98: Time I Am

My phone rang. I rolled over in the dark and fumbled around until I answered the call, "Hello?"  

"Hey Charles, a nurse in the Emergency Room is requesting a chaplain. A patient may be on his way out, and there's no family,"

"Anything else I should know?"

"The patient was mugged and shot. The bullet has been removed, but he's in critical condition,"

"I'll be there," I managed. My bleary eyes focused on the glowing alarm clock: 2:15am. I left the bedroom light off and swung my feet around to the cold wooden floor, pausing to ensure there was no movement or sound from my wife. We were expecting our first child, a son, in a few months, and my wife had been sleeping fitfully for weeks, usually made worse by the nights I was on call. I glanced at her face, took a breath, and crept out of the room. 

I brushed my teeth, shrugged on some clothes and a coat and made my way out into the streets of New York City. Dirty snow piled up along the sidewalks, and I breathed in icy air. If I wasn't awake before, I sure was by the time I flashed my ID at the security guard. 

Shot? No family? What had happened with this man? Questions kicked my mind. I reminded myself that finding out answers to my questions was not my job. My job was to be there for others in their suffering, to offer spiritual care in time of need through prayer, guidance, and above all, listening.  

When I listened, the questions would get answered. 

Or they would dissolve into the night.

I made my way through the dimly lit emergency room; I passed a woman with a mangled, swollen face, a man with bloodied jeans and an elevated leg wrapped in bandages, and other men and women with obvious and not-so-obvious pain. 

A few beds had curtains drawn around them. When I reached bed 88, I paused. I folded my palms. Help me God, I prayed. Help me, Krishna.  

I parted the curtain.  

A young man lay on the bed wearing a pale blue hospital gown, but I could see the edges of a white bandage that covered his upper right chest. His round, youthful face surprised me. Brow furrowed and eyes closed, his chest rose and fell somewhat unevenly. The beep of his heart rate monitor mingled with the monitors of others in nearby beds.

I approached the young man. Not wanting to wake him, I sat in one of the chairs next to the bed and folded my palms and prayed. 

Time passed by in strange, thick waves that night. At one point a nurse came in to fill me in on some more details and confirmed that the doctors had done all that they could. Although they had stabilized him as much as possible, the young man was declining - his heart had been irrevocably damaged.    

I stayed in the room, a coldness creeping into my limbs. Would this young man die alone here in Bed 88 of the Emergency Room? I mean, I was here. I resolved in those moments to stay until the end, even if I was no longer on my shift. But he had no family? Friends? 

"Who are you?" 

I started in my chair and turned to look at the curtains that had parted. A middle-aged woman stood there, her face drawn, her hair in ragged gray wisps. 

I stood. "I'm Charles Rossman, I'm with the spiritual care department," 

The woman regarded me warily. "Are you Christian?"

"Actually, I'm a Hindu chaplain,"

She frowned. "You don't look Hindu," 

I was quiet.

"But... thank you for coming. I'm Mrs. Graham," The woman's eyes landed on the young man and her face sagged. She stepped forward to his bed and wrapped her hands around his hand. "Matthew," she murmured. 

"I'll step out until you need me," I said.

"No," she turned to me, her face fierce. "Don't go, please,"

I bowed my head. "Sure, ma'am, I'll stay,"

She turned back to the patient and said, "My Matthew loved people. He would've wanted to have been surrounded by people at... this time." Tears began to pour down her face, her body wracked with gentle sobs. "Chaplain," she said, "I just got this news a few hours ago. I've been driving in the dark to get here, blinded by tears. I've had to pull over a few times to cry." The woman turned to me, her eyes bloodshot. "I can't even process that my son is dying. He is such a bright young man. You're spiritual care. Tell me something, anything," 

"The first step," he said gently, "Is to just be with your grief, even though your mind is so overwhelmed with grief*,"

"Grief is drying up my senses**, chaplain, it's hard to even see or hear you, or my son. I can't think straight,"

"For now, just be with your grief,"

"If I give in to grief, though, it seems like an ocean with no shore and I'll drown. I can't drown right now. I have to be here for my son. But I'm drowning. Please help me." The woman collapsed into a chair, her head in her hands. 

I had learned to stay afloat, to not drown in other people's grief. I had been a chaplain for over a decade - I had seen death come to babies, teenagers, middle-aged men and women, the elderly, and everyone in-between. Death could be heart-wrenching, confusing, terrifying, beautiful, profound - sometimes all those things at once. I had learned to be there for others with a gentle presence of compassion, and I had learned to let the emotions of death and suffering wash over me and away. I would not be able to function or live my life if I let each stroke of suffering and each death consume me. 

Unbidden, though, came the image of my wife resting in our bed, the light from the streetlamps filtering in to touch her face. Within her body, she carried our son. 

What if one day she received a call in the middle of the night like this? Decades of love poured into raising a good, strong man, our lives revolving around caring for him. The bonds of our hearts as strong as a thousand silk ropes.

Then with the shot of a gun, ripped away from us. Forever.

I began to sweat. My throat became dry. Silence smothered the room. 

"Chaplain?" Mrs. Graham said. She observed me, her face streaked with tears. 

The deaths I had witnessed or been a part of over the past ten years flooded my brain with images and sensations. So much pain. So much suffering. So much loss. I sucked in a breath. 

Now who's drowning? I thought. Trying to help a drowning man could mean drowning myself.

"Mrs. Graham, may I be excused?" 

She looked at me, wary and concerned. She nodded. 

I stepped outside of the curtained partition and took deep breaths. I walked away, down the emergency room past broken bodies and took a seat on the edge of the room. The deaths rushed at me, wave after wave. Not only the deaths of those I had experienced as a chaplain, but the death of my grandmother, the death of my cousin at the ocean one day, the death of a friend in college in a car accident, the deaths I had heard about in the news - school shootings, terrorist bombings, wars, earthquakes in Nepal... the deaths of entire species from overhunting and blazing fires that were overtaking the world more and more and the deaths of this choking earth.

My breaths became ragged again. My face was hot, I could feel wetness on my cheeks. I sipped air. 

In the midst of the flames of what I was seeing, the words I had been saying for so many years before I entered a room to help a patient or a patient's family surfaced: Krishna, help me.  

I grabbed onto those words. Krishna, I pleaded. How can this be? You are all good. You are supposed to be. 

A verse from the Bhagavad-gita spoke to me: Time I am, great destroyer of the worlds.*** 

Time. By dint of time, everyone was rushing into the mouth of death. Every single last one of us. No one would be spared - not me, my wife, or unborn child. We would all be destroyed. Not only living beings, but worlds. 

My chest began to shudder each time I drew breath, my hands trembled. The truth of death may be real, but the pain, the overwhelming pain of it all twisted me up. That young man did not deserve to die. Not like this. I buried my head in my hands. 

Krishna, help me. Soothe my heart. 

After seeing this form of yours as Time, my mind is disturbed with fear, Arjuna had spoken in the Gita. Please bestow Your grace upon me and reveal Your form as the Personality of Godhead, Krishna. ****

Behind my closed eyes came the image of Krishna - this Krishna was a deity who resided in a temple in the Lower East Side. He was made of white marble, about three feet tall. He held a flute to his lips, and a smile played on his face. His eyes soft. Luminous. Others might say He was a statue. To me, God had come in a form that I could see and exchange a glance with. 

The mahamantra, the prayer composed to Krishna and the divine feminine, Radha, flowed over my fever in cool waves, over and over again. 

Hare Krishna Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna Hare Hare,

Hare Rama Hare Rama, Rama Rama Hare Hare. 

I don't know how long I sat there, murmuring the mahamantra, my mind fixed on Krishna's beautiful form.

Still, the pull of my duty commanded me to stand up, do my job. Be there for others. Care for others.

With a deep, shuddering breath, I rose to my feet. I went to the restroom to wash my face, and then set my feet back to Bed 88. 

"Hello," I said from the other side of the curtain. 

"Yes?" Mrs. Graham responded.

"May I come in?"

"Yes," she said. 

I parted the curtain. Mrs. Graham was gazing at the face of her son, a hungry expression turning her features raw. "He's going to leave soon," she said, "I can feel it." She turned to me. "What can we do?"

She did not mean what could the two of us do to save him. What could we do to... to care for him in the deepest sense. 

"We can pray," 

The woman scoffed, but tears softened the harsh sound. "I don't believe in prayer," but a look of desperation fell over her when she turned to the face of her son. "But I have to try something. We. We have to try something to..." 

"I can pray in silence, if you prefer," I said, coming closer and taking a seat next to her. My inner tempest had calmed to the stillness of a lake. 

"No, no, Matthew should hear your prayer," she paused, then looked over at me. "You said you were a Hindu chaplain. What kind of prayers do Hindus do?" 

"The foremost prayer we make is one of love, a kind of calling out to God, to Krishna, with all of our hearts,"

The woman's eyes softened for the first time, and silence fell around us, only punctuated by the erratic beeps of the heart monitor. 

"Whatever it is you do in your tradition," she said, "I give you permission to do it with all of your heart," 

I hesitated. Whatever we do in our tradition? Would it be... improper at this time? Unsuitable?

But Mrs. Graham was looking at me expectantly. Now was not the time to debate propriety and details. 

So I looked over at Matthew, whose brows were furrowed, and sang the mahamantra. I sang in a soft tone, a gentle, simple melody. I circled to Matthew's right side and held his hand while his mother held the other. I brought to mind the image of Krishna and sang and sang. Tears poured down Mrs. Graham's face in silence and stillness.   

Matthew's heart rate became irregular and slowed. The furrow smoothed on his face, the tension I could feel in his fingers dissolved. I sang, my voice becoming hoarse, but I continued on. 

Then, the young man took a breath and exhaled. He did not inhale again. The heart monitor flatlined. Mrs. Graham closed her eyes. "Take care of him, take care of him," she murmured. 

I sang one last mahamantra and then fell quiet, holding Matthew's still-warm hand. 

*1.46

**2.7

***11.32

****11.45

Note: This story was inspired by my husband's line of work as a hospital and hospice chaplain, as well as Arjuna's experience of viewing Krishna's universal form in chapter 11. In this section, Arjuna views the flaming rivers of death and is utterly terrified, and Krishna tells him that He is time, destroyer of the worlds. Arjuna asks to be pacified, and Krishna eventually reveals to His friend his beautiful, two-armed form as Krishna once again. 

96: Reflections on Austerity

 Creative Expression: Sharing realizations spontaneously 

Bhagavad-gita, Chapter 16, Texts 1-3

Full text here: https://vedabase.io/en/library/bg/16/1-3/

91: Happiness - Nectar -> Poison

 

CHAPTER 18, TEXT 38: That happiness which is derived from contact of the senses with their objects and which appears like nectar at first but poison at the end is said to be of the nature of passion.

Full purport here: https://vedabase.io/en/library/bg/18/38/

85: The Rising Sun of Faith

Creative Expression: Personal Narrative

When I was 12 years old, I developed a chronic and painful physical condition. 

Three years later at the age of 15, I Googled symptoms. I saw that there was a high chance that my condition was cancer. (Note to self: never Google symptoms.) 

Six months to a year to live. 

My mind went numb. At fifteen, I had planned to travel to literally every single country in the world, establish schools, produce albums, write books, etc. etc. But when I read this potential death sentence, all of those plans imploded in my brain. 

I walked around in a daze for weeks. Food tasted like sawdust. I didn't talk to anyone - I didn't want the pity of friends, the worry of my parents, the skepticism or interrogation or healing suggestions from adults.

What I wanted was solace. I wanted peace. I wanted to know my purpose in this short life, where I would go when I died, and if I would even go anywhere. 

Who was I?

On our bookshelf at home sat this large book, which had been given as a gift: 

Regardless of this being a "children's book," all the illuminations are taken directly from The Bhagavad-gita As It Is, translations by Bhaktivedanta Swami. One would think scripture is reserved only for scholars or adults, but this book defied that notion. 

One day, I read this illumination: 

Never was there a time when I did not exist, nor you, nor all these kings; nor in the future shall any of us cease to be. (2.12)

These words rung within my being as the truest words I had ever heard in my entire life. My body filled with the solace and peace I had been yearning for. I remember sitting there and gazing at this illumination, gazing at Krishna's beautiful face, the ornate lettering, the drawings. I felt illuminated from within.

At the time of my greatest need, I felt as though someone had reached out to hold me in warm, gentle hands. 

My physical condition lasted for many painful years, and even with many doctors and tests, we never figured out what it was. One day, the symptoms began to fade and they never returned. 

What has remained with me until this day, 18 years later, is the unshakeable faith that I am an eternal spirit soul. Whether I die tomorrow in a car accident, ten years from now from cancer, or fifty years from now from an old and broken body, my soul will go on. The souls of my loved ones will always go on. Our souls shall exist forever.  

Now, there are 700 verses in this ancient scripture, and maybe I don't understand or have faith in them all. 

But I have faith in this one. No one and nothing can take away my faith in this verse, not even death. 

Like the sun that is rising over the horizon of the ocean that starts out just as a little dot of bright orange, as time goes on that dot becomes a slice, and the slice becomes a semicircle, and on and on until the sun is rising in brilliant rays that light up the world. 

This is how I feel about my faith in only one verse of the Bhagavad-gita. 

The light of faith from one verse has been lighting up the other verses in this text, lighting up other texts in the bhakti tradition, lighting up the words and teachings of spiritual teachers in my own tradition, lighting up the teachers and scriptures and traditions of other spiritual paths of the world, and ultimately 

lighting up my own heart and mind to love and serve God and God's devotees. 

Just one verse. 

So I am grateful to my painful condition for coming into my life at such a young age. I am grateful for Google's morbid (and inaccurate!) diagnosis. 

I am grateful for the book, Illuminations from the Bhagavad-gita, by Kim and Chris Murray, for granting me the most priceless diamond of my existence: faith in my eternal soul. 

(A link for the book: https://www.amazon.com/Illuminations-Bhagavad-Gita-Kim-Waters/dp/1886069212/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2XJYOEGEPCZ9O&dchild=1&keywords=illuminations+from+the+bhagavad+gita&qid=1608771223&sprefix=illuminations+from+the+bh%2Caps%2C308&sr=8-1)

79: Levels of Happiness

CHAPTER 18, TEXT 38: That happiness which is derived from contact of the senses with their objects and which appears like nectar at first but poison at the end is said to be of the nature of passion. 

Krishna is describing the different kinds of  happiness within the modes of nature. I created the below chart as a map to understanding the patterns of how things begin and how things end. 

	Goodness (sattva)	Passion (rajas)	Ignorance (tamas)
Beginning	poison	nectar	poison
End	nectar	poison	poison

An example of happiness in the mode of goodness (sattva) is a college education. Working for a college degree means paying a lot of money for years and years without any income - this often means living in a simple place with simple food, going to class at sometimes early times of the day or late at night after work, hours upon hours of homework, grueling projects and exams, [often] unpaid internships, and more. 

This is like poison. 

But in the end, the nectar of knowledge, a degree, and improved job prospects is what makes college worth it for most people. People with college degrees have been shown to earn more income not only for themselves but for society at large (aplu.org), they have a greater chance of staying married (pewresearch.com), and they are even less likely to be obese and to just have greater health overall (https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/). This is the "nectar" of happiness in the mode of goodness.

Happiness in the mode of passion is nectar at first and poison in the end. The classic example that Prabhupad gives is - you guessed it - falling in "love." He writes, "A young man and a young woman meet, and the senses drive the young man to see her, to touch her and to have sexual intercourse." This is considered to be "nectar," a source of pleasure, excitement, and all-consuming absorption. Some dating apps exist solely to facilitate this kind of happiness in the mode of passion - meeting and having sex. Prabhupad continues, "In the beginning this may be very pleasing to the senses, but at the end, or after some time, it becomes just like poison. They are separated or there is divorce, there is lamentation, there is sorrow, etc." I once read an article about a woman who had just had sex with a man through using the dating app Tinder and as she was getting dressed he was already swiping through his phone again, looking for the next meet-up. She was appalled, but what could she say? What right did she have to be appalled? The sorrow of this woman and women and men who have used the app or engaged in this pattern is pervasive. 

This is poison. 

While Tinder is a crude example, it is also very relevant to Prabhupad's purport and today's reality.

Something about the fact that happiness in the mode of passion starts off as nectar makes it addictive. We HAD an experience of that pleasure, that high, but we lost it. So if only I would try again, and again, and again... maybe the nectar will last. 

But it never lasts. 

Prabhupad writes, "Happiness derived from a combination of the senses and the sense objects is always a cause of distress and should be avoided by all means." This means that enjoying the objects of my senses with my eyes and ears and hands and tongue is temporary and always fades. 

And quickly. 

How long does the act of sex last? How long can one eat an ice cream cone? How long can one watch Game of Thrones or how many new phones or houses or cars can one buy? The temporary nature of this happiness is what causes distress. The pleasure is there, it's there! And then poof - gone. So this happiness is nectar in the beginning and poison in the end. 

And finally, happiness in the mode of ignorance is poison in the beginning and poison in the end. 

One may wonder how on earth one could experience happiness by tasting poison in the beginning. Wouldn't you just stop even trying for that kind of happiness if it's so poisonous, even from the first taste?

This is the mode of ignorance, though. As I have come to think of ignorance, it is not just "not knowing" something. Ignorance means ignoring something. This implies an active turning away from knowledge, understanding, and growth. 

So in this context, one ignores the poison - the pain, the discomfort, the burn - of that first sip of alcohol, first puff of cigarette, or first taste of meat as a child (https://family-medicine.ca/). With enough ignoring, one even begins to enjoy that poison. The word used in verse 39 is the word sukham, or happiness. 

An example of this kind of happiness is alcohol. I have only ever tasted one drop of alcohol. When I was about thirteen years old, I went to a party with middle school friends and there was beer. I tried a drop and then kind of spit it back out. I never tried it again.  

Alcohol is always some kind of fermented grain or fruit or vegetable, which means that it's rotting. This process of decomposing is in the mode of ignorance - the mode of goodness means maintenance and the mode of passion means creation, but destruction is the mode of ignorance. This is why, traditionally, fermented foods are prohibited in Vaishnava tradition, or they are not recommended or offerable to Krishna.  

Of course, alcohol has been enjoyed around the world for millennia. Still, according to this definition of happiness in the mode of ignorance, alcohol fits the bill. It is poison in the beginning, and while one may still experience happiness from this poison (loosening up inhibitions, relaxing etc), it is still poison in the end - throwing up, headaches, and lack of consciousness or awareness of one's words or actions. In more severe cases if alcohol or any drug use becomes an addiction, one's body can begin to sour, or one's character can even rot through abusive language or behavior. Addiction can lead one to feeling trapped into using the substance to function or numb the pain or maybe to even feel alive. 

Krishna describes happiness in these three modes of nature, but ultimately, we are meant to transcend happiness in any of these modes, we're meant to come to a kind of happiness to "which [we] sometimes come to the end of all distress" (18.36). We're meant to experience happiness that is nectar in the beginning and nectar in the end. This kind of happiness can only be experienced by transcending the modes of nature and this world and coming to God, to Krishna. We're meant to end our distress by loving and serving God. 

Of course, if we're not there yet, we can at least look at these verses to get a sense of "Okay, what mode of happiness am I primarily in right now? How can I elevate my approach to happiness?" 

If I'm in the mode of ignorance, how can I elevate to the mode of passion?   

If I'm in the mode of passion, how can I elevate to the mode of goodness?

If I'm in the mode of goodness, how do I elevate to suddha-sattva (pure goodness) by serving and loving Krishna? 

Full purport here: https://vedabase.io/en/library/bg/18/38/

77: Description, Not Condemnation

CHAPTER 18, TEXT 28: The worker who is always engaged in work against the injunctions of the scripture, who is materialistic, obstinate, cheating and expert in insulting others, and who is lazy, always morose and procrastinating is said to be a worker in the mode of ignorance.

There is something very, very fascinating about how Krishna phrases His words in this verse. Well, not only this verse but any verse that describes types of people within the modes of natures. 

He does not instruct.  

He does not condemn.

He simply describes. 

Sure, the words "obstinate" and "lazy" sound judgmental, but Krishna is not judgmental or petty in that way. He is objectively describing the mental habits and behavior of a worker who is cocooned within the mode of ignorance. 

To be honest? I find myself being described here. But I don't feel condemned by God. In fact, I feel understood. 

I feel understood for my habits of working in a lazy and morose way and constantly procrastinating. Prabhupad writes, "[Workers in the mode of ignorance] procrastinate; anything which can be done in an hour they drag on for years." I had to laugh at this statement, because I find such truth here. I can pull up a list in my mind of projects or "to-do"s that could be completed literally within an hour, but they go on uncompleted, year after year. 

When I read this verse of the Gita I feel as though I am looking into the mirror. I see more clearly that, ah yes, I am often a worker in the mode of ignorance. 

So I'll start there, by simply saying that I resonate with this verse, and I do not feel condemned, but understood. 

Consequently, and naturally, I feel this lacking within my heart, this sense that I want to not be in the mode of ignorance. I want to be described in a different way. I do. 

My next point now has to deal with the world that I observe around me, especially on social media. 

1) I've begun to notice how there seems to be a confusion about what should be done and what should not be done. Recently I've seen some women share about the deep pain and challenge of motherhood. And while I understand that that's a reality, still... it's a stage of life. Billions of women have endured motherhood for millennia, how come suddenly motherhood is so shocking? Granted, I am not a mother, and I sound like I am condemning women for complaining about the challenge. Still, this verse from the Gita mentions that one who is "always morose" implies someone who is working with a kind of dread, frustration, and resisting the reality of one's duty day after day. While moroseness and the pain and challenge of motherhood is natural, to hang out in that space for a prolonged period of time seems to be resisting one's duty and to be working in the mode of ignorance. 

2) I am seeing a lack of gentility in communication, and a prevalence of cutting insults towards others. I see name-calling, such as "racist", "neo-Nazi", "Karen", "white supremacist", "Uncle Tom", "baby-killers", "snowflake", "wimp" and more. Name-calling is a kind of laziness, labeling others in a way that demeans and disrespects without much consideration. Prabhupad writes that "Such workers are not very gentle, and generally they are always cunning and expert in insulting others." In fact, this brashness and cutting personality is even glorified in modern media. Youtube videos of personalities who condemn and name-call others are wildly popular. The problem with this new kind of gossip and name-calling is that it's out of touch with humanity. If we were all to relate with each other personally, one-on-one, this kind of painful communication would hurt and maim others in a deep way.

3) I am also seeing a kind of obstinate way of dealing with authority, a kind of obnoxious "push back" against being told what to do, especially according to any kind of scriptural injunction (which this verse of the Gita mentions). Authority is rejected and generally seen as an oppressive force that should be questioned at all times. At no point should authority be accepted and respected in any kind of deep way. This obstinate nature and refusal to accept authority is a trademark of workers in the mode of ignorance. 

This post started out by saying that Krishna does not condemn workers in the mode of ignorance. Sure, His language is strong, but he is simply describing the truth of workers in this mode, just as he describes workers in the modes of passion and goodness. Krishna does not even instruct us to work in the mode of goodness. 

He leaves it up to us. 

We read how these workers are described. We look in the mirror and nod when we resonate. 

And we make our own choice: what kind of worker do I want to be? 

Okay, okay, show me the description of the worker in the mode of goodness. Let's do this. Because... that's how I want to be described. I want to look in the mirror and see that person. 

So here it is: https://vedabase.io/en/library/bg/18/26/

***

Full purport here: https://vedabase.io/en/library/bg/18/28/

76: Bodily Discomfort

CHAPTER 18, TEXT 8: Anyone who gives up prescribed duties as troublesome or out of fear of bodily discomfort is said to have renounced in the mode of passion. Such action never leads to the elevation of renunciation.

Waking up early in the morning - before the sun rises - to engage in spiritual habits like mantra meditation and devotional singing is considered a foundation for building a strong spiritual practice and consequently a strong spiritual life. 

Let's be honest: waking up early can make for a lot of "bodily discomfort." 

That moment when the alarm rights at 5am? Man. I used to wake up at 5am for years when I taught in New York City, and I kind of got used to it... but not really. Most mornings coming to consciousness was like rising out of molasses, and climbing out of a warm bed into a cold room was as good as scaling Mount Rainier. 

Despite the bodily discomfort, did I do my duty? Yes sir. I woke up. I did mantra meditation. I took a shower and got ready for work and left the apartment often before the sun had even risen. 

But now that I am taking time off from work, right now the prospect of rising early is as palatable and practical as scaling Mount Rainier... in my pajamas. 

That said, Krishna emphasizes in this verse that prescribed duties should not be given up. Prabhupad expands on this point by saying that, "If by ... rising early in the morning one can advance his transcendental Kṛṣṇa consciousness, one should not desist out of fear or because such activities are considered troublesome. Such renunciation is in the mode of passion." Right now I could probably say that I have renounced the activity of rising early in the morning in order to advance my Krsna consciousness. Without work to speed me on, I find no need to swim through molasses and climb a mountain just to do mantra meditation that I end up falling asleep trying to do. That said, renouncing this activity out of bodily discomfort is in the mode of passion, and Prabhupad says that, "The result of passionate work is always miserable." 

I can feel that. I can feel that waking up later, at around 7:30am, is a kind of meek and mundane way to trod through life. Even miserable.  

Forcing myself to follow my prescribed duties or what I know I "should" do has just lead me down a lot of Heartbreak Highways and Dutiful Dead-ends. I am striving to be more compassionate with myself, but it's hard.

I know the highest standard. This verse and Prabhupad say it all quite clearly.  

I'm just not there.

For now. 

And that's all I can do right now. No forcing, just accepting. 

Full purport here: https://vedabase.io/en/library/bg/18/8/

75: The Goal of Marriage

CHAPTER 18, TEXT 5: Acts of sacrifice, charity and penance are not to be given up; they must be performed. Indeed, sacrifice, charity and penance purify even the great souls.

Sacrifice is a loaded word. 

The image that comes to mind is of Abraham being willing to sacrifice Isaac, to kill his own son because God told him to. While this story is rich with spiritual significance, I must confess I find it hard to connect to this biblical story because of the extreme demands placed upon this sincere and trusting father. 

The definition of sacrifice is "to surrender or give up, or permit injury or disadvantage to, for the sake of something else" (dictionary.com) which is the story of Abraham and Isaac in a nutshell - Abraham was willing to surrender and permit injury to his son for the sake of following the orders of God. Abraham passed the test of surrender and was allowed to sacrifice a lamb in Isaac's stead. 

But the story haunts me. 

Do I have that level of faith in God's instructions?

Uh, no.  

Would I have faith in a God who demanded me to kill my son? 

I don't know. 

Which brings us back to the point that sacrifice is a loaded word - sacrifice seems to demand much from us, maybe even beyond our capabilities. 

Which begs the question, then: Why on earth would anyone sacrifice anything at all? 

Krishna says: To purify our hearts. 

Certainly Abraham was put in the fire of faith, and he was forced to throw all of his doubts into that fire, and those doubts burned to ashes. He was purified and cleansed. 

This verse from the Gita emphasizes that "sacrifice, charity, and penance" are essential to living a cultured, elevated life and should not be given up. These actions all emphasize one's willingness to surrender and give up one's time, money, energy, and being for the sake of something else. That "something else" in this case is to become pure. 

Sacrifice, penance, and even purity are all rather abstract. 

So Prabhupad gets concrete: marriage. He writes, "The marriage ceremony, for example, is considered to be one of these sacrifices. It is called vivāha-yajña." Marriage is a sacrifice - something that we surrender to, maybe even permit injury to ourselves or others (??) for the sake of something else. Maybe this is not us being willing to kill our own son for the sake of following God's orders, so what is that "something else" that we're surrendering to in marriage? 

Why on earth does the institution of marriage even exist? 

The most accurate available evidence suggests that the institution of marriage has been around for over 4,000 years (theweek.org). Marriage negotiations and ceremonies characterize ancient civilizations from all over the world. This shows that marriage is an integral aspect to human civilization, and we must conclude that it benefits human welfare. 

Why? Well, the most logical response is that marriage has always been more of a business deal than a romantic fairy tale, benefitting (quite frankly) men. Women were bartered like property and dowry prices were negotiated like sacks of wheat. From a historical perspective, it seems that women got the bad end of the stick and were abused and treated like animals for millennia in archaic marriage systems. 

But Krishna says here, 5,000 years ago, that "any sacrifice which is meant for human welfare should never be given up," and marriage is one of those sacrifices. Krishna is not only speaking on behalf of men who are doing all the bartering and arranging. Women are human beings also, and He is speaking on their behalf - marriage benefits women.

Marriage is a sacrifice, a surrender, a kind of austerity, or a "voluntary suffering" for both men AND women, and these kinds of activities generate power and cleanse the heart. Cleansing the human heart of lust, anger, and greed is meant for the true welfare and upliftment of society, not just economical advantages that can be gained and lost with a turning of the moon. True upliftment of society and human welfare means that the human mind and heart is cleansed and becomes peaceful. Prabhupad writes, "Vivāha-yajña, the marriage ceremony, is meant to regulate the human mind so that it may become peaceful for spiritual advancement." This is the goal of any sacrifice or austerity: spiritual advancement. 

In modern times, marriage has become obsessively centered around "love." I must confess, I always wanted to marry someone I "loved" and I wanted to ensure we loved each other for our whole lives. 

But the deeper significance to wanting to love and be loved within a marriage 'til death do we part is this even deeper desire and goal for divine, pure love - a loving, eternal relationship with God. This is a spiritual goal, something that cannot be experienced in a worldly relationship. But by being in a healthy marriage, we learn how to cleanse and purify our hearts, which makes us peaceful and open to spiritual advancement. That is the goal of marriage. 

Full purport here: https://vedabase.io/en/library/bg/18/5/

First recorded marriage: https://theweek.com/articles/528746/origins-marriage#:~:text=The%20first%20recorded%20evidence%20of,Hebrews%2C%20Greeks%2C%20and%20Romans.

73: The Heat of Speaking (and not speaking!)

CHAPTER 17, TEXT 15: Austerity of speech consists in speaking words that are truthful, pleasing, beneficial, and not agitating to others, and also in regularly reciting Vedic literature.

"Austerity" is one of those arcane words that kind of has the average person going, "Huh?"

Either "austerity" is a foreign word or concept, or there are some vague connections to being rigid, extreme simplicity, or, as Oxford Languages puts it, "conditions characterized by severity, sternness, or asceticism." This last definition comes the closest to the original meaning of austerity. 

But none of these point to why on earth anyone would undergo extreme simplicity, sternness or asceticism. No one in their right mind really wants to be an ascetic. In fact, austerity seems rather like self-harm (masochism)!

The Sanskrit word used in this verse is "tapa" which translates literally as "heat." This is because doing austerity generates a kind of heat, a personal power (or shakti) that ripples out into one's life. 

This is the phenomenon of performing voluntary suffering - we are empowered to achieve a result.

In this way, most of us have all performed austerity for some reason or other - attending school and completing all that homework in order to receive a diploma, putting in overtime hours at a job to make extra money, working out at the gym in order to get a shapely body.   

This is a law of the material world, just like the law of karma. Anyone who undergoes voluntary suffering generates power. This law can be applied in dark ways in order to gain power over others and to reach some exploitative goal, or this law can be applied in auspicious ways in order to be empowered to serve and love others with a clean and open heart. 

For text 15 of chapter 17, we see that Krishna is describing austerity of speech in the mode of goodness. What's fascinating about the wording of this verse is that to be truthful, pleasing, and beneficial in one's speech is austerity - voluntary suffering.

How could be speaking in a truthful and pleasing way be voluntary suffering? 

Because speaking in a deceitful and unpleasant and purposeless way is the default in this world. It's so easy. 

Too easy. 

To speak in a truthful, pleasing, and beneficial way takes hard work. It's depriving us of the delicious and easy tendency to gossip, complain, vent anger, blame, and criticize others. Prabhupad emphasizes that "One should not speak in such a way as to agitate the minds of others." But it's so easy to speak in such a way to agitate the minds of others! So easy! 

Especially loved ones. We know their soft and vulnerable spots - with a well-aimed word we could incite agitation and pain in their minds and hearts. Just a word.

In this verse, Krishna does not give any advice about how to speak; He simply shares the nature of austerity of speech and what it looks like. In a way, He leaves it up to us to decide what we wish to create with our personal power. 

To refrain from speaking words that agitates others is actually voluntary suffering and generates power. 

By being austere in our speech, our hearts become powerful and strong, the heat of austerity coming back to nourish us and strengthen us to love and be loved at our highest potential. 

Full purport here: https://vedabase.io/en/library/bg/17/15/

55: Just Be Kind

CHAPTER 12, TEXT 15: He by whom no one is put into difficulty and who is not disturbed by anyone, who is equipoised in happiness and distress, fear and anxiety, is very dear to Me.

Brutal honesty is overrated. 

I used to think that if I was in a close relationship with someone, that was a blank check to be "brutally honest" because, hey, honesty is the foundation for true friendship and love. I allowed others to be honest with me to the point of pain because I thought that that was healthy. 

And to a certain degree, it can be. 

The problem with brutal honesty is that without the skills or a deep enough relationship, it just often ends up being brutal. All that truth hurts and drives splinters and knives into a relationship. I speak from experience when I say that the relationship does not recover. 

This "brutal honesty" towards our loved ones is one way that we can put others into difficulty and disturb their hearts and minds. Personally, I have rarely ever felt moved to deeper understanding and personal growth from someone being brutally honest with me, even if that person was a very intimate friend or family member.

I just feel hurt. 

I am most moved when someone is kind to me.

In this verse of the Gita, Krishna emphasizes a kind of deep equanimity and peacefulness that should permeate our lives. The first phrase, "He by whom no one is put into difficulty," is poignant for this post. Not putting others into difficulty often boils down to a simple quality to exemplify at all times to all people: kindness. 

So much is included in the quality of kindness: respect, care, attention, empathy, gentleness, and even love. Prabhupad writes, "Since a devotee is kind to everyone, he does not act in such a way as to put others into anxiety." This means that the default should be kindness - respect, care, and empathy - for everyone at all times. 

Chaitanya Mahaprabhu emphasizes in the Siksastakam Prayers, Verse 3 "amanina manadena" - one should offer all respect unto others and expect none in return. Kindness and respect is not superficial, a  mask to put on to people-please. In fact, to offer respect and kindness towards others at all times requires a deep expression of the soul, and this sincere striving to cultivate one's highest qualities is very pleasing to Krishna - He states in this verse that such a person is "very dear to Me." 

I think of my husband in this regard. He is kind and respectful to everyone at all times, including me, and we have been in a relationship for seven years. Even though we are close, he never takes advantage of this closeness to be "brutally honest." 

He is honest AND kind - he does not put me into difficulty. By his unconditional kindness he moves me to be the best person I can be every day. Surely he is dear to Krishna. 

He inspires me to be dear to Krishna, too. That starts with being kind to all. 

Full purport here: https://vedabase.io/en/library/bg/12/15/

Day 31: A Really Good Question

CHAPTER 6, TEXT 38: O mighty-armed Kṛṣṇa, does not such a man, who is bewildered from the path of transcendence, fall away from both spiritual and material success and perish like a riven cloud, with no position in any sphere?

Arjuna has received instructions about the nature of the soul and  the supreme value of pursuing the spiritual path. These instructions are so logical and make so much sense, it's difficult to deny that the ultimate goal of human life is to set one's mind on Krishna and offer one's very self in devotional service.

But Arjuna has a doubt.

This goal is so high - love of God - that it seems unattainable.

So Arjuna is wondering - on behalf of all of us - if I fall from the spiritual path, where will I fall?

What's more, if one is on the spiritual path, then maybe material life is neglected. So not only would someone fail at spiritual life, s/he would fail at material life too. Double whammy! Prabhupad writes: "If the aspiring transcendentalist fails, then he apparently loses both ways; in other words, he can enjoy neither material happiness nor spiritual success." This is a lose-lose situation, and it's a possibility for each and every one of us:

Failure.

No progress, no success, no belonging, just...

You failed.

Prabhupad defines the term "riven cloud":  "A cloud in the sky sometimes deviates from a small cloud and joins a big one. But if it cannot join a big one, then it is blown away by the wind and becomes a nonentity in the vast sky." Note that the cloud may start off in a smaller cloud - this represents being in the material world, with relatively small goals and small aspirations. When a cloud breaks off to join a bigger cloud, this represents the soul's desire to achieve something much grander than itself. But when the cloud fails to belong in that spiritual place - the soul is "bewildered on the path of transcendence" - then it wanders and dissolves into nothingness. It belongs neither here nor there - it is "riven."

Arjuna's fears strike a deep chord. Not only do humans want to succeed in an endeavor, they also need to belong. Karyn Hall, Ph.D. writes in her article "Create a Sense of Belonging" in Psychology Today, "A sense of belonging is a human need, just like the need for food and shelter." The possibility that one may not belong anywhere and simply dissolve into a "nonentity" is a frightening prospect indeed. We're hardwired to be connected to something bigger than ourselves. But the problem is that we could fail to belong, and we could fail to succeed in life. 

In his question, Arjuna is expressing some of our deepest fears: failure and belonging nowhere.

Don't you notice that when a question is good, like, really good, we want to know the answer? Well, now we're set up. We want to know.

So let's lean in and hear what Krishna has to say.


Full Purport by Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupad here: https://vedabase.io/en/library/bg/6/38/

Hall, Karyn. “Create a Sense of Belonging.” Psychology Today, Sussex Publishers, 24 Mar. 2014, www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/pieces-mind/201403/create-sense-belonging.

22: Open Heart Surgery

CHAPTER 4, TEXT 34: Just try to learn the truth by approaching a spiritual master. Inquire from him submissively and render service unto him. The self-realized souls can impart knowledge unto you because they have seen the truth.

My husband works at a hospital as a chaplain, or a spiritual caregiver; the other day, he mentioned how one of the patients he has been visiting for a year and a half, Paul (pseudonym), received news that he will be receiving a heart transplant. Finally.

Paul was on the road to death but is now being given the opportunity to leave the hospital to continue living his life as a wonderful husband and father of two boys.

When I heard this, several thoughts passed through my mind: 1) someone had just died unexpectedly - someone young - who had been willing to donate their organs, 2) that person's heart was going to be cut out of his/her chest, 3) Paul's current heart was going to be cut out of his chest, 4) the other person's heart was going to be placed in Paul's chest. This sounds rather gory and graphic, but really, think about it. An old heart for a new heart.

And then my mind went to 5) who is the person who would complete this surgery?

???

A heart transplant surgery seems to be the equivalent of a modern miracle, and I have not the slightest idea how one would even begin to go about such a task. What I know for sure, though, is that the surgeon who will perform this "miracle" has studied for years and years and years and has practiced medicine in a residency with other advanced surgeons for years and years and years.

Similarly, spiritual life is a complex science that requires daily, challenging application.

How does one respond to the sudden loss of a loved one?

How does one respond to betrayal?

Humiliation?

Failure?

How does one respond to crisis? Hardship? Suffering?

Being able to respond with integrity in each of these situations is as complex and intense as conducting heart surgery. If mastery of a material science, such as medicine, requires years and years of study and supervised practice, why would mastery of spiritual life be any different?

Srila Prabhupad writes in his purport to this verse that mental speculation, dry arguments, independent study of books of knowledge, and/or manufacturing one's own process do not lead to spiritual realization or progress. Imagine if a surgeon simply studied books of medicine, or theorized about the function of the heart, or maybe even invented his own heart surgery transplant procedure - this would be ludicrous! Dangerous! Similarly, spiritual life is meant to be be studied and practiced under the supervision of those who know much more than we do. Spiritual life is meant to come from an authorized source with an authorized practice.

Deciding to approach a teacher for guidance is a great hallmark of material AND spiritual progress, and the mood to do so is laid out here: 1) inquire submissively, and 2) render service.

Inquiry does not always mean asking questions - true inquiry means to be vulnerable and to open the heart to truth.

Rendering service to a teacher demonstrates that "yes, I am ready to receive the truth from you and put these principles into practice." Service shows sincerity.

With these two elements, submissive inquiry and sincere service, the teacher is satisfied, and when a teacher is satisfied, blessings flow. Sometimes I wonder how certain people can go through life with such resilience, blossoming and glowing with growth on the spiritual path even when faced with so many hardships. Prabhupad writes, "Satisfaction of the self-realized spiritual master is the secret of advancement in spiritual life." So, this is their secret: satisfying the spiritual teacher through inquiry and service. In fact, "Unless there is submission and service, inquiries from the learned spiritual master will not be effective."  This shows that the student must be responsible for preparing his or her heart to receive the truth, like having fertile ground for the seed of devotion to unfurl.

That said, inquiry should not be combative or forceful or speculative, and service should not be rendered to just anyone. This makes the soil of the heart rocky, dry, and acidic. Inquiry needs to be humble and thoughtful, and service rendered should be carefully done within one's means. Prabhupad writes, "In this verse, both blind following and absurd inquiries are condemned." Striking this sincere and mature balance of inquiry and service is all a part of our own "spiritual residency."

* 

Ultimately, you could say that the spiritual path is about replacing our old and diseased and failing material heart with a fresh and healthy and vibrant spiritual heart. We are in the process of our own heart surgery - and we are the surgeons. This is what's at stake - our hearts. Our lives.

In order to undergo such a precarious transformation, we need to take shelter of knowledge that is far beyond our own understanding. We need to be guided by those whose hands are much more capable and experienced than ours.

And when the hardships come, because they will come, we can respond with that spiritual heart, the glowing, vibrant heart that is resilient beyond anything in this world.

Image by Jakobbelbin Tattoo Artist

Full purport by A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupad for Chapter 4, Verse 34 here: https://vedabase.io/en/library/bg/4/34/