Human Factor

Human Factor

18.02.2013 Krakow

     “I have now become too old and disturbed by invalidity. While I write, my hands tremble.  I cannot remember anything, nor can I see or hear properly. Still I write, and this is a great wonder.”

Cc. Madhya 2.90

     This verse was written by Krsnadasa Kaviraja Goswami. Couple of weeks ago I was wandering if I have any book about Krishna’s pastimes. I thought it would be nice to add daily remembering of lilas to my sadhana. I don’t mean some elevated meditation (well, you know that), but just having some direct, simple contact with Krishna’s life so maybe I could get some attraction. Somehow I didn’t find anything, even the Krishna Book disappeared from my bookshelf, but then I remembered I have this beautiful one volume edition of Sri Caitanya Caritamrita. Recently I heard guru maharaja saying that this book has everything – philosophy, history, Krishna’s pastimes, Lord Caitanya’s pastimes. I read it years ago, as a brahmacari, but that feels almost as in another life, so I started again. Every day, after reading some of guru maharaja’s Gita, I go to Cc. 

     As for Lord Caitanya’s pastimes I was and I still am little bewildered. It is very… exotic, don’t know if it’s a good word. I have difficulty relating. For example now I’m in the section, where Krishnadasa Kaviraja Goswami describes in synopsis Mahaprabu’s ecstatic symptoms. That’s a lot to take – limbs hiding in his body like a tortoise, sweating blood, disjoining joints, etc. Still, I try to get the essence – the importance of love of God, and I’m happy also to find verses from different Vaisnava works describing Krishna’s and Radharani’s love, stories.

     But the verse I’ve just quoted at the beginning made so far the biggest impression on me.

     - Listen to this one! – I said and read it to Saragrahi, who was in the kitchen making breakfast.

      - Wow, strong one…

     She was impressed too. I’m not completely sure why I like it so much. I think it is about the humanity of the author showing so deeply in those few words. No remote narrator, impersonal story teller, staying in the background, handing over the absolute truth, but a human being made of flesh and blood, an old man basically having one foot in the grave, but in spite of everything, he opens himself to Krishna, not even knowing if he will finish the book before he dies (hence writing synopsis of Antya-lila in the beginning of Madhya-lila), and he lets the spiritual power flow through him. Very touching. One thing – it makes you feel connected with the author – his humanity, his problems, his mind, and the other thing – it shows you that in spite of your material problems, shortcomings, obstacles, you can achieve great things for Krishna, there is no limits. It’s very inspiring, isn’t it? 

     I like the human factor in the spiritual writings. I’ve always looked for it – in the Bhagavatam, Cc, etc. Therefore I like guru maharaja’s Gita best of all. Before, I just saw the philosophy there, but when he spiced it with the pointing out Krishna’s emotional moments while delivering the Gita, I read it in a completely different way. More as a personal statement permeated with feelings, then a philosophical or religious treatise.

     As for my own material conditions, Saragrahi and me are going now to the city with our (poor) resumes, let’s the job hunt begin. We better find something soon, the savings are soooo finished. The weather is grey, I haven’t seen the sun for over a week now, apparently the smog in Krakow is quite rapacious, but I feel ok, relaxed and in high spirits. Wish us a good luck.

     Hare Krishna.

When I was a wolf

     The life is magic, and I don’t mean it just in some metaphorical sense. The universe is really magic. We just see and touch the external, pale layer of it. We can reach deeper, if we really try. I’m pretty sure we have the tools, but we are so stupefied, so covered nowadays.

     I can say from my own example. I lived my teenage years in the pre-internet era. We just had one TV channel. The only computer in the village belonged to a cop’s kid, and we used it to play (rarely) Commodore 64 games. When you wanted a music album, either you had to buy it (ha, ha, who had the money? It was like 1/10 of an avarage wage) or make a cassette copy, usually in a very bad quality. When you needed information, you had to use a big, heavy, often outdated encyclopaedia. When you wanted to meet someone, you just went to his home and knocked on the door.

     Of course the life wasn’t idyllic, I had plenty of problems, involving broken heart, drugs and alcohol abuse, family issues, school problems – typical teenager quandaries. But somehow the mind worked in a slower pace, and not only that; it was also more magic-sensitive. I remember the evenings, long winter walks, watching bright stars and the moon, and experiencing such a thrilling sensation of the presence of mystical beings, continuity of existence, higher connection… (I’m not including here the drugs’ experiences, so bugger off, I wasn’t high;). There were so many things, so many shades of emotions and feelings. Not only that. There were things happening, amazing things (but I leave it for another time).

     Many things changed since 90’s. Everything has speeded up. The unlimited access to information filled our heads, but emptied souls. We know more, but we experience less. That’s so scary. And many of us can’t cope with this unhealthy state. We suffer anxiety, depression, panic, feeling of being lost, meaningless of the world. And it’s not because the world lost its meaning (or never had it). It’s because we are so deafen by this lurid hubbub around us, that we can’t make any sense of anything. We are like a deer stepping out of the wild forest on a highway, blinded by the lights of a big truck which is about to smash him to a pulp. This is unhealthy world we live in, not us, who is messed up.

     We have to try to shake it off, break free, find our spiritual connection to the higher world...

To walk in the winter nights,

With snow creaking under boots,

With ancient gods and spirits

Waving to us from their sky-ships,

With our thoughts crisp and clear,

Our roots deep and sturdy,

Our wings lighter then moonlight.

I remember the dark winter nights,

When I was a wolf.

I’ll meet you there.

In the Snow, Where Krishna Hides

In the Snow, Where Krishna Hides

     I haven’t written here for a while, but I don’t feel, like doing a recap of all those months. I just say that I’m getting my long awaited balance back, the therapy helped, but not as much as returning to some small sadhana I try to keep for the last couple of months. When I decided to have a break from spiritual practices (starting the therapy), my idea was to get straight with my thoughts, identity, emotions, to sort out my security and self-esteem issues, and only then return to my sadhana with clear and peaceful mind. It seemed a good idea at the time, but after a while I decided to come back to my practices without waiting for complete… I don’t know – secular enlightment? So I returned to chanting, reading Vaisnava books, praying.

     At first it felt really awkward. Like it wasn’t me, like I wandered too far astray from Krishna, lost the feeling, my blues vanished. Very weird. But I know better then that, so I kept going and then little by little I started to regain my devotional identity.

     Well, it sounds like a recap I didn’t want to do, so I stop it here.

     Few days ago I read my friend saying that for him the best prayer is to walk somewhere in the nature and feel gratefulness to Krishna for our existing and knowing Him. I liked that. I respect that devotee, he is one of the first Polish Vaisnavas, my hero from brahmacari times. In the beginning of ‘90s he was doing preaching in Cambodia and Vietnam, very sincere, deep and friendly guy. Anyway. He wrote that stuff about a prayer, I liked it, and I decided to do it myself. It sounds weird, because for the last year basically I live in the woods, so it shouldn’t be strange to me, but with my anxiety issues I wasn’t enjoying nature very much, mostly I stayed home. Now I’m better, so I can try things, yay!

     The day was beautiful – 10 below zero, snow, everywhere snow, the creek near my house was half frozen, blue sky, sharp, extremely transparent air. Perfect. I crossed the creek and just went straight ahead, towards the woods and bushes. My idea was to be on my own with the nature and instead of feeling alone as I usually do, keep calling Krishna, so I could feel His presence near me. You know, like a friend, who is always there. Maybe I approached it too technically (step first: the nature, step two: calling Krishna, step three: feeling His presence), but I tried sincerely. In the meantime I spotted deer’s tracks on the snow and I followed it, hoping to meet this beautiful animal. The tracks took me off the path (not that there was much path left with all that snow around), through some thick spruce groves, small valleys, I had to wade trough the deep snow, I even fell to a trickle, sharing my attention between trying to spot a deer and trying to spot (in my heart) Krishna.

     Eventually I spotted the deer, even two of them, but I didn’t have that much luck with Krishna. After two hours of wandering in the forest I still felt so much separation from Him, it felt frustrating and painful.

     Then I went back home and wrote to my devotee friend, that it didn’t work for me. He answered nicely that we are all different and we all have to find our particular way of connecting with Krishna, maybe I should search Him somewhere else.

     This morning I was reading “Follow the Angels” by Śrila Sridhara Maharaja. At one point he wrote something like, we shouldn’t try to see Krishna, but look for Him in the service. More or less like this. Of course I heard that before, Śrila Prabhupada used to say it a lot too, but somehow it made me think about my walk in the snow. Ok – wandering aimlessly in the forest isn’t usually considered a devotional service, unless you are of course a gopi looking for Krishna who had disappeared from the rasa dance, but – now when I though about that walk, I felt some warmth in my heart, kind of spiritual, faint glow, which was strange, since straight after the walk I was frustrated. And then I realized what this feeling could be – I didn’t meet Krishna in the forest, but somehow, to some degree measured by my sincerity and eagerness He was present there, no doubt about it. He is present in our endeavors to meet Him. You can find it in Gita, in Bhagavatam, everywhere. He reciprocates according to the intensity of our desire to love Him. Maybe it is an obvious thing, when I think about it now, but still it was a small epiphany.

     Recently I’m going trough my brahmacari diaries, publishing them on my other devotional blog. When I remember those saffron times now, they seem so bright, happy and Krishna conscious, but when I read what I wrote about my spiritual life then, it was a struggle – daily fight with maya, my lower nature, etc, with occasional, rare sunny spells. So if it was just a struggle what makes it so bright and happy? The constant endeavor to come closer to Krishna, to serve guru and Vaisnavas. That’s it.

     Somehow I feel that these are important thoughts. I’m getting easily discouraged in my spiritual life by the lack of accomplishment, I always wish I could feel some tangible results of my practices. But how much happier I would be, if I could see and appreciate Krishna appearing in my imperfect and weak attempts to come closer to Him, to become a better bhakta? Isn’t this feeling of His presence in our efforts tangible enough? Very comforting thought.

     I hope to write here more often and thus to be connected with my spiritual family (you guys), which company sometimes I miss a lot. Gauranga!