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Monday Morning Greetings 2023 #36 – Can God Be Blue?

September 4th, 2023

Due to facilitating the Bhakti Immersion in Colombia this week,I was unable to finish a Monday Morning Greeting. I am republishing this one in honor of Janmastami.

 

Can God Be Blue?

July 31, 2017

 

That’s simple. God can be anything He wants. If there were any other reason that God was blue, then He wouldn’t be God, because if a reason or cause external to one’s own will dictates one’s nature, then one would not be fully independent, which is one of the basic criteria for being Supreme. So, the only reason why God is blue, if He is indeed blue, is because it is part of His intrinsic nature. So, the real questions in relation to the nature of God’s color should first be whether there is a God, is He a person, and whether that person is Krishna?

 

Limitations of this article

 

This is a very deep subject. Libraries of books have been written about the nature of God. How can I possibly do justice to such a vast subject in such a short article? I think what is possible here is to give a solid outline supporting the reasonableness that there is God, who is a person, and whose name is Krishna.

 

Criteria for ascertaining whether God exists

 

The main criteria by which atheists have argued against the existence of God, especially in the twentieth century, and which greatly informs their reasoning to this day, is called the verification principle—a premise that states that no one should believe a proposition unless it can be proved to them rationally by logic or empirically by sense perception.

 

At first glance, this seems reasonable, but in reality this principle falls far short of how we actually reason about things in the world. There are many things that people reasonably accept as true that can’t be verified by such criteria (including, ironically, the verification principle itself). Even what we call proven scientific facts, such as the existence of protons or neutrons, are not personally verifiable by us, but are accepted on faith in the experts whom we trust on such matters.

 

Atheists themselves cannot abide by the verification principle when arguing against the existence of God, and certainly not when professing a theory for the cause of this world. So when you get down specifically to establishing the existence of God on the rational platform, the argument comes down to which theory of the world makes the best sense of it, not to absolute verification.

 

Arguments for the existence of God

 

It seems that the proposition that there is a God makes better sense of the world than the theory that everything happened randomly by chance. For example, if one wakes up in the winter and sees a snowman, by the evidence at hand it seems to make far more sense that a person made it than that snow randomly blowing around caused it, even though there may not be a way to absolutely verify it. In a similar way, the evidence of the complex and continued regularity of the world points far more to a transcendent creator than a haphazard coalescing of molecules by chance, by the simple fact that even if one of the constant variables at basis of creation swayed by one in a million, the world as we know it would not exist.

 

There are many other powerful and reasonable arguments for the existence of God. Here are a few of my favorites:

 

The only beings that have intrinsic moral values are subjects, beings who can undergo experience and who have values, concerns, and other mental states. If you deny that there is subjecthood at the foundations of the universe, you also deny that moral obligation is a fundamental feature of reality. In other words, if you believe human rights are a reality, it makes much more sense that God exists than that He doesn’t. If everything is just a product of matter coalescing by chance, it is ultimately inconsistent to believe in transcendent moral values, even such values as aversion to child abuse or racial genocide.

 

Lastly, it is more reasonable to believe that something comes from something than that something comes from nothing. This same simple logic is also presented succinctly in one of the prominent verses of the Chāndogya Upaniṣad:

 

“How can what is existent be born from what is non-existent? On the contrary, in the beginning this world was simply what is existent—one only without a second.” (Patrick Olivelle’s translation—Chapter 6, Book 2.)

 

I could go on and on, also discussing the reasons against God’s existence, but it is certainly reasonable and even compelling that God does exist.

 

Is God a person?

 

Srila Prabhupada addressed this point effectively and tersely: “God does not have the defect of impersonality.”

 

The brilliant answer by the respected Christian philosopher Alvin Plantinga to the question of whether God is person also sufficiently satisfies this inquiry. His response: “God is not less than a person.”

 

Ascribing form and personality to God doesn’t limit Him. Denying that He has attributes, including personality, does. It is certainly reasonable that if there is a God that He is not less than us, and thus also a person.

 

Is that person Krishna?

 

If God is a person, then the highest manifestation of that personhood, as with all personhood, is not majesty and power, but an all-loving personality. Srila Prabhupada uses a simple analogy to demonstrate this principle in relation to the Divine. Just as when a high-court judge checks his intimate self to appropriately reciprocate with those approaching him reverentially, but sheds his grandeur to reveal his full or intimate self at home, similarly the fullest manifestation of God is when He is home in Vrindavan as a cowherd, where the complete sweetness of personality can blossom as a child, friend, or lover unfettered by the demands of reverence, not when God displays His full power as the creator, Narayana. Therefore Sri Rupa Gosvami, at the beginning of the Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu, his seminal book on Krishna bhakti, introduces Krishna as akhila-rasāmṛta-mūrti, the fullest embodiment of the sweetness of all relationships.

 

Position covers personality, and thus it is reasonable that if God is a person, His fullest expression of being would not be shackled by a display of position and opulence.

 

Again the scope of these short Monday Morning Greetings limit a thorough exposition of this subject, but I coined a phrase that I think sums up the reasonability of God’s fullest personal manifestation being sweet and modest like Krishna:

 

“Krishna is God with His guard down.” Sounds reasonable to me.

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2023 #35 – Forced to Act Helplessly

August 28th, 2023

Agency means the ability to initiate and control actions and thoughts. Various schools of Indian thought have various views on this.[1] The Bhagavad-gītā seems to say that the soul has no agency:

 

“The spirit soul bewildered by the influence of false ego thinks himself the doer of activities that are in actuality carried out by the three modes of material nature.” (Bg. 3.27)

 

But how can that be? If we have no ability to initiate and control action, then what is the meaning of the law of karma? How can we then be held responsible for that which we have absolutely no ability to initiate?

 

This is a deep and debated philosophical concept in the Indian philosophical tradition far beyond the scope of my posts. I am therefore not going to pretend to have exhaustively argued my own position that there is agency in the soul, but it is obvious that that is what Śrīla Prabhupāda taught. We therefore understand a deeper meaning to the above verse—to the extent we are acting against our constitutional nature as devotees of God is the extent to which we have surrendered our agency and are forced to act helplessly by the modes of material nature. In other words, one can compromise one’s agency by how one associates with the modes of nature, but it is not that the soul has no agency.

 

I am going to do something in this Monday Morning Greetings that I have never done before: print another person’s article. The article was sent to me by a close friend during a personal discussion with him. I thought it was so relevant to what I wanted to write, and it was penned with such clarity and force that I decided to make an exception and share it here. The article was written by Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta’s disciple, Professor Sanyal, who was his English editor, but just as renowned for his devotion. Above, I wrote just a few words to introduce the concept of agency. I will say a few more words below to introduce the article and explain briefly its relevance to our discussion:

 

The article explains how although we cannot know God by our own initiative alone, we do have the agency to cultivate the will and humility to depend on His grace, to allow God to do the rest and act through us. I won’t go further. I will allow Professor Sanyal to elucidate the subject further. I think you will enjoy it.

 

“We must stop and reflect on the cause of our perpetual and utter failure. If we do so sincerely we make the real discovery with Kant that we cannot know the Truth by means of our present faculties. But we need not, therefore give up the quest as hopeless. We are to question again and then we shall get the true answer. That answer will be that the Absolute Truth for Whom our souls hanker is not a dead thing or relations of dead and limited things or thoughts but something Who is akin to ourselves. He is something that is living or self-conscious. He is also Spirit like our souls. The next question that will arise in our minds will be, why cannot we see Him? The answer will be, ‘Because He does not show Himself to us.’ If we ask again, ‘Why does He not appear to us?’ We shall be told that He is so because we do not seek for Him. We never seek for the Truth but always seek for the half-truth. That is the disease. The real Truth Himself comes to us the very instant we seek for Him. And we seek for Him only when and as soon as we really understand His nature. This is the vicious circle. At present we have no real idea of the Truth and so whenever we seek for anything that thing is necessary untruth. Then at last the conviction dawns on our understanding that the whole process hitherto pursued requires to be reversed and we begin to understand the mystic words of the scriptures. ‘Give up once for all the empiric quest for the Truth and wait for Him to take the initiative. You cannot go up to Him. When you try to go up to anything of your choice you go away from it. So you must submit to be enlightened. He has the power and the will of making Himself known to you.’

 

“At this stage one naturally asks, ‘Shall I then sit idly and do nothing?’ And now Truth answers in a definite manner, ‘No, let your mind and body do what appears to them to be their proper functions but you yourself stand apart and do not identify yourself with them, but wait for communications from Me. Rely wholly on Me and I shall guide you to the goal which is Myself.’ Thus faith is kindled in the doubting heart and we are in a position to profit by the instructions of the good preceptor whom Śrī Krsna sends to us the moment we really seek to be enlightened in perfect humility. Then we are also able to understand the words of the good preceptor as being identical with the words of the scriptures. Being now convinced of the real ability of the good preceptor to guide us on the path of the Absolute we take hold of his hand that is ever extended to us and submit to be led without hesitation and much questioning at first. As we gradually learn to walk in the path of service our vision slowly clears up and we see The Truth for ourselves. Then only we understand what it really is.”

 

 

Yes, we are forced to act helplessly, but if we are humble enough to muster the will and humility to beg for His Grace, then we do have the agency to change ourselves and even change the world. That was the teachings of Śrī Caitanya and what Śrīla Prabhupāda taught us.

 

 


[1] Free Will, Agency, and Selfhood in Indian Philosophy, Matthew Dasti and Edwin Bryant, Oxford University Press

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2023 #34 – Pain on the Path of Perfection and Other Thoughts on Chanting

August 21st, 2023

It rains every few days—mostly in the night—just enough to keep the weather pleasant and temperate. Govardhan has become so verdant you practically can’t even see the hill behind its foliage. Although there are plenty of pilgrims packing the path, it is not a loud-blaring-festival time of year and barely a soul comes to my door. I’m here alone. It keeps my stay sacred—an ideal time to chant the holy name!

 

Chanting—the lens or mirror of the mind is cleansed, and what do you see? You see and feel the real you, the devotee of Krishna. A mirror is also held up to the false ego. Sure, that enables you to distinguish it from the soul, but you also see that false-self parading around as if those temporary material designations of body, birth, and position are you. How embarrassing! More painful is looking back and realizing how much folly was done in the name of illusion—the mistakes made, and the harm caused. Should I continue to go deeper and obliterate the rest of my extraneous attachments and ultimately come to point of seeing my envy of God? Chanting—the lens or mirror of the mind is cleansed, and what do you see? The agony and ecstasy.

 

But there is no duality on the path of bhakti, because both the joys and struggles in devotional practice are born from devotion. If we can lament and feel the pain of separation from Śrī Krishna, like a child crying for his mother, as Śrīla Prabhupāda instructed, isn’t that pain of separation our highest devotion and thus joy at the same time?

 

Some Other Thoughts on Chanting

 

The holy name is a person, and people only reveal themselves in love. The first principle of love is to give attention to another. If our taste for chanting is waning, it’s because we haven’t given the holy name enough attention and He hasn’t revealed His presence and love, which is the taste of chanting. If we keep anyone a stranger by neglecting them, why would they reveal themselves, and how will we ever taste what that person may have to offer us in a relationship?

 

A sādhu visited and gave some advice: “If we keep the body absolutely still while chanting, even while sitting in a chair, and concentrate on pronouncing every syllable very carefully, in four round intervals at a time,[1] then with a little effort we will become absorbed in the name, and God will reveal Himself quickly, even to a neophyte. The principle is that, when sitting, the mind’s focus naturally flows to where the body is moving, and when we keep the body totally still the focus will more easily gravitate to where directed—in the case of chanting, the tongue and the ears. Sure, the mind may still wander, but without the body grabbing the consciousness, the focus on chanting will intensify.” The sādhu’s experience mirrored my own, which was reaffirming, but the real glory of Vrindavan is that at any moment a sādhu may walk in the door.

 

The Yoga Sutras say that when chanting a mantra we must dwell on its meaning. Makes sense. How can you be attentive to chanting a mantra if you remain oblivious to its meaning?

 

It is still very early morning here in Govardhan. I am laying back on my recliner chair, shirtless under a fan, enjoying the pleasant night breezes coming through my open door and window. My computer rests on my lap. I just finished this week’s Greetings, and now I will begin my chanting—and like all relationships, it’s a work in progress.

 

 


[1] I asked the sādhu why four rounds at a time. He said that that was usually the amount he experienced that most people could muster up the determination to focus. He said the break may be just for a moment to stretch, change position, or sip water, and then refocus the mind on chanting. It is not a hard and fast rule.

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2023 #33 – Who Wants to Be a Billionaire?

August 14th, 2023

Do you?

 

On Śrī Nārada’s quest to find the topmost recipient of Śrī Krishna’s mercy, he is eventually directed by Lord Indra to see Lord Brahmā, and for good reason. Brahmā’s quantity and quality of service to Śrī Krishna is unfathomable. He acts as the secondary creator of this universe, is the dispenser of karma and appoints, empowers, and supervises all the demigods in the service of the Lord. Most importantly, on his planet, he facilitates the highest level of ritual worship in the universe for the Supreme Lord in the form of the many armed Mahāpuruṣa who resides there. When Śrī Nārada hears of the glories of Lord Brahmā from Lord Indra, he enthusiastically rushes to Lord Brahmā’s planet to see for himself. He is more than impressed with what he sees and profusely glorifies Lord Brahmā. Lord Brahmā, as a devotee, however, neither wants, accepts, nor even believes such laurels and thus counters Indra’s claims that having such a powerful position, even in the Lord’s service, is a sign of Śrī Krishna’s mercy:

 

“By the power of Krishna’s maya, I am always deluded by various conceits. I think myself the controller, grandfather, and spiritual master of the universe. Proud of my birth from Krishna’s lotus navel, I think myself a great ascetic, His great worshipper […]” (Bṛhad-bhāgavatāmṛta 1.2.60)

 

He further disses the conception that his power and position is an example of Krishna’s mercy by expressing his fears:

 

“[…] I live in terror of the all-devouring end of time. All I want for myself is liberation.” (Br.Bhag. 1.2.62)

 

In his purport, Gopīparāṇadhana Dāsa sums up Lord Brahmā’s reaction:

 

“According to Brahmā, being the Lord of all creatures in the universe is not the sign of Krishna’s favor. On the contrary, it is the cause of great trouble. His worldly responsibilities fill him with false pride and expose him to all kinds of anxiety.”

 

Brahmā is wealthier and more powerful than Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, Bill Gates, and all the wealthy people of this world combined, and—it goes without saying—infinitely wiser and more devotional. But still, as Brahmā described above, the powerful all have one thing in common. To the extent that they became deluded by their various material designations based on their powerful position, and consequently increase their pride and identification with the temporary material body, is the degree to which they live in terror of losing it all at death. The Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam describes the mechanics of such illusion and suffering:

 

“Material life begins with turning away from God, which means turning away from our imperishable selves because what we are is in relationship to God, His Servant. God fulfills this desire not to be His devotee, by reflecting our consciousness on a particular body and simultaneously covering us with the illusion that we are the enjoyer and controller. Naturally, from this illusory and flickering designation arises duality and fear.”[1]

 

Don’t we see this play out every day with the abject misery of the rich and famous who become immersed in various conceits and thus live in confusion, anxiety, and fear? And don’t we see it every day in our lives to the extent that we want to enjoy and control rather than be God’s servant?

 

The Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam thus advises:

 

“Persons who are actually intelligent and philosophically inclined should endeavor only for that purposeful end[2] which is not obtainable even by wandering from the topmost planet [Brahmāloka] down to the lowest planet [Pātāla]. As far as happiness derived from sense enjoyment is concerned, it can be obtained automatically in course of time, just as in course of time we obtain miseries even though we do not desire them.” (Bhag. 1.5.18)

 

So, who wants to be a billionaire?

 

 


[1] I took liberty to substantially paraphrase SB 11.2.37. The original verse:  https://vedabase.io/en/library/sb/11/2/37/

 

[2] The purposeful end is going back to Godhead. Śrīla Prabhupāda’s purport explains why this, and not intense material endeavor, should be our goal: https://vedabase.io/en/library/sb/1/5/18/

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2023 #32 – Slay Me or Protect Me as You Wish

August 7th, 2023

I am enjoying Akincana Krishna das’s class, “Smaraṇaṁ: Meditations on Śaraṇāgati”, one of the four main song books that the great Vaiṣṇava ācārya Śrīla Bhaktivinoda composed. Akincana teaches the songs of “Śaraṇāgati” for memorization and prayer.[1] Included in the class are simple classical mnemonic devices that, in my experience, enable one to memorize the songs in a fraction of what it would normally take, and techniques for deeply meditating on them. Besides the memorization and prayer, what intrigues me most in studying “Śaraṇāgati” is the way in which Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura, in verse after verse, uncompromisingly presents the concept of Śaraṇāgati (surrender), such as is expressed in today’s title, which is from the third verse from last week’s song:

 

“Slay me or protect me as You wish, You are the master of Your eternal servant.

 

What I was wondering, which will be the substance of today’s discussion, is how people coming to the path of bhakti today, who are generally influenced in their upbringing with a post-modern mind, which tends to psychologically react negatively to authority, what to speak of the idea that there is a truth that we must fully acquiesce or surrender to, can properly understand this concept of Śaraṇāgati. Śaraṇāgati also has all the trappings, at least externally, of a codependent relationship, the mood to totally reject one’s own needs and to plan one’s entire life around pleasing another.[2] What I want to try to do in this post is to, in a simple and brief way, explain the concept of Śaraṇāgati, and in doing so save it, so to speak, from the filter of the post-modern mind and any sense that the concept of surrender is akin to a psychological aberration such as codependence. Here’s my attempt.

 

I think the key to freeing Śaraṇāgati from such burdensome thoughts is to understand the feelings of surrender as the symptom and cause of love, which is a more universally accepted and appreciated principle than surrender. One way to define love is finding your happiness in the happiness of another without any motive or expectation of return. Śrīla Prabhupāda taught us that the best example of this in the material world is a mother’s love for her child. Isn’t such love where the mother selflessly gears her life around the needs of her child one of the most beautiful things in this world to see, what to speak of to have in one’s life? The point is when there is true love, whether it is in servitude, friendship, parental, or conjugal love, there is sacrifice that invokes beautiful and laudable feelings of selflessness and surrender.

 

My argument here is that when we accept love as the highest principle in this world, and when a symptom of that love is selfless surrender, then why should we deny such love and the symptoms of love in relation to its ultimate source, the realm of the divine? The Taittirīya Upaniṣad thus declares, “raso vai saḥ,” that the divine is the highest exchange of love, which means that in perfection we are meant to share in the highest love, which is accompanied by the highest sentiments of totally giving oneself to another—the perfect other, the Supreme Lord, one who can perfectly reciprocate our love. I am thus looking forward to Akincana’s next class where again we will study, meditate, and aspire for the sentiments of Śaraṇāgati:

 

“While sitting up or lying down, I will constantly meditate on your lotus feet. Whenever you call, I will immediately run to you and dance in rapture.” (bosiyā śuiyā, tomāra caraṇa)

(Goptṛtve-Varaṇa – song 3, verse 4)

 

 


[1] Those interested in Akincana Krishna’s next online seminar on “Śaraṇāgati” may contact him at [email protected].

[2] There is a difference between codependence and pure love, especially love of God. In pure love one is fully focused on the object of one’s love for their pleasure, whereas in codependence one’s life is focused on the object of adoration, but mixed with motive born of one’s own attachments and fears.

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2023 #31 – What I Learned from the Sādhus Who Never Stop Walking

July 31st, 2023

Last week I wrote about the sādhus who never stop walking. Last Tuesday I again walked halfway around Govardhan starting at 5:00 PM. With the heat and humidity, I sweated so much that when I returned from parikrama, although I drank almost a liter of water before bed, I didn’t get up once all night. I was dehydrated and exhausted. Yet these elderly, raggedy, worn old men walk two or three times a day around the whole hill, even now in the hot, humid rainy season! Are they over doing it? In what mode is their austerity? Could it possibly be ignorance?

 

“And those penances and austerities which are performed foolishly by means of obstinate self-torture, or to destroy or injure others, are said to be in the mode of ignorance.” (Bg. 17.19)

 

Of course, they mean no harm to others, but doesn’t it seem almost a kind of self-torture? Is it great devotion or over endeavor? Before having this discussion, let us introduce a short outline (my own) describing what is austerity, especially in the line of devotion.

 

The seven principles of tapasya

 

  1. We are not the body, but we identify with and experience the pains and pleasures of the body due to the false ego, the desire to be the enjoyer and controller.
  2. The general purpose of life is mokṣa (liberation), to become free from this false identification so we can live in the true self, the soul.
  3. By extraneous sensual indulgence, one’s absorption in and identification with the body increases, which naturally exacerbates the pains and pleasures of the body.
  4. As this is a temporary world full of suffering and “a pinch of suffering is felt more than a ton of pleasure”,[1] sensual indulgence meant for pleasure that increases our bodily identification almost counterintuitively increases our suffering exponentially.
  5. In contrast, when one undergoes tapasya, voluntary discomfort for a spiritual objective,[2] one naturally abstracts oneself from absorption in the body and consequently minimizes suffering.
  6. Vaiṣṇavas do not perform austerity for austerity’s sake, as it negates the heart and emotions that are required for cultivating and experiencing devotion. However, as some tapasya is still necessary for a Vaiṣṇava to help them transcend the material condition and to serve Śrī Krishna with greater focus, a Vaiṣṇava willingly accepts the bodily and mental inconveniences that arise naturally during a simple and fully dedicated devotional life.
  7. A simple definition of tapasya (for Vaiṣṇavas): “Despite the irrational impulses of the mind and body, one engages fully in one’s devotional service.”[3]

 

Now back to our walking Vaiṣṇava sādhus. How do we characterize their tapasya? Of course, according to the Bhagavad-gītā, austerity can be mixed with passion if done for some reward, or even done in ignorance if done harshly and with ill motive. It’s hard for me, however, to envision some material benefit for what they are doing. This is what I do know:

 

For a Vaiṣṇava, circumambulation of the Deity is one of the sixty-four items of devotional service, especially when chanting God’s names constantly. Parikrama forces one physically and even mentally to place God or Śrī Girirāja in the center of one’s existence and to move to the periphery. The very nature of this activity thus puts one in a good place to beg Śrī Krishna for mercy and is therefore devotional and humbling at its core.

 

India is also tapa bhūmi, the land of tapasya. Despite the onslaught of materialism in the last century, there are still, to this day, true tapasvīs who have been born here who have zero interest in this world, like these sādhus. It seems so, otherwise, why would they spend their whole life walking around a sacred hill chanting God’s name? And it is certainly not a fruitive endeavor, for as soon as they meet their vow for the day, they must begin anew the following day!

 

If indeed, by one’s karma, one is inclined for renunciation, why not use it in the service of Krishna by throwing oneself fully into service in that way without any other material concern? Such renunciation in service to Krishna is certainly in our line. Look at the instructions of Śrī Caitanya to Śrī Raghunātha about renunciation and how pleased the Lord was that he dedicated himself to God to such an extent that he practically gave up eating and sleeping. Are not the walking sādhus just following in his footsteps? But what does this have to do with us?

 

Yes, there are rare souls who, by dint of their spiritual evolution, are qualified to completely renounce the world for the purpose of dedicating themselves to Śrī Krishna. Although such a life is noteworthy, it is not necessary on the path of devotion, for the essence of bhakti is dedication and not renunciation. In other words, devotion is giving oneself fully to Krishna, not physically renouncing the world. In the name of devotion, however, we cannot negate the value of tapasya, for it helps us transcend the bodily concept of life, which facilitates a fuller absorption in Krishna. We should therefore be careful not to fall prey to a Western complex (as opposed to simple) lifestyle that is geared to avoiding bodily discomfort or tapasya at any cost. Nor should we shy away from the challenges and inconveniences that may come in dedicated devotional service[4] or the special opportunities to perform tapasya offered in our lineage to increase our devotion, such as fasting on days like Ekādaśī.

 

Today on parikrama I passed a group of about ten of the walking sādhus. It seems they stop at a particular tea stall for a few minutes to sit and drink water. I stopped and watched them carefully. One saw me and gracefully put his left hand over his heart, slowly bowing his head ever so slightly to offer respects. I saw another gently smile in loving exchange with another. Although they were tired, I could feel their bhava, their mood of devotion. I understood that what was externally a chore, was certainly a joy for them, so much so, that in another seven or eight hours they would be in the exact same place on their second time around! I humbly bow to the sādhus who never stop walking.

 

Conclusion: We cannot imitate the walking sādhus, but we should certainly follow in their footsteps:

 

“Lord Ṛṣabhadeva told His sons: My dear boys, of all the living entities who have accepted material bodies in this world, one who has been awarded this human form should not work hard day and night simply for sense gratification, which is available even for dogs and hogs that eat stool. One should engage in penance and austerity to attain the divine position of devotional service. By such activity, one’s heart is purified, and when one attains this position, he attains eternal, blissful life, which is transcendental to material happiness and which continues forever.” (Bhag. 5.5.1)

 

 


[1] Not sure where I read this quote.

[2] It is important to understand that hardship that is forced upon one may not necessarily detach oneself from the body. Tapasya is voluntary, so it has spiritual objective, and it is this internal objective along with the self-imposed bodily inconvenience that is purifying.

[3] This definition is from the BBT translation of the 10th Canto of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam. I cannot find the reference off hand, but it is from a commentary after the Bhaktivedanta Purports that struck me when I read it many years ago.

[4] I am not minimizing the great tapasya that naturally comes from those who dedicate themselves to spreading the mission of Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu and strictly follow the bhakti sādhana that they were given.

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2023 #30 – Just Write

July 24th, 2023

I believe that’s the title of a book by Satsvarūpa dāsa Goswami aptly describing its contents—free writing—a process of writing where, without a specific preconceived idea of a subject to write about, one just lets one’s pen fly. It’s been so busy a week, so let me “just write”.

 

A disciple proudly shared with me that they have been my student since their teens, more than twenty-five years ago. I thought, “But are you chanting your rounds?” I thought of the story of the boatman, who rowed all night, but forgot to pull up the anchor and despite all that effort remained in the same place. Pulling up the anchor is a metaphor for letting go of our extraneous attachments and taking full shelter of the will of Śrī Guru and Śrī Krishna. If you don’t, you stay in the same place no matter how long you have been a devotee. I challenged myself. “Fifty years and how far have you advanced?” Time to let go, fully surrender and, through attachment for the holy name, enter the realm of real devotion. That’s why I am here.

 

Well, that’s it for “just write”. What happened?  A “Greetings” theme just came a few hours ago, so when I sat down again this afternoon for another writing session, rather than “just write” I felt compelled to carefully write about what just happened and share my realization about it.

 

I was walking out from my ashram to the parikrama path to go visit a friend down the road for lunch. When I reached the parikrama road, I saw a group of very worn, bare-chested sādhus wearing just their simple white loin cloth limping past. One very old sādhu, back bent forward, had his left arm on a friend’s shoulder in front him to brace his rickety knees from the shock every time one of his feet hit the pavement. Another was using a crutch-like cane, the kind supported by one’s whole forearm. All of them had layer after layer of dirty white cloth wrapped around their feet to ease the pain of their worn-down raw feet repeatedly hitting the ground. It was painful to watch. I had heard of these devotees before. They are here under the midday sun because they practically never stop walking, going around twice, some even three times a day! A friend of mine once asked one of them why they perform such arduous austerities. No matter how many times he asked, and no matter in whatever way he phrased the question, the answer was same: “I’m so sinful! I’m so sinful!” My friend carefully listened to the old sādhu’s voice. He had no doubt it was the crying of the soul tired of being engaged by bodily demands and calling for Krishna in separation.

 

The next morning while chanting I thought of that sādhu. I felt I could do so much more in my devotional practices if, like that sādhu, I also got more tired of my bodily demands and regretted more deeply my separation from Krishna. I self-reflected at least enough to sincerely call out in my mind, “I’m so sinful” and continued chanting. The mood was right, contrition and begging for the holy name.

 

I also took the sādhu’s example of devotional punishment.[1] I went around Govardhan yesterday during the day when I was free. It was humid. It was tough. It was blissful. I was inspired:

 

tapo divyaṁ putrakā yena sattvaṁ

śuddhyed yasmād brahma-saukhyaṁ tv anantam

 

“One should engage in penance and austerity to attain the divine position of devotional service. By such activity, one’s heart is purified, and when one attains this position, he attains eternal, blissful life, which is transcendental to material happiness and which continues forever.” (Bhag. 5.1.1)[2]

 

Just write. A nice exercise. I pray it worked.

 


[1] One doesn’t perform austerities to torture the body. Next week, I think I will analyze the concept of tapasya to explain why the austerities of the walking sādhus of Govardhan are enlightening and not in ignorance as described in the Bhagavad-gītā:

“And those penances and austerities which are performed foolishly by means of obstinate self-torture, or to destroy or injure others, are said to be in the mode of ignorance.” (17.19)

[2] If you have time, I suggest you read Śrīla Prabhupāda’s purport on the above verse: https://vedabase.io/en/library/sb/5/5/1/

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2023 #29 – The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men and Other Thoughts

July 17th, 2023

The best laid plans of mice and men[1]

 

I am writing this from the Five Towns Inn in Lawrence, Long Island, New York. My flight today to India to observe Puruṣottama Māsa[2] in Govardhana was cancelled. I will try again tomorrow. My trip naturally started with slight anxiety as it always does. That is how my mind works when having to travel by plane, especially a long trip. It’s a saṁskāra, an impression, probably from a previous life, that, for no good reason, makes me react somewhat worrisomely when travelling. As soon as I get in the car to the airport, I begin to anxiously pat my different pockets to see if I forgot my wallet, passport, or something else. I then envision the horror of not finding a space for my carry-on, and other silly thoughts. Anyway, this time I resolved to be mindful—that I am not the controller, that what happens is Krishna’s will, and therefore I should be peaceful in any situation in life, what to speak of travelling. It kind of worked, at least within the limits of my realization. I became mindful to catch my mind before it followed its whims. Instead, I turned towards my faith to see every twist of fate, no matter what that may be, as just a different opportunity for service. Off now to the airport for the second time to catch a flight to Śrī Vrindavan, if Śrī Krishna so desires.

 

Praise and the death of my devotion

 

It wasn’t easy to finish my post last week as I was leading the upstate Bhakti Immersion retreat last weekend. As I had to finish writing it between breaks, when my last post, “Praise and the Death of Devotion”, was done, I wasn’t sure of its quality. Therefore, I read it to my friend Jayanta das during dinner for feedback, as he is educated, literary, and frank. “That was incredible. It’s one of the best…” I heard enough to know what he was saying was about, but because of the noise in the dining room, I didn’t hear him fully. I instinctively leaned forward and perked my ears to hear more. I looked up, Jayanta was chuckling. Rascal! He caught me. He did, however, honestly like the post.

 

I like Mormons

 

Despite the objective of the modern media to dis anything religious, from the show Unorthodox[3] to the Broadway musical The Book of Mormon,[4] I am usually impressed when I meet the young religious in the post-modern age.[5] In the JFK lounge waiting for my flight, a young, handsome, clean-cut young man came up to me politely: “Excuse me sir, can I ask you some questions? I am going to India with my friend, and we are inquisitive about your religion.” He went on to explain that he was a Mormon, had just came back from his two-year mission to Brazil, attended the Holī festival at Spanish Fork ISKCON, and was curious to learn more about the world. We chatted. I was impressed with him. He was highly moral, emotionally balanced, humble, and innocent, but with a strong mind, which is the ability to control and express emotions. His friend was a beautiful young lady, his age, whom I later met. When I asked if she was his girlfriend, he said matter of factly, “No, just a friend.” His voice was earnest. Now that’s impressive, traveling with a beautiful lady alone and not melting in passion. Who are these people? The main take away from meeting Jacob and Reagan was that growing up with an intact family that instills values within a greater community that supports those values produces evolved souls, especially compared to the general youth in America, who seem so confused about their mission in life and the values they should emulate. Jacob and Reagan will visit me in Vrindavan. They asked me to teach them meditation. I will keep you posted.

 

Destiny is the language of God

 

Arrived in Vrindavan for five weeks. I will return again shortly in mid-September. It’s humid now, and anyone I know that assists or befriends me is gone. I thought for a second, “What the hell am I doing here now!” My trip, however, was not whimsical. I thought deeply about it and consulted my mentors, and destiny is also the language or indication of God’s will. God talks or instructs one by how one’s life unfolds? I wake up early, and except for chanting and some writing I have no external obligations during the day. That certainly was not my plan, but it’s Krishna’s, so I am grateful. My service seems to be mostly sedentary sādhu life, so why not Vrindavan? I love it here—Vrindavan in the rainy season—bare chested, barefooted, pleasant cold showers, and a solitary life dedicated to begging the holy name for service and for more direction for the next phase of my life.

 

SDG (Satsvarūpa dāsa Goswami) July Festival

 

Every year I try to go to this simple and sweet festival honoring Śrīla Satsvarūpa Mahārāja in July. He is nearing eight-four years of age, so his age and physical condition affords him the energy to sit for only a half hour of kirtan followed by another half hour reading from some of his new books. Even though he was not lecturing, but reading, the voice in his writing is strong and engaging. He read from his book about making the best use of a bad bargain. The bad bargain being the old age and disease that plague him, and the best use of it is his ability to still serve, mostly the opportunity to write, despite that. Afterwards, I was able to go to where he was sitting just to exchange some pleasantries and honor him. He told me he reads Monday Morning Greetings every week and that it was a mix of high philosophy and my personal life. I sensed he liked the second objective better as it’s more his style of writing. Somehow, this week’s post is just a simple recount of my travels and consequent arrival in the Dhāma. Nothing exceptionally deep here, so let me end with some food for thought that came to me today. It’s still quite simple:

 

For the six months I usually reside here, there a huge influx of international pilgrims that I try to serve. I love it, but with that life comes all my upādhis, material designations—guru, preacher, leader, and so on. Now here I am, just another anonymous resident of Vraja. It’s a sweet and simple life. I have even been able to rest my active mind and fertile brain to just bask in the simplicity and sweetness of Vraja, called mādhurya. “Enjoy it when it lasts,” I tell myself, because I am sure, by the grace of Śrī Śrī Guru and Gauranga, challenges will be thrown my way that will require a depth of realization to digest. They may even provide some good stuff to write about, but for now I just hope you have enjoyed “The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men and Other Thoughts”, the more personal and simple style of my writing.

 

Stayed tuned. See you next week from Govardhana!

 


[1] Of Mice and Men is a book by the famous American author John Steinbeck. The title of the book is from Scottish poet, Robert Burns’ poem “To a Mouse” — “The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men / Gang aft agley”, translated into English, “The best laid plans of mice and men / Often go awry”. This also serves as one of the themes of the book: destiny being superior to our will.

[2] https://iskcondesiretree.com/page/Purusottama-adhika-masa

[3] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Unorthodox_(miniseries)

[4] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Book_of_Mormon_(musical)

[5] Every religion has its faults and scandals. Those bad parts can be highlighted by the media to create a narrative. I often find a dichotomy between the media narrative and what I’ve found when meeting people of faith personally. I found this documentary quite interesting in that regard: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jUDFpt6lcew

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2023 #28 – Accepting Praise and the Death of Devotion

July 10th, 2023

A devotee certainly doesn’t embrace praise. Rather, they resist it.[1]

 

Jaya! Jaya!”, meaning “victory”, is what subordinates chant to praise someone they revere. If one eagerly accepts that praise and doesn’t dismiss it in some way, at least internally, their devotional spirit will be dampened. Why? Casually accepting praise puts one in the center, which feeds one’s core material nature to enjoy, control, and to feel superior, which is antithetical to the mood of bhakti or devotion. In other words, devotion is the mood of serving the center, and therefore one who has devotion shuns praise that tends to move one towards the center and away from devotion.

 

It’s not that a devotee deflecting praise is just doing it from a theoretical platform of “it is not good to accept praise”. It is genuinely the way a true devotee feels.

 

A devotee who has the sincerity to look inward sees clearly that whatever they have of worth, including their talents and intelligence, is coming by the grace of God and can be withdrawn in a second. How then can a devotee seriously embrace praise for their status or accomplishments?

 

A devotee also doesn’t easily accept praise because an awareness of God naturally illuminates the true nature of the soul as simply one among countless jivas who are mere sparks of God’s splendor. How can a person with such realization possibly feel entitled to glorification independent of guru and Krishna?

 

But there is something more:

 

A devotee not only doesn’t feel worthy of praise, but they also have no taste for it. Only the humble feel affection or love, for whatever is received by a proud person is accepted as something deserved, not something coming out of mercy or kindness. As the humble devotee can feel God’s affection and naturally experiences feelings of devotion as a result, which is God’s pleasure potency, why would they seek praise to inflate their ego and dampen such joy?

 

One of the best ways to understand the philosophy of devotion, however, is through the devotees who exemplify it. A few examples:

 

Śrīla Prabhupāda had just returned from a preaching program where he had to speak strongly against another speaker who not only misrepresented the philosophy, but spoke offensively about Krishna as well. Śrīla Prabhupāda was fatigued from a long day of service, so when he returned home, he sat cross legged on the floor and had one of his servants massage his shoulders. The servant was proud of how his spiritual master quieted this cheat and suddenly had a vision according to his own nature. He envisioned Śrīla Prabhupāda sitting on a stool in the corner of a boxing ring like the heavyweight champion after thrashing an opponent. As he continued to massage Śrīla Prabhupāda’s shoulders in this mood, he blurted out, “Śrīla Prabhupāda, you are the greatest!” Śrīla Prabhupāda became silent for a moment and then soberly turned to his servant: “No, I am just a devotee!”

 

Forty years ago, in a sparsely attended maṅgala-ārati in the Krishna Balarama Mandir, someone pointed to Śrīla Prabhupāda’s vyāsāsana where a sādhu with folded hands was deeply immersed in prayer. That sādhu was soon recognized as the great saint Śrīla Akincana Krishna das Bābājī. As soon as Bābājī Mahārāja realized that he was being noticed in adulation, he immediately scuttled off.

 

In 1992 I wanted to do an article on the famous and very beautiful sādhu who was ordered by his guru to paint the name of Radha Krishna on every tree and wall in Vrindavan. I humbly asked if I could take his picture. “No. I am not in this for name and fame!” he forcefully replied.

 

Let us all remember the instructions of Śrīla Raghunātha dāsa Gosvāmī to his mind:

 

“O mind! How can the highest and purest prema ever touch my heart while the desire for prestige dances there like a shameless dog-eating, outcaste woman? You must constantly serve those unparalleled generals of the army of the Lord who are most dear to Him. They can quickly expel that woman and allow prema to enter the heart.” (Manaḥ-śikṣā 7)

 

 


[1] In Vedic culture one sometimes must take a position of spiritual leadership and accept adulation from their students, which is the duty of a students. Even if one must accept that adulation externally, they must be internally very vigilant to accept it only on behalf of and in a mood of service to their own spiritual master.

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2023 #27 – Hellfire, Brimstone, and Atlantic City

July 3rd, 2023

A great spot for a parade—a wide boardwalk filled with throngs of people enamored by Bally’s, Harrah’s, and at least a dozen other impressive edifices of cheat, with the ocean to its side to boot. As I walk down the Atlantic City boardwalk to meet the Ratha-yātrā, I hear a city public service announcement blaring that struck me as a bit strange:

 

“Anyone who has a gambling problem please call 1-800-GAMBLER.” I chuckle, “The whole city is a gambling problem. Just shut the whole damn thing down!”

 

As I continue to walk to greet Lord Jagannath, while surveying the mecca of New Jersey “fun”, another thought came to mind: “This is their Vrindavan—their concept of heaven.” In other words, as devotees of Sri Krishna see Vrindavan as the abode of joy, people here wander around this fantasy world as their ultimate destination of happiness, and probably even envision heaven as casinos and boardwalks.

 

The greatest tragedy is having the wrong faith or goal, one that will not only not bear true happiness but will ultimately lead to the opposite, which is more suffering. How is that? Happiness is a matter of consciousness, not just the things we surround ourselves with, and when those things are frivolous or sinful, a false and temporary identity is fostered, which means duality and fear. Win or lose here on the boardwalk, there is only degradation of consciousness and more suffering.

 

The next day, I gave a short class to our congregation here in New Jersey as Jayadvaita Swami, our special guest, would speak at length after me. Atlantic City was still on my mind, and while I usually speak on the more positive aspects of Krishna consciousness, such as the bliss of Vrindavan-līlā, my class spontaneously turned to hellfire and brimstone.[1]

 

“Suffering is when the world moves against our desires, and enjoyment is when the world moves according to our desires. To be the enjoyer, not sufferer, on the material platform you must be the controller. We are not, and therefore, we cannot be the enjoyer. Material attachment, therefore, ultimately means suffering. Honestly, if I lost my cell phone today, I would suffer. If something like that would disturb you, imagine what it feels like losing everything at once. That’s called death, and it’s coming soon. If we don’t cultivate non-attachment, and realize our eternal nature as Krishna’s servant, how much suffering awaits us!” I went on and on. Whew!

 

Jayadvaita Swami spoke next. If you know the Mahārāja, he needs no prompting to talk about renunciation. He takes his sannyāsa dharma seriously and is quite comfortable representing his ashram by living and strongly preaching non-attachment. He spoke very forcefully about the nature of material life and the need to cultivate non-attachment. He warned the audience not to become “dharmic karmīs”, a term he seemed to coin, having a veneer of religiosity, but at heart making one’s prime goal expanding one’s material existence.

 

I surveyed and gauged the audience’s reaction, as people, even devotees, can’t always swallow the unfiltered truth that this temporary world is simply suffering. Also, there is a history in ISKCON of the misapplied preaching of renunciation that mistakenly caused some to prematurely renounce family life, which may make people apprehensive to hear about renunciation in general. Most of the audience were past their forties and were practicing Krishna consciousness to one degree or another, but there were some newer and well-educated people as well. His lecture, however, was very well received, and that was the feedback I got later. I surmised that the people attending were honest and already had enough of material life to realize that that Swami’s uncompromising, but well-reasoned and clear message, could not be easily denied.

 

Of course, there is a philosophy of attachment that people should take what they need to be peaceful for the ultimate goal of self-actualization. I speak about that often, but hearing Mahārāja speak and seeing the positive response of the audience, I realized how important it is that we also hear a healthy exposé of the world we live in. I read something this morning in the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam that shows that, like Mahārāja, the Bhāgavatam also cuts to the chase in this regard. It’s too good not to share:

 

“Death is not at all pleasing, and since everyone is exactly like a condemned man being led to the place of execution, what possible happiness can people derive from material objects or the gratification they provide?” (Bhag. 11.10.20)

 

And that’s my hellfire, brimstone, and Atlantic City!

 

 


[1] Idiom to describe a preacher’s intense speech when he focuses on the misery awaiting one in hell.

 

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