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.

Let Me Love the Way You Love (Part 2 of 4)

After chanting, my mind was razor sharp and I blazed through my accounting.

When I made my final calculation, I put down my pen and picked up my japa bag and headed down to visit the rooms of Srila Prabhupad. 

Whenever Srila Prabhupad came to Vrindavan in his later years, he would live in these rooms, and ultimately he left the world in these rooms. Just by walking through the doorway, my mind became as quiet and warm as when I was chanting the holy name.

Hung on the wall was a picture of Srila Prabhupad that sent chills racing through my body. 

Srila Prabhupad's body is emaciated, he is lying on his deathbed, which was in this very room, and a disciple holds a dictaphone to his mouth. He is giving commentary on the tenth canto of the Srimad Bhagavatam. 

In those final moments of his life, he was serving. Giving truth. Giving love.

Let me love the way you love, Srila Prabhupada.

I sat down to chant in front of his murti, or sacred statue, which was seated behind his original desk. In my short time there, I saw an elderly woman from Russia and a monk from India and a young couple from South America come to bow before him. I realized that his kind of love reached to every corner of the world. I want to love the way you love, Srila Prabhupad. 

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

Little Pot to Big Pot

On our third day of the Radha Krishna Camp in Brazil, I asked the group of 19 teenage girls, "So what quality do you all want to develop as a group today?"

We broke up into two smaller groups to discuss. In the group I was in, one girl mentioned how everyone seems to be in their own little groups. She formed her hands into a circle, "A panelinha," she said.

"Panelinha?"

"It means 'clique,'" said the girl who was translating.

"Oh really?" I lifted my brows.

"Yes, it means 'little pot,'"

I laughed. Then all the girls laughed to see that I got it. Oh yes, I thought to myself, there were many little pots simmering on the stove of this Camp. 

"Let's be more open," the first girl explained in Portuguese, and other girls nodded in assent. Ultimately, all of the girls agreed to explore being open today.

The analogy became a running joke - any time there were little groups of girls, some would yell out, "panelinha, panelinha!!" and either break it up or say, "Hey, wanna join my panelinha?"

With each day, the fire became hotter and hotter in this camp. What can one expect when you get 19 girls all living in the same house day after day? We were serving each other prasad every day, getting up early for morning programs, we rode horses, hiked, offered a performance at a senior home, we had a dance party... Let's just say that many tears were shed - from pain in the body, pain in the heart, from gratitude, and from joy.

The final morning of the camp, we each offered appreciation for one other person. When the meeting concluded, spontaneously everyone moved throughout the room, embracing each other, tears flowing and flowing. From my years of saying goodbye on Bus Tours, I knew that never again would we all be in the same room again.

I didn't say anything, only looked each girl in the eyes and felt my heart overflow. What an insane adventure.

We had transformed from a bunch of panelinhas to one panelón - little pot to big pot. 

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. 

The Sound of Silence

I walk through the cold and dark streets, the city night so quiet to me. I enter the park and walk past sludgy snow piled up against empty benches. Round street lamps bob in the night like so many candle flames. The almost full-moon hangs in the sky, surrounded by one or two glittering stars. The trees are all bare.

I gingerly sit on a cold bench before the Prabhupad Tree. I glance up at bare branches which seem to reach for the sky. Almost 50 years ago, Prabhupad came to sit under these branches to sing the holy name.Through his kirtan, he transformed hearts, he transformed the world.

Now, the word is silence - I seem to be surrounded by so much silence.

Every time I come here I feel this silence, and in that silence the emotion of gratitude always emerges. I feel grateful to Prabhupad for giving me a reason to live. I feel grateful that he persevered. I feel grateful to be breathing and to be on the path of love, true love.

I close my journal and rise to my feet, gazing at the Tree. I then kneel to the ground and touch my forehead to the cold concrete bricks in obeisance. When I stand again, I whisper, "Thank you Srila Prabhupad," and turn around to leave.

Walking away, I can still hear the silence.

Winter Bus Tour Photo Essay

A big silver bus outfitted with bunkbeds and filled with youth will head out to Mexico tomorrow for the 2013 Winter Bus Tour. Two years ago I had the honor of going on the Tour to perform bharatanatyam dance, sing kirtan with Madhava Prabhu, and connect with the amazing people on and off the bus.

In tribute of the Bus Tour, here's a photo essay of some of the pictures I took two years ago. 

waiting for prasadam

I often escaped to visit cathedrals

The Gita play

kirtan programs almost every evening

Agua Azul

kirtan with Madhava Prabhu

the ruins of Palenque

panoramic shot of a city wall 

Our Bus Tour Gaura Nitai and Haridas Thakur deities. They're the ultimate adventurers.   

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

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

The Mayapur Academy

After five years of prayer, endeavor, and many, many blessings, three days ago I received a Diploma with Distinction from the Mayapur Academy.

When Nrisimha Kavacha Prabhu came through Alachua in 2007, he spoke about the Mayapur Academy. The Academy would be a place where people from around the world could come and learn the art of worshiping the Lord in his deity form.

Immediately I resolved that one day I would take this 4-month course. Year after year passed, but the time was never right. Finally, last year I graduated from college and was free to go to India.

Only... I was a broke, fresh-out-of-college student.

But this was the year. It had to be.

With much trepidation, I began a fundraising campaign. I needed to raise thousands of dollars within only two months. Would people believe in me? I faced huge walls within myself to reach out so boldly.

I swallowed my pride and began to send e-mails and then make phone calls. I soon began to realize, though, that through fundraising for this trip, Lord Chaitanya was pushing me forward to beg the blessings of everyone I knew in my life - professional colleagues, senior devotees, peers, even juniors. A tsunami of blessings rushed in.

I reached almost my entire fundraising goal.

Thus, built upon the blessings of the devotees, last November I stepped into the Mayapur Academy. For four months I have been immersed in a powerful world filled with austerity, magic, and beauty.


I have dived deep into the reality that God is a person. Be clean for God, show up on time for God, cook the best food for God, give the best clothes and jewelry and flowers to God. Sing for Him, sacrifice for Him, be soft with Him, cry for Him.


That is love.

Love is a verb, and for the past four months I have been in the fire of that verb, realizing how how icy my heart truly is. My only hope is to remain in the fire.

Now that I have received my diploma, I am reflecting how I have been propelled forward by the blessings I received last year and every step of the way. I especially want to thank my parents - my fundraising campaign had been unfinished, and so they have supported me in these final months to finish the Academy.

I feel deeply moved by each and every person who spoke some kind word or gave even one dollar. Thank you.  

I offer my respects to each of my gurus at the Academy, especially Jananivas Prabhu and Nrisimha Kavacha Prabhu. I offer my respects to each of my fellow students, who taught me so much about humility, patience, tolerance, and respect.

I offer my gratitude to my spiritual master, Radhanath Swami, and to Srila Prabhupad. 

I pray that to repay this debt of love I may give to others what I have been given.  

***

If you are interested in attending or offering support to the Mayapur Academy, please visit mayapuracademy.org.

If you would like to give so that I may finish my time here in Mayapur, you can visit blossomofdevotion.com. Thank you.

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.

Wisdom of a Stranger

I sit on the porch of the Krishna House in Gainesville, reading. I look up from my book to the quiet street and see a man walk by. Something about his face speaks of such sadness, such... sorrow. I feel this urge in me to somehow walk out to him and hand him a plate of sanctified food, prasadam. Or ask him a question.


Something.


But he keeps walking by, and I feel very shy. How silly! Who am I to run out and start bombarding some stranger with food and questions?

He starts to disappear around a corner.

But a voice murmurs to me in my heart: When will this moment come again?

I put aside my book and dash off the porch, running towards the man. I call out, "Excuse me! Excuse me!"

The man turns, surprised to see a girl running towards him. "Yes?" he says gruffly.

When I reach him I say, "May I ask you a question?"

"Is this about parking?"

I take in his uniform, which I realize is a polo shirt which has embroidered on its front Parking Attendant. "Oh, no, this isn't about parking," I say.

"Then what? What's your question?"

I take in a deep breath. I look him in the eyes and say, "May I ask you what you feel is the purpose of your life?"

He furrows his eyebrows. "I need to work,"

"Work?"

"Yes, I need to go to work, I don't have time for this,"

"So you feel the purpose of your life is to work," I clarify for him.

"No," he says sardonically, "The purpose of my life is to be happy and make others happy,"

My eyes light up in wonder.

The man finishes, "Now if you'll excuse me I need to pay my rent,"

I fold my palms to him, smiling. "Thank you for your answer," And we part ways. I head back to the porch, reveling in the moment.

This parking attendant, who is a complete stranger to me, knows the purpose of his life. Just like that. The answer is clean and clear. His soul knows. I realize that we all know. The purpose of our lives is at the tip of each of our tongues. No need to force or debate or convince.

As the parking attendant put it so eloquently, "Be happy and make others happy."

Be happy and serve.

Something is amiss in this equation, though. I return to my spot on the porch to ponder. In my experience of this man, he was miserable. He knew and could speak the purpose of his life, and yet I did not experience him as aligned with his words.

I realize that to the degree that we're not aligned with our purpose, we cover it over with work. To the degree that we are not connected with the source of true happiness - God, Krishna - then we cover it over with work, work, work. Pleasure. Distractions.

I offer my respects to the man I met in the street today. He has taught me the simplicity of knowing the purpose of my life, and the lifelong adventure and challenge to align my knowing with my being.

And if I see this man again, the parking attendant, I think I shall go out and offer him a plate of prasadam.

(I feel moved to mention that this post is very much inspired by the Satvatove 3 course that I participated in this past weekend, which is facilitated by Dhira Govinda dasa (David Wolf) and Malini dasi (Marie Glasheen). I thank them for their guidance and compassion.)

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. 

The Eternal Question

The morning of Los Angeles Rathayatra, Mother Kosha Rupa approached me. "Bhakti, would you like to do an hour in the Question and Answer booth?"

I paused for a moment. LA Rathayatra is one of the largest Rathayatras in North America with outreach to thousands of people. The Question and Answer booth at this particular Rathayatra is an intense experience - crowds of people from Venice Beach flow in and out of the tent in waves and questions are asked that spark fires. In previous years, I've usually just passed by, even a little intimidated by the intensity.

But this Bus Tour is an adventure in surrender. So a smile blossomed on my face and I replied, "Yes, Mother Kosha Rupa, I would love to!"

So after the exhilarating parade down Venice Beach in the hot sun, I wove my way through the crazy crowds to the Q&A tent. I was introduced by the host, Akruranath Prabhu.

Then with a deep breath, I slowly sat down in the hot seat... and looked up to the crowd of people who faced me, their heads cocked with curiosity.

"So," I said. "Does anyone have a question?"

A man towards the back raised his hand. Sternness was written all over his face. He called out, "Why is God so great?"

I took a deep, deep breath. I felt the heat rise to my face. People kept gathering, stopping and crowding around the tent amidst the bustling Venice Beach sidewalks, curious to see what this young girl would say to such a question. I called out to my spiritual master and Prabhupad in the silence.

And then I spoke.

As I unraveled words that I didn't even know I had inside of me, the man's stern face slowly, slowly softened. At last I asked him, "Does that answer your question?"

His expression told me more than his words as he nodded, "Yes, yes it does."

That was just the warm-up question.

"Why is it implied in the Bhagavad Gita that women are less intelligent?"


"Is the Hare Krishna chant the only way to develop love of God?"


"Why have you fallen in love with Krishna?"

After one hour passed and I stepped aside for the next speaker, I felt a little woozy and unsteady on my feet, like I had just stepped off of an amusement park ride. Aaahh!! I had just been given license to dive into mysteries of the soul, existence, love, God, creation, and even the controversies of my faith. And at the times when I wanted to melt into a puddle on the floor, I called out to Srila Prabhupad and Radhanath Swami to please guide me. And the words that came out of my mouth were simply not my own.

I have attended countless Rathayatras over the years. And yet this LA Rathayatra, as I walked away from the tent amidst the bustling festival once again, I felt like I had just tumbled into a new world with fresh eyes.

As a friend of mine shared with me a couple days ago, "Life isn't so much about the answers we get but the questions we live in."

Krishna Consciousness is a question I want to live in forever. 

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.