Bliss in Pain

I have not danced in so long that the thrill has faded from my veins. The other night for Prthu's memorial, so many were present to honor him that we spontaneously began to dance. I danced my heart away, shrugging away the chronic tendonitis in my foot. Exhilaration in every sense of the word.

Afterwards, I went for a japa walk with Shalagram... and I had painful blisters on my feet. I didn't get it. Was it my shoes?

And then it hit me. Ahhhhh... yes. I used to dance so often, I had had the feet equivalent to the hands of a seasoned mridanga player. But as any mridanga player knows, cease to practice and those ugly yet tough hands become oh so soft.

I never knew blisters could be this blissful.

A note from home

I find myself reeling in silence.

I didn't want the Tour to end - I feel such a loss. Why?

The people. The japa retreat facilitators, Guru Prasad Swami, the devotees we encountered, the spiritually open locals, the awesome children wherever we went, and of course

those on the bus.

I miss you.

Una nota de Tulum

La Aventura.

A part of me wants to stay in this, keep going and going and going with this otherwordly experience. The people, the places, and the gloriously stuffy, cramped bus. Ah yes, the last time I came on the winter Bus Tour I felt this way: I don´t want to go home.

Not yet.

I feel so blessed to chill with every single person on this Tour. All 23 of us. And at the same time, I feel as though we´re all like straws in the ocean, coming together for this incredible bonding experience... only to drift away once again.

Whatever the case, I have some incredible adventures that I´m sure you´re dying to hear.

But right now I´m at an internet cafe in Tulum and I gotta run.

Una nota de La Ciudad

Crazy breakdowns. Travel all day. Crazy getting-to-know-you games - I think I know TOO much now [laugh].

We're IN La Ciudad... but we're lost. It's 4:40am... in the deserted streets, we find a cop, who escorts us to the temple's street. It's 4:50am. The bus is still trying to park and Manu calls out, "Go, go!! The curtains are going to close - go see the Deities!" so we jump off the moving bus. Forget your shoes, just GO - so we dash barefoot through the courtyard. I hear a mrdanga and voices.

We billow in and offer obeisance to the Deities. And ahhh... it's like soothing water flowing around me as I bask in the Deities and the quiet of this moment in contrast of the craziness of getting here... of finally, finally getting here.

We're leaving now - five minutes. The adventure has begun.

Sabbatical

For the purpose of winter traveling, I shall be out of the country... and very much out of internet access. A sabbatical, shall we say.

Although I sense very few people read this blog, I would like to appreciate all those who do and encourage me to continue. I find that inspired writing is the most wonderful to read and the most wonderful to write.

So... thank you.

And that's all she wrote.

Radha Madan Mohan: December 9th

My shelter.

Tour of Alachua (5 of 5): Where Love Resides

"Whenever you give your time, you are making a sacrifice, and sacrifice is the essence of love." Unknown


I remember the very night that Sayana Arati flew into my heart like a swift bird and has lived there ever since.

I had just moved to Alachua two years ago, and the gurukulis were holding a meeting in the lobby of the templeroom, discussing our involvement in the upcoming celebration of Srila Prabhupad's Appearance Day. And then, a conch shell clarioned through the evening.

"What? What is that?" I asked, taken aback.

"Oh, it's the last arati of the day before the deities go to sleep," Raghu explained. We all flowed into the templeroom.

In that warm cocoon, the only lights on in the room were shining from the altar, illuminating quiet faces. Someone was singing a bhajan a bit off-key, with only kartals to accompany his song. Radha Shyamasundar were wearing gentle, flowing clothes, with no jewelry or garlands.

I remember the feeling. Something blossomed in my heart - a tenderness for deities of Radha and Krishna that I had never really felt before in all my life growing up around Them.

When the curtains closed, I wanted to return the next night. And the next. But being the new kid on the block in Alachua with zero form of transportation and few connections, several months passed. When I had settled into my own home and bought a car, one evening I wandered over to the temple to chant japa.

And Sayana Arati caught me by gentle surprise once again.

Like chanting my rounds, Sayana Arati has become a part of my life. I give this time to bidding goodnight to Krishna and I feel as though Krishna reciprocates with this sacrifice of time by giving me a foundation to love Him. Although I love the discipline of chanting my rounds every day, which is also a sacrifice of time, Sayana Arati is completely on my own whim.

When I miss too many nights, I feel as though something is missing in my spiritual life.

Ah, yes, the essence of love.