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. 

95: Offer With Love and Devotion

 Creative Expression: Bhagavad-gita, Chapter, Verse 26

Full text here: https://vedabase.io/en/library/bg/9/26/

89: Grasping the Universal Form

Creative Expression: Image Analysis

CHAPTER 11, TEXT 19: You are without origin, middle or end. Your glory is unlimited. You have numberless arms, and the sun and moon are Your eyes. I see You with blazing fire coming forth from Your mouth, burning this entire universe by Your own radiance. 

The painting above is such a beautiful meditation on this verse of the Gita. The artist captures such vast concepts with a fascinating flair. 

Notice that the "origin", "middle", and "end" are represented in the kinds of water and earth in the bottom middle of the painting. The "origin" of things in this material world is the mode of passion (rajas) which is on the bottom left, represented by the plumes of a volcano creating an island and waterfalls and rivers. The "middle" is the mode of goodness (sattva), which is represented by vast, flat plains and the gentle valleys in the middle. Also, Lord Vishnu presides over the mode of goodness (the "middle") and if you look closely you can see Him resting on a bed of divine snakes (ananta-shesha) in the top right hand corner. The "end" is the mode of ignorance (tamas) which is represented by volcanoes and dying bodies on the bottom right. 

Krishna's "glory is unlimited," which seems to be shown by the magnificent formations of the earth, the beings in the sky (at the top) and the scope and majesty of the overall painting.

The "numberless arms" are shown by the pantheon of beings to the right, their arms and forms stretching out of sight. 

"The sun and mood are your eyes" is shown here magnificently, with the sun radiating from the face in the center. I almost feel a sense of blindedness just by gazing at this painting, with the white shards of light coming at me directly. A man seems to be leading on galloping horses in the light of the sun, who is possibly Surya, the sun-god. I see the stars and other planets scattered throughout the faces of the central figures and throughout the painting, giving me a sense of the magnitude of this universal form. 

"Blazing fire coming forth from Your mouth" is shown by the central figure on the right, where a river of flame seems to be flowing from his ferocious mouth. Krishna later explains that this blazing river of fire that destroys all beings is His form as Time, "the great destroyer of the worlds" (11.32). 

This radiance of time and universal splendor leaves Arjuna dumbstruck, and eventually terrified. Krishna then ultimately displays his "two-armed form" (11.33) in order to pacify his dear friend. 

While the Universal Form is certainly awe-inspiring and wondrous, its hard to exchange love with a being who spews forth rivers of death or creates planetary systems or blinds the world by the radiance of his eyes. 

Love is down-to-earth, a simple, deep exchange of heart and soul. While this display of the universal form helps Arjuna and all of us understand that Krishna is no ordinary human being and that we need to respect Krishna as God, nevertheless, love is love, and sometimes all of this majesty gets in the way of that love. 

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)

80: Freedom to Choose

CHAPTER 18, TEXT 60: Under illusion you are now declining to act according to My direction. But, compelled by the work born of your own nature, you will act all the same, O son of Kuntī.

In the beginning of the Bhagavad-gita Arjuna had a meltdown: faced with the prospect of killing his friends and family in the battle of Kurukshetra, he trembled, fell to his knees, and dropped his bow. He offered many reasons to his friend Lord Krishna to not fight in the battle of Kurukshetra. Objectively, his reasons were solid. Convincing. 

But if Arjuna was in so much emotional distress and his arguments were so solid, then why didn't he just walk away? I mean, it would've made sense.   

Nevertheless, something seemed to have nagged at Arjuna that his experience and perspective were not complete. 

So he asked his friend, Krishna, for guidance.

In response, Krishna spoke the entire Bhagavad-gita with the direction that yes, Arjuna should fight. 

As you can imagine, Arjuna's overwhelming desire to not fight and Krishna's strong urging to fight are at odds. Here, Krishna circles back to His friend's dilemma, stating with simple logic that he can either fight in this battle according to His (God's) direction or... he will "act all the same." 

Basically, Arjuna is bound to fight. The real question is under what energy will he be acting from - material or spiritual? 

This is a question for all of us. 

We're all bound to eat, sleep, and work in this world. Maybe our nature is to be a car mechanic, teacher, small business owner, a CEO, and usually our nature calls us to be a spouse - husband or wife - and parents - a father or mother. We're going to do these things, there's no escaping. "Escaping" implies that, well, I'm under the control or directive of something else. 

Prabhupad emphasizes that the nature of the soul is to be subordinate. He writes, "If one refuses to act under the direction of the Supreme Lord, then he is compelled to act by the modes in which he is situated." Note here how Prabhupad says "under the direction" and "compelled" - either way, the soul is not fully independent. 

Not fully independent. We still have some independence - we have our precious, priceless free will. 

We can choose which energy to be under - God's directive or the material creation's directive. One gives us greater freedom, one gives us greater bondage. The modes of nature are always binding us. Prabhupad writes that, "Everyone is under the spell of a particular combination of the modes of nature and is acting in that way." In America we value freedom to such a high degree, but Prabhupad is stating here that everyone is under the spell of the modes of nature. True freedom is an illusion as long as we're entangled in this world. 

Choosing spirit, though, opens the gateway to the deepest freedom. But to choose spirit is sometimes really, really hard. For Arjuna to choose to fight under Krishna's directive, instead of being roped in and moved around by his nature and the modes, is hard. It means that Arjuna needs to actually use the faculty of his free will to follow God's directive. If he doesn't follow God's directive, then he becomes a victim of circumstance - oh, well I was born with a certain nature, or my brothers forced me to fight, or I couldn't help myself. Arjuna thus becomes a victim of material nature, out of touch with his divine capacity to choose. 

But if Arjuna chooses to fight based on Krishna's directive, a difficult but conscious decision, he is no longer governed by his nature, or the circumstances of his family, or his emotions or mind. He is no longer a victim. Although Arjuna is still governed (by Krishna) he made a choice to be governed by divine will. Prabhupad writes, "But anyone who voluntarily engages himself under the direction of the Supreme Lord becomes glorious." The key word here is "voluntarily" - forcing oneself or being forced to be engaged under the direction of God means that the soul is not fully expressed. God may give His directions, but unless we accept those directions with our heart and soul, then we might as well be under material nature. But if we can access that free will, the gates of glory open wide - the glory of freedom, the glory of love. 

Full purport here: https://vedabase.io/en/library/bg/18/60/

60: Syamasundar-Shaped Hole

FORMAT: This post is in the format of a Found Poem - the words in italics are words taken directly from the verse and/or purport. The words in standard font are my own words. 

Syamasundar-Shaped Hole

(Chapter 6, Text 30)

I've been so lost

So alone 

So empty

For minutes and hours and days and years 

and eons

If only I could see and hear

Your eternal form of Śyāmasundara, 

situated within my heart

I know You would tell me 

"For one who sees Me everywhere 

and sees everything in Me,

I am never lost, 

nor is he ever lost to Me."

Don't be lost

alone

or empty

I am right here, You tell me.

After all,

Nothing can exist without Kṛṣṇa, 

Kṛṣṇa is the Lord of everything.

If only I would open my heart

to Your eternal form of Śyāmasundara, 

You would become my everything. 

That intimate relationship between the Lord 

and the devotee 

will fill the hole in this heart

the Syamasundar-shaped hole

the hole that echoes to me that I'm 

lost 

alone

empty

If only I would open my heart

You would never disappear from my sight

And I would never lose sight of  You

For you are my dearest Friend. 

***

Full purport here: https://vedabase.io/en/library/bg/6/30/

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/

54: A Convenient, Joyful Process

CHAPTER 12, TEXT 5: For those whose minds are attached to the unmanifested, impersonal feature of the Supreme, advancement is very troublesome. To make progress in that discipline is always difficult for those who are embodied.

This verse of the Gita underscores the fact that one who tries to understand God in His impersonal feature is duhkham - he is miserable. 

Meditating in silence and stillness on nothing / formless light / power is actually miserable. 

A key word of this verse is deha-vadbhih, which means "those who are embodied." To try and meditate upon a formless light when we ourselves are embodied is almost impossible. 

According to the Gita, we are all an eternal spirit soul, but we are housed within a material body. When the body dies, the eternal soul moves on to another body; "The individual soul is embodied since time immemorial." The soul has been traversing from body to body to body in a neverending ferris wheel in the cycle of samsara, the cycle of birth and death in this world. Thus "it is very difficult for him to simply theoretically understand that he is not the body." This shows that theoretical understanding does not go very far. Since I am housed within a material body, naturally I identify with this body, no matter how much philosophy I read and agree with. 

I tend to believe that this body IS me. 

I can't see my soul. But I can see and feel and touch my body, so my body must be who "I" am. Prabhupad emphasizes that it is difficult for us to even understand theoretically that we are not the body - indeed, I understand somewhat theoretically that I am not the body, but that theory is hard to apply in practical, everyday life. I am typing these words with my fingers, I am seeing through these eyes, I am willing my body to move. 

I mean, the willing and the moving of my body is so seamless that I must be my body, right? 

And everyone else's body must be them, right?

Bhakti yoga does not demand that one should stubbornly refuse all connection to the body. In fact, there is the understanding that we all have an eternal form, a svarupa, in the spiritual world. 

What's more, God also has an eternal form, but he is also represented in an embodied form in this material world. Prabhupad writes, "The bhakti-yogī accepts the Deity of Kṛṣṇa as worshipable because there is some bodily conception fixed in the mind, which can thus be applied." This is so beautiful. God is meeting us where we're at; He knows that since we have been embodied since time immemorial, we're going to identify with our bodies and identify others as their bodies. 

Including God! 

We're going to believe that God in His material body IS Him. 

So presto - God gives us deity worship in order to apply our bodily conception of life. Through deity worship, we may all approach God easily and joyfully. By "[God's] incarnation as arcā-vigraha He can accept the services of the devotee, just to make it convenient for the man in conditioned life." Amazing  how Prabhupad uses the word "convenient" here. Not only is this process joyful, it is convenient. Deity worship is not meant to be miserable, like meditating on an impersonal void. In fact, for "the personalist, without any risk, trouble or difficulty, [he] approaches the Supreme Personality directly." So although this verses emphasizes the misery of attempting impersonal meditation, within the purport Prabhupad offers a solution that is simple, convenient, and direct. 

Personally, I find that when I visit the deity form of the Lord within a temple, my heart opens like a flower and love flows in my heart. I can bow down with my body, I can dance with my body, I can drink in God's form with my eyes. 

Way more accessible than sitting in silent and, well, miserable meditation. (Hey, Krishna Himself says it's miserable!) 

I'm an embodied soul, what can I say? I tend to believe that others are their bodies, including God. Ever since I was a little girl, when I would gaze up at the deity form of God, I simply understood, "This is God. God is looking at me." This process is so easy even a child can exchange love with God. This is bhakti yoga. 

Full purport here: https://vedabase.io/en/library/bg/12/5/

52: Jesting With The King

CHAPTER 11, TEXTS 41-42: Thinking of You as my friend, I have rashly addressed You “O Kṛṣṇa,” “O Yādava,” “O my friend,” not knowing Your glories. Please forgive whatever I may have done in madness or in love. I have dishonored You many times, jesting as we relaxed, lay on the same bed, or sat or ate together, sometimes alone and sometimes in front of many friends. O infallible one, please excuse me for all those offenses.

We have been experiencing along with Arjuna the terrifying forms of God in His most powerful, awe-inspiring universal form, which includes viewing the vast pantheon of  demigods, spinning planets and  galaxies, and all beings  rushing into the mouth of death. I would imagine that if I was to witness even a fraction of any of this, my brain would be blank.  

But Arjuna's brain is not blank. In fact, he has the presence of mind to... huh? Apologize to Krishna for being so familiar?

The stark contrast between the universal form and Arjuna's description of intimate moments with Krishna is jarring. He describes lounging on the same bed, eating together, and jesting in the company of friends. There's a sense of  coming back down to earth to the present moment, right there on a chariot in the midst of a battlefield, and  I can almost see Arjuna folding his palms, stuttering his apologies. 

Arjuna's apology brings to mind a simple comparison - he's just joking with an old friend, maybe even making fun of him. His friend would laugh along, maybe tease him in return. And then only much later would he find out that the old friend is actually the king. If I had been in Arjuna's shoes, I would be stumbling out apologies and begging forgiveness, too. 

But the king is not only a king. Being a king is a role, not an identity. 

Ultimately, a king is a person. 

Krishna is a person, and He "is so kind and merciful that in spite of such opulence He played with Arjuna as a friend. Such is the transcendental loving reciprocation between the devotee and the Lord." Although Arjuna is gushing his apologies for his familiarity with Krishna, it's clear that Krishna is quite aware that Arjuna was interacting with him as a friend, eating together, joking with each other. Krishna was not only aware, He enjoyed this kind of exchange, this kind of natural loving reciprocation. 

Arjuna is thoroughly awestruck and trembling from this divine display of the universe - creation, annihilation, all the demigods and planets and galaxies - and yet he has the presence of mind to come back to remembering his relationship with Krishna, which consists  of such seemingly simple, mundane exchanges. This is because "the relationship between the living entity and Kṛṣṇa is fixed eternally; it cannot be forgotten, as we can see from the behavior of Arjuna." Prabhupad writes here that this relationship is eternal, which means that it is beyond this material world. 

The virat-rupa, the universal form, is actually the material manifestation of God's greatness. Prabhupad writes "This universal form is material and temporary, as the material world is temporary" (11.45, purport). So although Arjuna was given divine eyes to behold this universal form, nevertheless the form is material and therefore temporary. After all, the universe and the demigods and the planets are constantly being created and destroyed. 

But if something is eternal - like the soul, like God Himself - there is no creation. There is no destruction. And between the soul and God is a relationship that is eternal - that relationship was never created, it will never be destroyed. 

This means that that relationship - that thread of connection - is more powerful and divine than even the universal form. 

In this way, "Although Arjuna has seen the opulence in the universal form, he cannot forget his friendly relationship with Kṛṣṇa." So although the universes may rise and fall, the demigods create and destroy, the galaxies expand and collapse, living beings rush into the mouths of death in a ceaseless current, all these things will come and go. 

But that friendly relationship is not forgotten. 

Those jests, those moments of lounging and eating together amongst friends - that friendly relationship between Arjuna and Krishna will outlast even the longest lived demigod and universe because that is love, and love is eternal. 

Now that is truly wondrous.

Full purport here: https://vedabase.io/en/library/bg/11/41-42/

49: Seeing Through Arjuna's Eyes

CHAPTER 11, TEXT 8: But you cannot see Me with your present eyes. Therefore I give you divine eyes. Behold My mystic opulence!

In the previous chapter, entitled "Opulence of the Absolute", Krishna shares ways that the common man can identify sparks of God's glory. We can see these sparks of splendor in the mundane world, such as dazzling rainbows and the immovable Himalayas and blazing sunsets. We can behold these wonders with our own mundane eyes - eyes that need glasses, eyes that can't see very well once it gets a little dark, eyes that - if we just close our eyelids - are blind. 

Still, even with these limited, faulty eyes, we can see God. 

Well, kinda. 

Sorta. 

To really SEE God in all of His unlimited glory with these mundane eyes is simply not possible. 

Still, Arjuna is requesting Krisna to "kindly show [him] that unlimited universal Self" (11.4). Arjuna wants to behold Krishna's cosmic form - not because  he has any personal motivation or he wants to be indulged in his fascination. He is actually asking to see Krishna's form on behalf of all of  us, for if Krishna shows His unlimited universal Self, then He is shown to be God, not just some mundane human (11.3, purport). 

Krishna is preparing Arjuna here in Verse 8 that his friend cannot see that universal Self with ordinary eyes - so He gives Arjuna divine eyes (divya-chakshu). By telling Arjuna that he cannot view that universal Self with ordinary eyes, he is also telling all of us that neither can we. 

But through the Bhagavad-gita, we will soon be treated to the most wondrous, jaw-dropping descriptions of God in His cosmic form, his unlimited universal Self. For millennia, people have encountered God in his universal form (virat-rupa) through this medium of the Bhagavad-gita. Although we also cannot see this form with our mundane eyes we are captivated and thrilled to experience God in his unlimited, universal form vicariously through Arjuna. 

Ultimately though, what truly captivates and thrills the mind and the heart is a loving relationship. Prabhupad writes, "A pure devotee does not like to see Kṛṣṇa in any form except His form with two hands." Arjuna was a pure devotee - he is requesting to see this universal form not for himself but for the whole world and for millennia to come. 

Ultimately, those divine eyes to see the universal form are a gift given by Krishna. Krishna bestows that gift upon a friend, and a friend who does not simply want to gawk at God's power. Krishna knows Arjuna's heart, and "The Lord gave Arjuna the necessary power to see His universal form because He knew that Arjuna did not particularly want to see it." Prabhupad writes here that Arjuna did not "particularly want to see" Krishna's universal form, and yet he is asking to see it, even pleading with Krishna. 

In truth, Arjuna is satisfied with Krishna being his friend and being in His "form with two hands." That is the form in which Arjuna can exchange a loving friendship with Krishna. He is satisfied - thus, he doesn't "particularly want to see" this mind-blowing, jaw-dropping universal form. He doesn't need to see it. 

But we do. 

For all the haters and doubters out there, this virat-rupa's for you. 

Full purport here: https://vedabase.io/en/library/bg/11/8/

43: The Devotee of His Devotee

CHAPTER 9, TEXT 29: I envy no one, nor am I partial to anyone. I am equal to all. But whoever renders service unto Me in devotion is a friend, is in Me, and I am also a friend to him.

A few years ago, I decided to take on an unpaid internship at a school in New York City because I simply wanted to be there. Eventually, I built such a warm and supportive relationship with the teachers that I was asked to step in for a long-term substitute position, and eventually as a full-time teacher. 

For both positions, I was still required to go through the full interview process. Other applicants were interviewed, so we were all given a fair chance at the position.

In fact, other applicants were sometimes even more qualified than me - they had more training, more experience, etc. I remember sitting in my chair outside of the principal's office and seeing these interviewees come in and thinking to myself, "This is nuts. I'm a total newb at teaching, these people look so qualified."

But I was given the job. 

Both times, there was never a question in the principal's mind that she wanted to give the job to me. 

Why? 

There's only one reason. 

We had a relationship. Not only the principal and me, but I also had relationship with almost every teacher at the school, along many of the students. Those relationships took precedence over everything else, from degrees to years of experience. 

This verse of the Gita, 9.29, addresses this seeming contradiction in spiritual life between God's fairness and His special treatment. Srila Prabhupad addresses this contradiction within the very first sentence of his purport: "One may question here that if Kṛṣṇa is equal to everyone and no one is His special friend, then why does He take a special interest in the devotees who are always engaged in His transcendental service?" Indeed, one could argue that true impartiality means that even if there is any kind of a relationship, decisions will be made only upon the laws and objective qualifications. We take great pains in this world to make sure judges and jurors are neutral, and that they are not swayed by personal relationships. 

That is also an aspect of God, which he addresses in this verse: I envy no one, nor am I partial to anyone. God IS the neutral judge, meting out punishment and reward through the machinations of material nature. 

But that judge in the courtroom - she or he also goes home, right? That judge may have a family. A husband or a wife. A child. Friends. That judge is not only a judge - that judge is a person. At home, that judge is partial to his wife and his child and his friends. He exchanges love with each person in a unique, special way. 

Similarly, God is a person. He is not only the supreme judge and maintainer of  the universe. Krishna is a person whose heart opens to the person whose heart opens to Him. As Srila Prabhbupad says, "[T]his is not discrimination; it is natural." Indeed, for a judge to be partial to his wife or child is not discrimination - it is  natural! Similarly, God is a person who is partial to those He has a loving relationship with. 

Of course, the presupposition here is that God is a person. Prabhupad writes, "If a reciprocal relationship is not present between the devotee and the Lord, then there is no personalist philosophy. In the impersonal philosophy there is no reciprocation between the Supreme and the living entity, but in the personalist philosophy there is." 

The impersonalist philosophy would say that God is an all-powerful force of light that maintains the universe, brilliant like the sun. There's no reciprocation with the sun. The sun simply exists and shines upon all in utter impartiality. 

The personalist philosophy would say that God is a conscious person who has feelings and a heart. This person is inclined to give attention and affection to those who give attention and affection to Him, as any person is.  

The wondrous thing about this verse is that Krishna validates both the impersonalist and personalist approach! He is the impartial sun AND the partial person. He is equal to all AND a friend. Both are needed, both are aspects of God. 

Ultimately, though, a loving relationship is emphasized. And how beautiful that God is partial to His devotees - in this way he so tenderly cares for those who express some faith and love in Him, and try to serve Him in any small way. In fact, God reciprocates so beautifully to the point of serving his devotees. Prabhupad writes, "The Supreme Lord becomes the devotee of His devotees." Note the phrasing of this sentence, and that Prabhupad uses the title of "The Supreme Lord" to emphasize that wonder of God Himself becoming a devotee of His devotee. In this way, God is not just partial to His devotee because He likes being served and likes all the attention for Himself. No. Krishna - The Supreme Lord - reciprocates and takes great joy in serving and loving His devotees with all of His heart. 

Full purport: https://vedabase.io/en/library/bg/9/29/