Goose Fable

A Goose Fable
a story in honor of my spiritual teacher, Radhanath Swami 

Once upon a time there was a young gosling. She would waddle around on the ground with her fellow geese, and there were even elder geese who waddled everywhere they needed to go, from pond, to forest, to field. But every so often, this little gosling would gaze up into the clear blue sky and see high, high above beautiful V’s of birds, stretching out into the sky like fluttering ribbons.

“What kind of birds are those?” she asked one day to an elder goose.

 “Geese,” he replied gruffly. 

“Geese?!” she exclaimed. “Like me? Like us?”

“Do not worry,” he said. “You have everything you need here on the ground. There’s no need to gallivant off into the sky like that. Those geese are eccentric.”

But the more the little gosling watched those birds fly by, the desire blossomed in her heart that she also wanted to fly. She felt that there was more to life than waddling around on the ground. After all, she had wings.

She began to feel the determination that surely the goose at the very tip of the V formation in the sky could teach her how to fly. So one day she stepped out into the wilderness to search for this V-leader.

At last, she came upon a great enclave of geese and was lead to a little clearing by the river, with some rushes laid out on the ground. When the little gosling saw the great V-leader goose, her heart trembled but she spoke out bravely, “May I be your student? Would you teach me how to fly? I know that my destiny must be beyond the ground, but I’ve only ever been told that everything I need is on the ground. I want to fly free, experience something beyond my little pond and forest.”

The V-leader goose observed her carefully. His golden-brown eyes seemed to twinkle and see straight through to her heart. “You were meant to fly, little one. I will teach you,” he intoned.

“Truly?”

“Yes!” He unfurled his great white and dark brown wings. “Let us begin!” Even though the great V-leader goose was responsible for an entire gaggle of geese, he would still take time out of his busy day to teach her the principles of flight and language of sacred honking. “Honk when you are in distress so that other geese may hear you and come for you. Also, We honk when we fly together, to keep our spirits up and unite our hearts,”

Finally, the day came when, with the goose leader and the entire gaggle of geese there as witness, the little gosling leaped off of a cliff. She fumbled and tumbled through the air. She honked and suddenly her wing caught on a warm updraft of air. She honked again and her wings righted and she rose high, high, high, up past where the great V-leader goose and the entire gaggle watched upon the cliff’s edge. Everyone began to honk wildly. She rose even higher and the little gosling felt as though she was being held in the arms of someone much, much greater than herself, that the longing she had felt all her life to be more than a goose in a gaggle was fulfilled.

Suddenly, the warm wind dropped away, and the little gosling found herself tumbling through the air. Terrified, she somehow kept her wits about her and remembered the teachings how to land. She shakily maneuvered back to where the great V-leader and all the other geese were waiting.

“How was it?” the V-leader asked gently.

“Amazing,” she said, wide-eyed.

“And?” he prodded.

“Very scary,”

“Hm. Now is the time to know that there is an even greater destiny than learning how to fly. You see, we geese are big birds. And we fly very, very far. Actually, to fly as far as we fly is impossible according to the laws of physics. “That is why we fly together in V’s. When a goose beats his wings, he sends an updraft of air behind him, which can then be ridden upon by the goose behind. Then the draft behind the wing of that goose helps the person behind him, and on and on until the end of the V. We can increase our range by many, many times over when we stay together.”

The little gosling was quiet, her mind awakening. “But,” she said quietly, “What about the goose in the front? There’s no wind for him to ride?”

“All will be revealed in time,” he replied mysteriously.

The little gosling began to learn from the other geese in the gaggle how to fly in V-formation. It was hard work, to figure out how to cooperate with others’ rhythms, and to work together. Soon, though, her wings became strong and she gained many flying friends.

One day she noticed that the great V-leader would often retire after long training journeys to his little clearing by the river. “Is our great V-leader okay?” she asked a fellow goosemate.

“He is very tired. To be at the tip of the V is so hard. He needs to create an updraft for all of us geese in formation to fly upon. He is trying to train more and more geese to fly at the tip of the V, but we can be slow learners. Many of us want to fly as far back in the V as possible. Being the leader may look glorious but it is the hardest work of all. And for our V-leader, he truly does his best to show us and train us and encourage us. So he continues on, year after year.”

A tear slid down the gosling’s beak and dripped off of the tip. “This sounds so terrible. Why would he do such a thing if it is so hard on him? Why?”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

So the gosling waddled over to the edge of the V-leader’s little clearing. He was resting in his spot, honking melodiously. The lines around his beak were pronounced, but his golden brown eyes were bright.

“Great goose leader,” the gosling said timidly. “I have a question for you,”

“Anything for you, little one,” he said and beckoned her closer with a great sweep of his wings. 

“How come you do it? How come you work so hard - and you are advancing in age – to lead the V when it is such hard work?”

The V-leader smiled. “I will share with you a secret. There is a greater fulfillment than flying, greater fulfillment than the fun and companionship of riding with other geese, greater fulfillment even than reaching our distant destination. The greatest fulfillment is to strain every muscle in your wings to create an updraft for the goose behind you until you do not know how you will beat your wing one more time. The greatest fulfillment is to honk the sacred song so that the others behind you are encouraged to keep flying, to honk until your voice is gone and you cannot honk anymore.”

“But why, great leader? Why?”

“Love. That’s all there is to it. I love each and every one of you. And, I am also glad that you are no longer stuck waddling around on the ground.” He laughed then, his wings rising and falling with mirth. Then his voice became soft, “In truth, I am not a leader at all. I am only your servant.” The V-leader fell quiet and turned to gaze off into the sky towards the setting sun.

“In truth,” he continued, “a V-leader cannot lead on his or her own. It’s impossible. The V-leader rides upon the wind of grace of our great Lord, who speaks to the hearts of all and gives us the strength to continue on.”

The V-leader became grave and he beckoned the little gosling a little closer. “Do you want to know an even greater secret?” She nodded, eyes wide. “We are all riding the wind of grace of our great Lord but most of us do not know it or feel it. But He is there, holding all of us in His arms.”

The little gosling remembered her first flight, and the feeling she had had of being held by someone so much greater than herself.

“The most beautiful secret of all is that you are learning to fly so that one day, when the time is right, the spirits of great geese will come for you, and then you may join their formation and fly up into the sky to never return to the ground. You shall be supported by the great souls and held in the arms of our great Lord forever.”

 The little gosling’s beak dropped open a bit in wonder.

“For now, though,” the V-leader said kindly, “Just try to beat your wings a little more nicely for the goose behind you.”

Radhanath Swami, thank you for showing me a destiny beyond waddling around on the ground of this material world forever, never using my God-given wings to fly. Thank you for teaching me that my greatest destiny is not only to fly, but to call upon the strength of our great Lord to encourage and support those near to me with love and compassion. I pray that one day I may serve in the way you serve.

Valentine Prayer

"For the living, death is certain; for the dead, birth is certain." - Bhagavad Gita

Radhanath Swami wants his students to learn how to serve someone who is dying. So he asked Barbara Slaine and Henry Weiss to please allow those who serve at The Bhakti Center to participate in their "death doula" training program. Ghanashyam signed up.

For the past three days, Ghanashyam has shared with me stories and points of the training that have brought me to tears, all showing the power and beauty of death.

Today, Ghanashyam called me. "Bhakti," he said, "Today we were given an assignment,"

"Oh really?"

"Yes, we were put into groups and were given the assignment to choose someone in our lives whom we love and to design a way to facilitate their passing from this world. It's called an 'advance directive.' So... I chose you,"

"Really? How so?"

"Well, how we're planning our wedding, I'm discovering so much of what you love. So I said that I would put lots of beautiful draping cloth from the ceiling in warm colors. The bedspread would be in that Jaipur block print that you love.

"Then, when people enter the room they would all be required to approach deities of Radha and Krishna and to bow down and offer respects, no matter who they were. We've been told that when people know that when something pleases the person who is dying, everyone is happy to do what he or she wants. So religion doesn't matter. I was thinking how you love deities and would want everyone to offer their respects as the first thing that they do when they come into the room,"

Tears filled my eyes. I pictured Ragunath's deities, Radha Madan Mohan, in that room.

"Then I was thinking how you love to write, this is a part of your legacy. Maybe some of your writings of your choosing from your blog could be compiled and given to guests, and maybe on beautiful stationery,"

Tears flowed.

"Then I was thinking how when everyone comes out of the room they would all take prasad, and what's more they would serve each other. You love to take prasad and for everyone to serve each other. You would want that.

"And then in the room, there could be a point where we all surround you on the bed and share some words of appreciation, or a special story in honor of you. That's your style - you love these community type of events where everyone must do something, there's no slipping away, for everyone to bond.

"It was beautiful, because when I shared all of these ideas with the whole group, everyone was fascinated. People kept exclaiming how beautiful this all seemed, how special I must be, and 'wow, you really love your fiancee. I feel like I know her so well, I wish I could be there!'"

"Well, hopefully not yet," and we both laughed.

"The people in my group were fascinated by how you love saris," Ghanashyam continued, "and then one of them even suggested that maybe you wear your favorite sari,"

Immediately I thought of my initiation sari - the ivory one with the gold border.

"And there could be a corner where kirtan and bhajans are going on, so that people could go and sing the holy name,"

Tears flowed down my face and I had the most curious experience of being so deeply loved. Ghanashyam knows me on the soul level. He loves me on the soul level.

"Ghanashyam," I said, "This is the most beautiful Valentine's Day gift I could have ever received. Everything you said... this is exactly how I would want to leave this world. With your words and description, I feel unafraid of death, that I will be surrounded by love and my next destination is auspicious.

"Ghanashyam, I want to also meditate on how to facilitate your leaving this world,"

"Yes, it is a beautiful meditation," he said.

Several hours have passed and I realize that if I was to leave the world in such a loving way, the fear of being a nobody has faded away. The burning desire to be world famous or rich or accomplished has vanished. I don't need to be remembered for eons and put down in the annals of history.

All I want is to be surrounded by loved ones and the holy name, to leave a legacy of love. And soon those people who remembered me will pass from this world and no one will actually remember me or mark my space in history.

And that is okay.

Because my soul has moved onward in the journey of love. That is all that matters.

Whichever one of us leaves first, I only hope that I may journey with Ghanashyam towards Krishna even beyond this lifetime. That is my Valentine prayer.

Soul Surfer

Dear Radhanath Swami,

Please accept my heartfelt respects. All glories to our beloved Srila Prabhupad.

Surfing is one of those rare sports where the conditions are left up to the mysterious ways of Mother Earth. One needs a clean, solid wave to surf, and this is dependent upon so many factors such as the wind, floor depth, the moon's position, and so on. So when the surf is up in Hawaii, it is not uncommon for locals to call out from work and head out to the ocean with their surfboards. Hardcore surfers are always searching for the perfect wave, simply because it’s so unpredictable.

There is a term “soul surfer,” which means that although these surfers may enter competitions, they do not only aim to win. Soul surfing suggests that there is a deeper motive and even spirituality to waiting for the perfect wave and riding an energy that is beyond one’s power.

Today, on your Vyasa Puja, I am meditating how the ocean is the Lord, the waves are His grace, and you are a soul surfer. I experience you as a rare soul who has left behind what you “should” do and answered the call of the Lord, wherever His call has lead you. You have crisscrossed the world countless times, often suffering so much physically. I believe I speak for everyone here that when we hear that you are sick and in pain, our hearts break. And yet your soul calls you on, the Lord calls you on. Your eyes are trained to your own heart, to Sri Radha Gopinath, to Srila Prabhupad, always waiting, always waiting for the moment that the surf is up, the moment that They call you. And when the time comes, you answer. I sense that They trust you so deeply to answer Their call that They have begun to call you more and more, in service of Truth and Love.

Today I am deeply inspired by your example, the way in which you live your life with surrender, both waiting for grace as well as responding to the call. I once saw a father teaching his son how to surf – the little boy was on the board, and when a gentle wave would come, the father would maneuver the board into place, stand up, and pull the little boy up with him. In this way, I feel that you have brought me along this path of grace, pulling me up when I have no strength and no idea what I’m doing. Ever kind, ever patient, you are teaching me through your love, strength, and example how to answer the call of the Lord.

May this year be filled with many, many waves of grace.

With love, respect, and gratitude,

Bhakti lata dasi

Wake Up to Love

What am I going to do with my life?

Sheez, what a heavy question.

Last night in a pool of light from my bedstand, I was scrawling away in my journal. I'm facing the fact that suddenly I'm unsure what I'm going to do for a meaningful career or service in life. I've been feeling tortured about this lately, seriously.

So I decided to lighten up! I asked myself: "If money were not an issue, what would you love to wake up to every day for the rest of your life?"

Just play around. I dare you. 

I was a bit rusty at first, but then the juices flowed and my pen flew across the page. Of course my old flame profession came back, the one I've been daydreaming about since I was fifteen - photographer for National Geographic.

Then came conscious children's book writer. 

Ooooo, and I LOVE baking muffins, I could open up a prasadam, vegan, gluten-free muffin shop!

Then I really meditated on how I feel deeply grateful and on-purpose when I can facilitate a group of people to experience a higher calling - through communication, kirtan, prasadam, and more. My pen kind of cycled me back around to how there is a reason I pursued Education in my undergraduate and graduate degrees. I love to organize and own the way I share knowledge, and give my students the opportunity to own that knowledge and run with it, run with it, run with it!! 

The other evening we hosted an event at The Bhakti Center where all the graduates of the spring courses came together for kirtan, to hear Radhanath Swami speak, and honor prasadam. I called upon graduates of Kirtan Connection to not only participate but to lead up the various aspects of the event, from hospitality, kirtan, and the whammy, serving prasadam in sit-down, Vaishnava style. 

Lots of preparation went into the event. The day of, though, I just stepped back and watched these students take over with incredible skill and inspiration. I was there to assist when needed, but really, at one point I almost felt guilty. Um, should I be doing more?? 

The eyes of guests as they left the event were bright and shining with gratitude. There's something about kirtan, sacred words, and prasadam that deeply opens the heart. I saw Radhanath Swami approach many of my students and thank them, even hug the men, and I was so deeply grateful and humbled. 

I just wish that every day of my life I could wake up to that. 

Jaded

One morning when I was 21, I was in Mumbai, India, listening to Radhanath Swami give a spiritual discourse to several hundred people all packed tightly into a temple. At the end of the discourse, he asked if there were any questions. Being me, I shot my hand up, and when Radhanath Swami called upon me, I stumbled through a rather complicated question.

Radhanath Swami then asked, "Do you all know Bhakti devi?" Several hundred pairs of eyes swiveled to look at me. Heads shook. He proceeded to glorify me in a rather sweet and embarrassing way, and one thing he said kind of shot to my heart. He pronounced that I was the most enthusiastic second generation devotee he had ever known. 

Finally he said, "Could you repeat the question? I was too busy glorifying you." 

This morning I was reflecting on how my enthusiasm has waned. Over the past seven years or so I feel that I have put my heart out, put my heart out, put my heart out. I've allowed myself to get excited, to make plans, to venture forth, venture forth! Time and again, because I've opened up my heart so wide, I have experienced pain that has gone straight into the heart. 

Today at 28, I find myself sore and somewhat jaded. I find myself disconnected from that enthusiasm for spiritual life and for life, especially in relationships. I am blessed and grateful for a significant other in my life, Ghanashyam, who is a deep, compassionate, loving man who keeps me connected to Krishna. At the same time, I am realizing how the hurt I have felt in so many relationships in life has lead to a point of deadness and sadness. An apathy. A continual asking of, "What's the point?"

Maybe that's the next question to ask Radhanath Swami. 

Your Shore

Below is a poem I wrote several years ago. These words came to me very strongly this evening, and I have been deeply absorbed in what it truly means to return once more, once more, once more to my spiritual teacher and my spiritual path. 

Vyasa Puja Offering 2013

Dear Radhanath Swami,

Please accept my respects. All glories to our beloved Srila Prabhupad.

When my mother sits down to play the harp, she brings out her electric tuner and tuning fork. She plucks each and every string and checks the sound against her tuner. A needle swings right or left to gauge when a note is on or off key. My mother then twists each and every knob with her tuning fork, carefully making sure that all of the strings shine as on-key on her tuner.

When all 48 strings have been tuned, my mother then strums her graceful hands across the strings in a waterfall of notes. She can now play and sing all kinds of music - from classical and jazz pieces to my personal favorite, her heartaching rendition of Bhajahu Re Mana.

In a similar way, Radhanath Swami, I get you as such an expert musician of the soul. Each time you sit down to speak, you fold your palms, close your eyes, and crease your brows in prayer. With the tuning fork of your prayers, you adjust your heart to the unshakeable and eternal values and instructions of your beloved spiritual master, Srila Prabhupad.

Then, when you are tuned, you open your eyes and speak. I have seen you move thousands of people to laughter as well as to tears. You respond to the most cutting questions and challenges with grace. You transform hearts. You transform mine.

I pray that I may follow your example. I pray that I may tune in to your and Srila Prabhupad's values and instructions. I want to be your instrument. Please.

Yet once I am tuned, there is an even higher destiny than being played on my own. In this regard, I once went to a classical music concert. For a full half an hour, my mom and I just listened to the orchestra tune in with each other. It was actually part of the concert! Frankly, I was getting rather bored.

But it was worth it. When at last the concert began, the music created was awe-inspiring.

Similarly, we devotees of Krishna and your disciples are all different instruments. But if we can tune in to each other - even if it's a long or boring or painful process - we can create something so much more powerful than we could ever create on our own. We can create a symphony of love and compassion for God and for the world. This is our highest destiny.

Thank you for being in my life, Radhanath Swami. Thank you for showing by example how to tune in and be a part of this divine symphony.

Sincerely,

In service,

Bhakti lata dasi

Inspection

My room here at the Bhakti Center was a tornado zone for quite a long time. So much moving had my life in a whirlwind. Boxes, luggage, piles of clothes and bags lay everywhere.

When I had a day off work, immediately I scheduled a trip out of town to buy organizational stuff at a Wal-Mart.

After many hours I came back, holding a long box and laden down with all of my organizational stuff in my suitcase. I stepped out of the elevator onto the sixth floor. In the hallway I encountered a huge crowd of residents.

"Hey guys, is there a party going down?" I called out, jolly.

Virabhadra grinned at me. "We're here to greet you, Bhakti lata!"

"Ha ha, nice. No seriously, what's up?"

Just then, all heads turned to the apartment door 6W and everyone fell a little quiet - Radhanath Swami emerged.

"Oh, haribol Maharaj," I said.

"Bhakti lata, where have you been?" he asked.

"I was at Wal-Mart. I bought a lot of organizational stuff for my room."

His eyes went wide. "Can I come see your room?"

"God no, Maharaj," I replied with a little laugh. "It's a tornado zone."

"No really, I'd like to come see your room,"

I laughed again, still thinking that he was joking. "Ah, sorry my dear gurumaharaj, but my room is a mess."

Radhanath Swami took up the handle of my rolling luggage. My eyes went wide.

"Let's go," he said.

I walked forward towards my apartment, my feet becoming heavy with each step. Maharaj rolled my luggage behind me. My mind raced - my room, my room, God forbid was there anything embarrassing lying around, like underwear? Sure, I could've firmly said no, but this seemed to be very important to Maharaj. He had been inquiring about my living situation from the moment he had reached the Bhakti Center.

We entered apartment 6E and I walked towards my room. My friend Nanda joined us. "Maharaj, I just bought all this organizational stuff, I swear!"

He just smiled, maneuvering my luggage over some shoes on the floor. Then with a pounding heart, I slowly opened the door to my little room. He came over and peeked inside. Nanda also came and we exchanged nervous looks. My room was a madhouse. My stomach dropped.

Maharaj turned to me and lifted his brows, then stepped inside to turn on the lamp. He peered around and then stepped even deeper into my room, standing in the very center of the chaos. "Hm, no windows..."

I held bated breath. Then he came around and peered into other crevices of the tiny room, leaving no spot unobserved. I felt like I was getting X-rayed.

He emerged.

"Calling this room a mess is like calling the ocean a puddle," he remarked, then laughed, his eyes twinkling.

Only Radhanath Swami could make a poetic analogy out of this. I laughed too.

Maharaj then systematically went through the rest of the apartment, observing the piles of bags in the hallway, the unswept floors. He seemed to be catching us off-guard - who we were when no one was looking. There was something stinging and yet also relieving about him being there, like hydrogen peroxide cleaning a cut.

At the end of his inspection, he turned to me and said, "Bhakti lata, I would do anything for you,"

I fell silent, and my heart echoed with the unspoken words, Please just let me be near Radha Murlidhar. Please let me be here or nearby.

Then Maharaj turned around and said, "Well, we had our pastimes," then he chuckled and left apartment 6E.

Jewel of Stillness

For the past two weeks, my life has been scheduled chaos. Yeah, I guess I'm just catching the New York vibe, right?

Sigh.

Amidst such storms of activity, something stands out to me right now as I write this. Last night, Radhanath Swami gave a talk, and because I was MCing the program, I sat right up front. I'm talking front row, there was literally no one sitting in front of me.

Even though I had so many duties to conduct this program and I could have been dashing all over the Bhakti Center to arrange stuff, somehow I was forced to just sit. Sit still, Bhakti lata, and listen.

Listen I did.

There's just something about the way that Radhanath Swami speaks that pulls me into another world. Radhanath Swami has this grace to cut through to the essence with such beauty.

Last night, time stood still. I could've listened to him for hours speaking about compassion, integrity, humility, self-worth.

Not to get too gurukuli on you, but I'm just not much of a scripture class kind of girl. I remember, though, how when I was about fifteen and just getting to know Radhanath Swami, his classes would have this same effect of me: time would stand still. The world would fall quiet and my mind would be washed in light, my heart washed in realization.

I once heard that a symptom that someone is our spiritual master is when we listen to him or her speak spiritual philosophy and all of our doubts vanish. For as long as I can remember, back even to when I was a child, when I have heard Radhanath Swami speak, my doubts would vanish, my heart would awaken.

In this sense, as the years go on I realize that I did not choose Radhanath Swami as my guru. My soul has only needed to recognize him as my guide and beloved master.

So amidst such chaos here in New York - and while I am praying praying praying for things to settle down - to sit in front of Radhanath Swami speak was a jewel of stillness. 

An Official Mystery

"You want to walk with Radhanath Swami and me to the Union Square Park harinam?" Dhanurdhara Swami asked me. We were conversing in a hallway of the Bhakti Center in New York City.

"Why, sure!" I replied.

"Let me just go ask him, and I'll get back to you. We'll leave soon, so just stick around,"

I nodded.

I had just flown in from India that very morning after being gone from America for almost an entire year. I kid you not when I say that tears stung my eyes when I walked through the corridors of Newark Airport. I was on American "soil"! I felt unabashedly patriotic.

Today was also the day that I had officially moved into the Bhakti Center - to give this Center and this city a whirl in service for awhile, see how things go.

A half an hour later, Dhanurdhara Swami ushered me to join him and Radhanath Swami, but the time was running late so we hailed a cab. As usual, I felt nervous to be around my spiritual master, who is such a huge guiding force in my life. The two swamis got into the back and I got into the front. How surreal, I thought. I'm riding in a cab with such eminent personalities. 

When we got out of the cab at Union Square Park, I could hear the distant thrum of the mridanga drum and the soft 'ting' of the karatalas. We were getting closer to the harinam.

I circled around to join the two dignified Swamis in their flowing orange robes. Radhanath Swami caught my eye. A mysterious smile lit up his face and he intoned, "Bhakti lata, today I officially give to you New York City."

My eyes widened. "Really?" That sounded pretty important, but I was puzzled. "What does that mean?"

"In time, everything will be revealed," he replied enigmatically.

I knit my eyebrows. I turned to Dhanurdhara Swami, "Maharaj, what does that mean, that Radhanath Swami has officially given to me New York City?"

"Ah, this is called Prabhudatta Desha,"

"Prabhupada Desha?" I said, trying to clarify.

"No, Prabhudatta, with a 't.' Prabhudatta Desha,"

"Prabhudatta Desha," I said carefully. The three of us were now walking abreast, weaving through crowds, approaching the harinam.

"Yes," Dhanurdhara Swami said, "This means 'the place of residence that the guru gives to you as your main place of service,'"

I was stunned. I looked over to Radhanath Swami. He grinned. "I told you that everything would soon be revealed."

A week later and I am realizing that his words will take a lifetime to be revealed.

Manhattan skyline the morning I arrived

Union Square Park harinam

Birthday Prayer

Yesterday morning for my birthday, my friend Mandali and I took a rickshaw to Bhaktisiddhanta Saraswati Thakur's bhajan kutir. This is the place where the Thakur made a vow to chant one billion names of the Lord in prayer for the fallen souls of this age. He chanted for 9 years and 3 months.

I had wanted this quiet, meditative morning; obviously Lord Chaitanya had a different plan. Yesterday so happened to be the last day of Navadwip Mandala Parikrama! This is an organized pilgrimage that draws thousands of people from every corner of the world. Mandali and I were moving among rivers and rivers of people, their eyes glowing, faces bright. We kept shaking our heads and grinning, letting ourselves get carried with the current. 

The kutir itself is usually quiet, but yesterday thousands had gathered in the courtyard to sing kirtan and listen to saintly people speak about such a holy place. I felt moved by how the Lord has truly reciprocated with the Thakur's prayers to flood the world with love of God. 

This kutir is the place to pray to be empowered to give. I prayed that this year I can be strong and share with others the love that has been given to me by the great souls.

Bhaktisiddhanta Saraswati Thakur 

Srila Prabhupad 

my spiritual master, Radhanath Swami 

Wish Granted

From the moment I had woken up at 3:30 in the morning, I was an engine revving to go. Go, go, go! Go to Mangal Arati, go to the Mayapur Academy, go practice, go chant, go! Get everything done so that I could go hear my guru speak tonight.

Radhanath Swami had been here in Mayapur for almost a week, speaking every night to 4,000 people on the glories of Lord Chaitanya. Even though the pandal where he was speaking was only a couple hundred meters from where I was studying, I had not yet had time to spend one full night to listen. I was just so, so busy.

But tonight would be different. I was scheduling my day meticulously to leave school on time. Not only that, I was going to sit up at the very, very front and look at Maharaj's face the entire time!

Night fell. Despite my planning, I was still at school. Still practicing for my exam.

The lecture had begun. The pandal was so close by the Academy that I could hear the echoes of the microphone as Maharaj spoke. I felt spikes of pain to be so close yet so far. My hopes from the whole day crashed around me.

And yet at the same time, I knew that by being here, studying for Krishna, that was what Radhanath Swami himself would've wanted of me.

So I stayed.

Later that night, I was walking home from dinner with my friend Jahnava. We were turning a corner on the road when I saw up ahead a figure in orange, walking by himself, his orange cloth lit up by a streetlight behind him. At first I thought he was a brahmachari.

Then I looked again.

"Oh my, Maharaj!" I exclaimed. I immediately knelt to the dust to offer my respects. Jahnava also knelt.

By the time I had stood up, Maharaj had walked up to both of us, his eyes shining, his face beaming.

"Bhakti lata devi!" he said and looked into my eyes. "I have been yearning to see you."

I was speechless for a moment. "Maharaj... I... I've been yearning to see you!"

He was quiet for a moment, smiling, then he turned to Jahnava and asked, "What is your name?"

"Jahnava," she replied.

"Beautiful," he said, holding her gaze for several moments. He turned to me again and was quiet. Then, as if he had all the time in the world, he asked me gently, "How are you?"

"I am very well, Maharaj," I said, and I was thinking I would just end it there. After all, this was someone who only an hour before had been speaking to 4,000 people. Surely he had other things to do, other people to talk to. But I found no such mood of rush in Maharaj's face or his voice. He simply wanted to know how I was.

And so I shared with Maharaj a little about Mayapur Academy, and we spoke about how to learn the essence of every ritual we do. He said that he may come to my graduation in March to hand students their diplomas. "I may hand you yours," Maharaj said with a smile.

Then we folded our palms and bid each other goodbye and goodnight.

Jahnava and I continued to walk home, and my eyes were wide and shining.

The holy land of Mayapur seems to grant wishes.

Inspiration - To Breathe In

On Friday afternoon, I arrived into New Vrindavan for the annual Festival of Inspiration. I felt strange. I felt as though my mind and heart was riddled with faultfinding in every person I saw. I felt raw because I was finding fault with myself. 

That evening, I got to interact with my spiritual master, Radhanath Swami, for the first time in an entire year. He glowed with kindness and love. We spoke for about five minutes, and when I walked away, I felt reflective. 

I was tidying my bunk on the bus a little later, feeling a little hopeless about all of my faultfinding. But then I wondered, "What would Radhanath Swami do? What would HE say is the antidote to the poison of faultfinding?"

Glorifying. Appreciation. 

Suddenly a huge grin blossomed on my face.  I decided that I would dare to share my experience of someone's beautiful essence with at least 10 people, and then keep going so as to lose track. 

The next day, I had some trouble in my quest. I felt mired in my faultfinding, and it took me awhile to muster up courage to share my experience of someone's inspiring essence. To share my appreciation with my parents, who were visiting from out of town, was a special challenge.

But once I did, I began to pick up speed and more speed, to the point that appreciation was all I wanted to say! I began to feel connected to strangers, even. Words of appreciation would flow from my mouth before I could even think. 

On Mother's Day, I filled an entire booklet in my appreciation of my mother. And I kid you not, after I had finished I felt that I could have filled up an entire other booklet. 

So this Sunday morning when the Festival drew to a close, I sat on the empty, quiet bus, writing in my journal. I reflected that I felt as though I had taken a deep, deep breath of fresh air. 

I felt inspired.

Suddenly, I smiled. The definition of "inspire" is "to breathe in."

I feel as though I made a choice to breathe in the love around me and realize just how much love I can give every moment. Just as we have no choice but to breathe to continue to live, I believe that we get to make the choice every day to live an inspired life. And I discovered that the simplest (but not always the easiest) way to start the flow of love is to appreciate, to glorify. 

So go! Get inspired! 

What is the Seed?

At last I have published a page on my blog to describe the philosophy of the "seed of devotion." Below is the new text.

***

The morning that I was born I was given the name Bhakti lata bij which, in the ancient Sanskrit language, translates as "the seed of the vine of devotion."

This bhakti lata bij is very special and rarely given. It is described in ancient scriptures that the living entity has been wandering the universe for millions of years, so very, very lost, so heartsick in his search for love. But somehow, by the grace of the Lord and a loving spiritual master, the living entity receives within his heart the bhakti lata bij, the seed of devotion.

This seed of devotion must be tended to with great care. One must water the seed by serving the Lord and His devotees.

One must receive proper sunlight through the chanting of the holy name.

One must dig out all of the unwanted weeds within the heart - pride, lust, envy, and so many others.

I find it very curious and very profound that the plant in this metaphor of devotion is not a stately banyan tree or a divine lotus. It is a vine. And what is the most important feature of a vine?

It must always rest upon something else to grow.

In this metaphor, that "something else" is the Vaishnavas, the devotees of the Lord.

Then with proper cultivation, love, and grace, resting upon the strength of the devotees, this vine of devotion may wind up and up and up to at last reach the feet of the Lord Himself.

***

brahmanda brahmite kona bhagyavan jiva
guru krsna prasade pay bhakti lata bija


"According to their karma, all living entities are wandering throughout the entire universe. Out of many millions of wandering living entities, one who is fortunate gets an opportunity to associate with a bona fide spiritual master by the grace of Krishna. By the mercy of both Krishna and the spiritual master, such a person receives the seed of the creeper of devotional service." (Chaitanya Charitamrita, Madhya 19.51)

A Profound Interview

My fellow writer, Madhava Smullen, is writing an article for ISKCON News (news.iskcon.com) on the phenomenon of gurukulis (second generation devotees of Krishna) who have received formal initiation. He interviewed me and quite a few others via e-mail.

His questions have prodded me to reflect deeply upon the commitments I have made.

Who initiated you?
Radhanath Swami

Where and when did you get initiated?
Alachua, Florida, May 31st, 2010

What age were you when you got initiated?
23

What were your full names before and after initiation?
My name before initiation was Bhakti lata bij, and after initiation my name became Bhakti lata.

Please explain in a detailed, thoughtful way why you made the decision to get initiated.
        I often hear parallels between marriage and initiation - both are very grave steps in life that involve very profound vows. Of course, marriage is more of a common phenomenon, something that humans can universally relate to, so I'll start from there. So one may ask, why get married? Why make those vows when you can just live lives together as a very committed couple? I have come to the conclusion that there is something about taking those profound vows in front of the world and in front of God that gives the couple the strength to weather the storms.

In very related respects, I was born to devotee parents who gave me a spiritual name at birth. I have followed the four regulative principles my whole life, and Radhanath Swami loves me unconditionally, whether I would have ever received initiation from him or not. So one may wonder - why take that formal step of initiation? For me, it was about committing to those vows in front of the world and in front of God. The vows of initiation are so powerful that sometimes I feel chills to meditate upon them. Those vows carve and shape my life, and give me a safe place to fall. Receiving initiation is like marriage in the sense that now I belong to someone, now I can rest my soul, knowing that I am connected to a family who can carry me in the fiercest of spiritual storms.


What major and subtle changes have there been in your life now that you are initiated? What do you think initiation will continue to change in your life?
        The most profound change I experience is the peace I feel in my heart. I feel settled. I feel grounded and sure and safe. I feel strong - I no longer am only accountable to myself, I am accountable to my spiritual master, to Srila Prabhupad, to all of the devotees. That accountability gives me great strength to set an example for others. I feel that initiation will continue to change my life by giving me the sureness and strength to offer every breath of my life in service, knowing that it shall be offered in the right direction, like water not just poured upon any soil, but soil with seeds underneath.

Why do you think gurukulis have typically been slower about getting initiated? Do you think that is changing now, and if so why?
          I sense that gurukulis have been slower about receiving initiation because they're already immersed in Krishna culture. What's the point in making such heavy vows when one is already IN the flow, chanting, doing service...?

         But the biggest reason for the slower movement towards initiation, I believe, is chanting 16 rounds. It's a huge commitment. For me, getting to the point of actually steadily chanting 16 rounds every day has been the greatest challenge of my entire life, and it still is. I chant a lot slower than even most people, so it takes me around 3 hours every day. And although gurukulis love to chant in kirtan - sometimes for 24 hours straight! - there's something very austere about chanting japa for us. Several years ago, Radhanath Swami once gently commented to me (after I had told him yet again that I was still struggling with chanting), "Yes, you gurukulis would rather feel sincere about japa all the time, or not chant at all."

        I think the trend towards initiation amongst gurukulis is growing, but only very slightly. In my experience, most gurukulis ask this question: "Why initiation?" and usually don't feel very satisfied with the answer.

A question and a concern that the older generation often have is, will gurukulis step up and continue this movement when they are gone? Do you think more gurukulis getting initiated means positive things for the future of the movement?
         I'm not sure if initiation will address the issue of succession. But I do know that where powerful vows of commitment are made, vigor and strength naturally follow. I personally find it incredibly inspiring to witness my peers take to this process so seriously. It gives me hope that my own children shall take to this process naturally as well. That yes, Krishna Consciousness is the nature of the soul, and the process that Srila Prabhupad has given us is complete.

A Freewrite Poem for my Spiritual Master

Thank you

I would be stumbling
stumbling
stumbling
in the jungles of my mind
searching
searching
frantically
searching for love
My soul would be weeping
weeping
every day
weeping
Thank you for giving me
a reason to live
a way to die
at peace
I would be so lost
so lost
searching for love
in all the wrong places
sinking in quicksand
sinking
I would be trying
to capture the moon
in a mirror
I would be clawing at my face
searching for beauty
I would be so lost
so lost
seeking guidance
in a broken compass
I am weeping
weeping
knowing that your love
gives me strength
to live
I am humbled
by your love.

Thank you. 

Searching the Stars

Ever since I was a young teenager, I remember gazing up at the glittering stars in Hawaii and I would feel this empty space in my heart. Naturally, I dreamed of stargazing with my husband one day. I felt that if I could share the stars with someone, especially my husband, I would feel complete.

Back in February, one evening I was driving home from school and I began to sob and sob because I felt such a deep pain and loneliness. I didn't know who I could talk to, I felt so alienated from everyone and everything. I had communicated this loneliness to my spiritual master a couple weeks before. He had looked into my eyes with such understanding and said, "Bhakti lata, that loneliness you feel? It is actually a great gift. Not everyone feels that loneliness. It is your heart searching for Krishna, the Lord."

I began to look for Krishna when I gazed at the stars, but still I felt that loneliness.

This evening I met up with my friend Mia at the temple, and she asked me, as many people are asking me lately, "So what are you up to in life?" Somehow when she asked me that question, it really struck through to my core, and it's even the seed of the reason I am writing this now. I smiled and replied as I've replied all summer, "Spending lots and lots of time with myself."

"How are you keeping busy, though?"

"Well, I teach writing classes, I dance, come to the temple, but mostly I'm spending time with myself and spending time with God. You know, I'm really enjoying my own company. For so much of my life I'm always running around, and now I'm just... being."

We spoke for a bit more. When we walked out to our cars, I said, "I'll always remember your prayer when you offer obeisance when you come in to the templeroom... what are the exact words?"

"God, please fill me with your presence," she said.

"God, please fill me with your presence," I murmured.

We bid goodnight and I headed out to the sandy temple road to chant the Lord's name. I began to meditate on how for this summer I feel such a deep stillness within, such an ocean of quiet. Realizations come to me in waves. I'll spend hours writing in my journal, or I'll listen to the same song 20 or 30 times in a row in meditation. On days when I'm not teaching, sometimes I don't speak with a single other person. I am not lethargic; I am active - I dance, write, interact with friends, sing, teach, etc., but I don't feel frantic. I feel quiet.

This evening I meditated on one of the qualities of Krishna - that he is atmarama, or self-satisfied. He does not need anyone's love, but He wants our love. As Eric Fromm would say: "I need you because I love you."

More than ever this summer I am reflecting on marriage, and the significance of sharing my life with someone. I want to be a whole person to share myself with another whole person. To be truly self-satisfied, I realize that I need the Lord.

I walked for a long time under the stars, barefoot in the sand. The universe seemed to open up tonight in such breathtaking silence.

Just as I was about to head home, I remembered Mia's prayer. I murmured it to myself in obeisance: "God, please fill me with your presence." I searched for that empty feeling in my heart, but I did not feel it. I only felt peace, and such deep gratitude to be chanting the Lord's holy name, barefoot, under the stars. And one day my husband will not fill that space in my heart, but share it with me.

My First Birthday

In Hawaiian tradition, when a baby reaches its first birthday, the family throws a huge luau and the whole community celebrates. When I lived in Hawaii, I didn't understand why "baby luaus" were so common and such a huge deal - I mean, the baby itself wouldn't even remember the event!

Then one day my mom told me, "Well, for a baby to survive its first year is a big deal. After that, the baby grows and becomes stronger and can contribute to the community. But that first year is crucial."

Suddenly I understood the tradition and culture of Hawaiian blessings.

In Vaishnava tradition, another term for a brahmin is "twice-born." When one receives initiation by a qualified spiritual master, the disciple transcends his or her material birth and takes spiritual birth. Thus, "twice-born."

One year ago, on May 31st, 2010, I received spiritual initiation by His Holiness Radhanath Swami. In many ways, I emerged from my initiation feeling so fragile, so not ready to take on the world and the internal challenges that the year ahead would throw at me.

Upon reflection, I realize that I am that one-year-old baby, so immature and dependent and young.

***

"Bhakti lata devi," Radhanath Swam intones into the microphone. "And also would her parents come forward."

Six or seven initiates have gone before me - my heart has been pounding with anticipation for what feels like forever. I rise from my seat and my parents rise from theirs. I feel numb that after so many years of prayer, this moment has finally come.

I settle before my spiritual master; someone hands me a microphone. I take a deep breath and say, "I vow to chant a minimum of - 16 rounds - " my voice chokes up, and heavy tears sting my eyes. My journey to chanting 16 rounds has spanned many years with many crises of faith in the holy name. Radhanath Swami himself has witnessed this journey every step of the way. I continue, " - of the maha mantra - every single day, for all of my life,"

In the silence, Maharaj gives me a playful smile. He teases, "It's not that hard."

Roars of laughter rise from the hundreds gathered in the templeroom. I begin to laugh too, but there's a part of my heart that sinks - It's not that hard? Are you kidding me?? Chanting 16 rounds not that hard? But - but - what about...? 

When the laughter subsides, Maharaj says lovingly, "Everyone's cheering you on!"

With that, cheers and the thrum of mridangas and kartals sweep through the templeroom. They rise and rise and wash over me in wave upon wave. My feverish heart cools and softens with the blessings of the Vaishnavas.

When the templeroom falls quiet once more, I finish my vows with a strong and clear voice: "I vow to follow the 4 regulative principles of no intoxication, no gambling, no meat eating, and no illicit sex. I vow to imbibe the mood of the servant and be loyal to Srila Prabhupad, Sri Guru, and all of the Vaishnavas."

Radhanath Swami smiles. He turns to my parents and glorifies their talents, their marriage, their devotion, and the way they have raised me. He turns to me. "Bhakti lata is an emerging leader in her community. She loves to sing, loves to serve, loves to dance... loves Krishna." He pauses and smiles. "You were born to love Krishna,"

I feel abashed and humbled.

In the tradition of love and respect, Radhanath Swami requests that I take the dust of the feet of my parents. I touch the feet of my mother and father and embrace each one. They are my original gurus.

When I settle before my spiritual master once more, he pulls out a pair of dark, rough wooden chanting beads. These are the beads that he chanted on this morning, and the beads that I pray to chant on for the rest of my life. "I don't have the heart to change your name, " he says, "So on behalf of Srila Prabhupad and the guru parampara, your name is Bhakti lata devi dasi,"

He holds out my beads, I hold out my palms, and I receive my chanting beads amidst an ocean of cheers and blessings.

Upon the strength of those blessings, I have held to my vows through beautiful pain and beautiful peace. I feel as though I'm throwing myself a "baby luau" in my heart, because somehow, I've made it!

Upon the strength of the guru parampara and the holy name, I've made it! Hallelujah!

I pray to become only stronger and stronger in my vows - yes, even chanting 16 rounds. I vowed to chant a "minimum" of 16 rounds - now I chant beyond that number simply because I want to. 

After all, it's not that hard.

Radhanath Swami's Magic

Over the past several days During Radhanath Swami's recent visit to Alachua, I have contrived so many reasons to keep my distance - he's too busy, I'm too mental and unqualified, etc.

My mind wants distance...

...but my soul wants closeness! Without fail, day after day, I am drawn irresistibly closer and closer to his beautiful presence, to listen closer to his beautiful kirtans, to soak in deeper his beautiful words... to laugh at his beautiful humor.

There is a saying, "We may forget what someone has said, we may even forget what someone has done, but we will never forget how someone made us feel." So while Radhanath Swami's words and actions guide my own words and actions on a daily basis, sometimes I forget all of that.

All I remember is how I feel when I am in his presence: bathed in purity. Inspired and at peace. 

This morning after Bhagavatam class, I simply walked up to him with a huge smile on my face; I expressed my gratitude for his class and his presence. I said, "I feel so grateful to be under your shelter, Maharaj,"  

He smiled in his effulgent way and said, "I feel grateful I got to serve you!"

I hope to serve him one day. 

A Story

This particular story began when I was thirteen - I began to develop a chronic, mysterious illness that only became progressively more painful. One day at school when I was fourteen, Google was just emerging as a tool to find information, so I searched for the symptoms of my illness.

A form of cancer.

6 months to 1 year to live.

I remember that my mind numbed, my vision became sharp and blurred at the same time. I remember that I stood up from the computer and walked out into the hot sun. Students and teachers busily moved about me in a whirl, and one question echoed in my mind:

Why?

How do I describe how it feels to hear one's own death sentence? At fourteen, I was planning all the things I would do - the world to travel, schools to establish, people to meet - and in one moment it had all been taken away from me. It seemed so unjust, so unfair.

With my deep nature and immature age, the weight of the mystery of life and death began to crush down upon me that day and for many years to come. I did not tell anyone what I had found. Instead, I searched for the meaning of life in scripture, in my faith.

The next several years brought in a merry-go-round of doctors. One doctor in particular looked at my condition and nearly declared that I had cancer and would need a very invasive surgery if I had any hope to live. Her diagnosis was incorrect, but the mystery persisted.

For my fifteenth summer, I flew to my childhood home of New Vrindavan. A spiritual teacher was visiting then, by the name of Radhanath Swami. One morning he was giving a lecture and I decided to stay. His lecture spoke about life and death - the immediacy that at any moment we may die and the immediacy of taking to spiritual life right now. Tears streamed down my face because I knew he spoke from realization - he must have heard his own death sentence in his life once, because his words resonated so deeply within me.

An elder woman who had known me for many years as a child saw me crying and came over to comfort me. She asked me what was wrong. All I could say was, "This is true."

I struggled for many years with my illness, but I found shelter in Krishna Consciousness, and I found shelter in the guidance of Radhanath Swami.

Radhanath Swami once told me that in metalworking, gold is put into a fire to purify it. The hotter the fire, the purer the metal becomes. Our soul is like that - sometimes if the Lord is especially loving and kind, He will put us into the fire of an experience to purify our soul.

More than a decade has passed since that fateful day at school. Several years ago, my illness left me just as mysteriously as it came. To this day, I still do not know its name or cause.

Or maybe I do: its name was "fire" and its cause was to purify my soul, to learn to live every day of my life, every moment of my life, every breath of my life for the Lord. Some days I weep tears of gratitude for that fire. I am grateful to my spiritual master, Radhanath Swami, for teaching me that that fire was one of the most beautiful blessings I could ever receive from the Lord.