2] for us practitioners to appreciate.

First, I’ll share the first of the four verses that I feel helps express the essence of Caitanya Vaiṣṇavism, a verse that Śrī Caitanya deemed the limit of perfection.[3] I will then briefly comment on the others. Read the verse below carefully, but just enough to get the gist of what is being talked about. Its full understanding comes only by the depth of our realization and not just the power of our intellect.

“O my Lord, You live in the forest of Govardhan Hill, and, like the king of elephants, You are expert in the art of conjugal love. O master of the universe, your heart and Śrīmatī Radharani’s heart are just like shellac and are now melted in spiritual perspiration. Therefore no one can no longer distinguish between you and Radharani. Now you have mixed your newly invoked affection, which is like vermillion, with your melted hearts, and for the benefit of the whole world You have painted both Your hearts red within this great palace of the universe.” (Cc. Madhya-līlā 8.195)

According to Caitanya Vaiṣṇavism, the ultimate reality is comprised of śaktimān, the possessor of energy (Śrī Krishna), and śakti, the energy of Krishna (Śrī Radha). The function of energy or śakti is to serve or please its source. As love is the essence of all pleasure, Śrī Radha, the complete energy or śakti of the Lord, is also the full manifestation of love. The height of that love is described here in this verse as the mutual absorption of Śrī Radha and Śrī Krishna intensified to the point where Their hearts melt in devotion, and They become totally lost in Their mutual love. The takeaway I get from this verse is that as the height of devotion is the complete absorption in Śrī Krishna, to achieve that goal we must practice absorbing ourselves in devotion by reserving a time of the day where we can fully concentrate our minds on Krishna to the best of our ability over a prolonged period of time, without interruption, and in a loving mood. And we should, year by year, gradually increase our commitment to our sadhana to move towards the attainment of our goal.

“Lord Śrī Krishna is the reservoir of all pleasure, and Śrīmatī Radharani is the personification of ecstatic love of Godhead. These two forms had combined as one in Śrī Caitanya Mahaprabhu. This being the case, Lord Śrī Caitanya revealed His real form to Rāmānanda Rāya.” (Cc. Madhya-līlā 8.282)

Śrī Caitanya then reveals to Rāmānanda Rāya that He is Śrī Krishna and Śrī Radha merged in the ecstasy of love, and thus the manifestation of the verse that Rāmānanda Rāya recited is the limit of perfection. The verse above (8.282) is therefore significant to Caitanya Vaiṣṇavism for it visibly demonstrates the exalted position of Śrī Caitanya and thus provides an inspiration for His worship for those wanting to attain the highest devotion.

“Śrī Caitanya Mahaprabhu confirmed, ‘All the truths about my pastimes and mellows (mora tattva rasa līlā) are within your knowledge. Therefore I have showed this form to you.’” (Cc. Madhya-līlā 8.286)

A basic principle in any spiritual path is that we advance by following those who are further on the path than us, and especially those who have attained perfection. In this verse, Śrī Caitanya specifically describes why Rāmānanda Rāya is worthy of such emulation. He had the proper understanding of all the truths (tattvas) of Caitanya Vaiṣṇavism as demonstrated in his erudite exchange with Śrī Caitanya. I think the relevant point for us here is that to advance to the next step in Caitanya Vaiṣṇavism, we always need further education in the tattvas (subjects) that are suitable for that next level in our attainment, which is why the tradition of Caitanya has a hierarchy of teachings with accordant books and a requisite qualification to study them. By no means does this mean one has to be a scholar. One just needs to faithfully hear the teachings appropriate to our level of advancement from a qualified devotee to properly understand the subject and to get our doubts cleared. If we don’t, we will inevitably filter what we hear through our misconceptions and misapply the teachings of Krishna consciousness.

“I have now converted My body and mind into the ecstasy of Śrīmatī Radharani; thus I am tasting My own personal sweetness in that form.” (Cc. Madhya-līlā 8.288)

Here Śrī Caitanya gives another verse that explains, from a slightly different angle, His position as the merging of the hearts of Śrī Radha and Krishna. The internal cause of Śrī Krishna appearing as Śrī Caitanya was to relish three experiences exclusive to His devotees: to enjoy His own beauty from the perspective of His devotee, to feel the love that the devotee experiences in relationship to Him, and to relish the happiness a devotee feels when he experiences Krishna’s love. In this verse, Krishna in the form of Śrī Caitanya explains how He attains that experience. He assumes the luster (body) and mind (devotion) of Śrī Radha so within the form of Śrī Caitanya He can experience the fullest love of His devotee and fulfill the internal reason for His descent as described above.

Reading this I had a thought that inspired me: “Isn’t Krishna tasting of His own personal sweetness in the form of Śrī Caitanya the same experience that He is giving to the world?” Śrī Rūpa Gosvāmī certainly seems to confirm this. In his drama Vidagdha-mādhava, he describes that what Śrī Caitanya is bestowing (samarpayitum) to the world by His causeless mercy (karuṇayā), which is the most elevated mellow of devotion service, the mellow of conjugal love (unnatojjvala-rasāṁ), is in fact the treasure of His own experience of devotion (sva-bhakti-śriyam).[4]

I have really enjoyed this study of Rāmānanda-saṁvāda. In summary, here is my takeaway from these four verses in Rāmānanda-saṁvāda that struck me as the essence of His teachings:

The same highest devotion, which is the love of Śrī Śrī Radha Krishna and personified in Śrī Caitanya, has been given by Śrī Caitanya to the world and can be attained by the concentrated practice of devotion guided by the study and application of the spiritual truths taught by Śrī Caitanya as found in the Śrī Caitanya-caritāmṛta.

[1] The Lord then requested Rāmānanda Rāya: “Keep all these talks secret. Please do not expose them anywhere and everywhere. Since my activities appear to be like those of a madman, people may take them light and laugh.” (Cc. Madhya-līlā 8.290)

[2] Caitanya Vaiṣṇavism means Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇavism. I used the term Caitanya Vaiṣṇavism because not all readers may understand what the more insider term Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇavism refers to.

[3] Cc. Madhya-līlā 8.196

[4] anarpita-carīṁ cirāt karuṇayāvatīrṇaḥ kalau
samarpayitum unnatojjvala-rasāṁ sva-bhakti-śriyam
hariḥ puraṭa-sundara-dyuti-kadamba-sandīpitaḥ
sadā hṛdaya-kandare sphuratu vaḥ śacī-nandanaḥ

“May that Lord who is known as the son of Śrīmatī Śacīdevī be transcendentally situated in the innermost core of your heart. Resplendent with the radiance of molten gold, He has descended in the Age of Kali by His causeless mercy to bestow what no incarnation has ever offered before: the most elevated mellow of devotional service, the mellow of conjugal love.” (Cc. Adi-līlā 1.4 from Vidagdha-mādhava by Śrīla Rūpa Gosvāmī)

• Monday Morning Greetings
• Comments (0)

Dhanurdhara Swami December 19th, 2022

There used to be a framed photograph on the wall on the temple side of Śrīla Prabhupāda’s house just to the right of his bed that I always found intriguing. It was an arranged portrait of Śrīla Prabhupāda standing in front of the Krishna-Balarama Mandir with most of his sannyāsis, a couple of dozen or more at the time. I seem to remember the picture had been there during Śrīla Prabhupāda’s time.[1] One day in the early eighties I walked into his room, and it was gone. I was a bit disturbed. Who has the right to take down a picture that was there during the life of Śrīla Prabhupāda? Then I realized why. If you study that picture carefully almost every one of those sannyāsis couldn’t maintain their vows of celibacy and left. Perhaps it was taken down out of personal embarrassment by one of those fallen sannyāsis who was still around, or maybe a loyal disciple just felt it didn’t look good for Śrīla Prabhupāda’s legacy. Even Śrīla Prabhupāda admitted that his experiment of giving young men sannyāsa did not fare well.

“My godbrothers criticized me for many things, but one thing they were right about, that I gave young men sannyāsa.” He then described in terms of a Bengali proverb his dilemma of needing to establish the sannyāsa āśrama but having a paucity of candidates who were qualified: “But what could I do? When there are no trees in the forest, the castor oil tree looks big.”[2]

Śrīla Prabhupāda needed to form an institution to carry out his mission and to maintain his legacy, which required a hierarchical corporate structure. For managing and guiding ISKCON he formed a governing body commission, more well-known by its acronym “GBC”. In order to help inspire the preaching mission and to maintain the spiritual standards of his society, following in the footsteps of his own guru maharaja, he also gave sannyāsa to his leading preachers, an order in society meant to serve as the spiritual authority of all other āśramas. And as he started his mission at the age of seventy, there was also an intense urgency in everything he did, including creating the organizational structure of his mission. What choice did he have but to appoint young and inexperienced men as its leaders?

But the more pressing question is about the present necessity of maintaining a sannyāsa āśrama, especially as its integrity seems more under question than ever before. Still, cases seem to arise almost yearly of a sannyāsi either not being able to follow his vows of celibacy or setting an inappropriate example of renunciation. When leaders falter, the discussions of a spiritual society tend to veer from the beauty of God to the people who misrepresent Him, and what follows is a significant social disturbance as predicted.[3] It is no wonder that the legitimacy of an āśrama of committed life-long celibates in today’s world is questioned.

Besides these obvious challenges to the viability of maintaining the purity of the sannyāsa order, and the devastating result when one of its members falters, there is another doubt that arises about its relevance today. The influence of the sannyāsa āśrama is predicated on the fact that the society it serves understands and respects its role. When Śrīla Prabhupāda was here that was not a problem. The Hare Krishna movement was directly under the jurisdiction of ISKCON through its local centers, so the order of sannyāsa was within a society where people were trained to honor it. In contrast today, the Hare Krishna community, at least in the first world,[4] is increasingly outside the jurisdiction of the temples, where sannyāsa, in and of itself, has little societal relevance or influence.[5] And as the devotee community and the greater community for outreach is composed mostly of people, who by their culture, practice little restraint in the social interaction between men and women, and a majority in fact seem to be women, one must question if a spiritually advanced married person[6] is better suited for the service of preaching and intimately guiding those people.

Kripamoya das, in his book The Guru and Disciple Book,[7] coined the phrase “saffron cardinals” to invoke some discussion concerning sannyāsis in ISKCON taking up the position of guru. It is not difficult to see why. As sannyāsis were the natural leaders of ISKCON during the time of Śrīla Prabhupāda, they naturally also took up the leading roles in managing his society, and when Śrīla Prabhupāda left the world, they also took up the service of initiating disciples. With those responsibilities naturally came a substantial number of followers and resources, which makes it challenging to lead a renounced life. Although it is understandable that when a sannyāsi assumes that level of responsibility he needs more material facility than a traditional sannyāsi, he still runs the risk of living more like a Prince of the Church,[8] than a simple monk who inspires renunciation. And that’s where the problem lies.

In varṇāśrama, the recommended social structure of India described in the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, the purpose of the sannyāsa āśrama was to inspire the populace in the direction of a simple and spiritual life by the power of their example as renunciates. If they fail to set that example, however, the spiritual growth of society will be stunted. Even worse, anyone who veers from their duty, and especially a sannyāsi, will impede their own spiritual development. Although a man who enters household life has allowance to enjoy material facility, he also had the austerity of a wife and family to become purified, but if a sannyāsi lives excessively, then what means do they have to be further cleansed of attachments?

My post here is not a definitive thesis of this subject. It is just meant as a part of the discussion of an obvious problem[9]—the serious disturbance in society suffered when those with the responsibility of setting the example of renunciation either falter or set a bad example. Because of the limited scope of my weekly posts, certain points must be briefly clarified about sannyāsa before I end this particular post.

I am not discounting that, whether renunciation is adopted in a formal manner or not, there is an obvious time in life where one needs to become completely detached from family life. My article also doesn’t discount that despite the risk of taking sannyāsa, it affords one a great facility to dedicate oneself to God unencumbered by social and economic restraints. I am also not minimizing the very substantial things accomplished in Śrīla Prabhupāda’s mission by those who have made a commitment to the renounced order of life, even the ones who have later faltered in their vows. Likewise, I can’t help but honor the honest renunciates who, at tremendous sacrifice, continue to push on in the mission of Śrī Caitanya today, even if some by dint of their service, nature, health, or age they may require a little more facility than is traditionally prescribed.[10] Finally, it is my opinion that those souls who are exemplars of a simple and renounced life are still a much-needed inspiration in society.

I was inspired by remembrance of a picture in Śrīla Prabhupāda’s room with his sannyāsa disciples to write something on the status of the sannyāsa āśrama today, especially as it is an issue that seems to be on people’s minds. I have far from exhausted the discussion on this subject. I have shared my thoughts, and I welcome yours.[11]

[1] I really can’t exactly remember the time frame of when I saw the picture. To the best of my memory, it was there during the time of Śrīla Prabhupāda, especially since they try to preserve the room as it was during his presence, and people don’t add pictures whimsically or take them down.

[2] https://vaniquotes.org/wiki/Castor_tree_and_oil

[3] śruti-smṛti-purāṇādi-
pañcarātra-vidhiṁ vinā
aikāntikī harer bhaktir
utpātāyaiva kalpate

“Devotional service of the Lord that ignores the authorized Vedic literatures like the Upaniṣads, Puranas and Nārada-pañcarātra is simply an unnecessary disturbance in society.” (Brs. 1.2.101, from Brahma-yāmala)

[4] I am well aware that I am writing mostly from my experience preaching in North America and that the relevance of sannyāsa in the today’s world may vary from country to country, or even from institution to institution.

[5] When we grew up in ISKCON we understood the traditional system to be that at age fifty a person takes sannyāsa. I think that is very much a thing of the past. I think many mature devotees have analyzed the situation for themselves and no longer see the benefit in terms of their practice of Krishna consciousness and their service as preachers to take sannyāsa, even if they are qualified in terms of renunciation, and that includes even some older and renounced brahmacārīs (celibate students).

[6] Older married couples can also be in the vānaprastha āśrama where they preach together but detached from family life. Another reason why staying married rather than taking sannyāsa may be preferred for the preacher is that people outside can identify more with people who are in a similar āśrama to themselves, and often the woman is a powerful preacher herself.

[7] https://www.amazon.com/Guru-Disciple-Book-Kripamoya-Das-ebook/dp/B08G9ZZ114/

[8] “Cardinals in the Catholic Church” also are referred to as “Prince of the Church” because of their almost royal status. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prince_of_the_Church

[9] In all fairness this has been an ongoing discussion in ISKCON, and sannyāsis are now carefully vetted, and especially young men are not given sannyāsa.

[10]I can’t locate the particular verse and purport as of this writing, but I had read a long time ago in one of Śrīla Prabhupāda’s purports where he comments that we can’t be sannyāsis like days of yore, but we should avoid social intercourse. I took it to mean we can’t perform the rigid austerities of the days of yore, but we must be vigilant to remain aloof in ordinary mundane social dealings. I can’t find that verse now. I think the bottom line now, however, and I am thinking for myself as I am writing this, that those who are sannyāsis need to be more vigilant and set a better example.

[11] I welcome hearing your thoughts on the matter if you have anything that can add to the discussion. You can write me here.

• Monday Morning Greetings
• Comments (0)