Sit Properly

Once upon a time I was bored at work. And then this fellow came in, noticed the Krishna Art book on the coffee table and some of Prabhupada’s books on a shelf and told me that he used to go to Gita Nagari a lot. He also used to know a fellow named Steve.

Steve used to live at the State College temple. Now he’s a post master in some small town around State College. Anyway, Steve went to India and while he was there, he stayed with a large Indian family. The family was entertaining a large group of Americans (nondevotees). The family performed some traditional Indian dances and songs and then they asked the Americans sing or dance something from American culture. The Americans sang the national anthem and then couldn’t figure out what else to do.

So they did the hokey pokey.

Put your right foot in, take your right foot out, put your right foot in and you shake it all about…

While the hokey was pokeying, it was being translated from English to Hindi. Curious, Steve asked the translator to translate it back to English so that he could hear it as the Indians were hearing it.

At the end of the song, you put your whole self in and take your whole self out, put your whole self in and shake it all about.

Here’s how that part went:

“You place your entire being inside
You place your entire being outside
You place your entire being inside and vibrate your entire being everywhere
You do the hokey pokey and revolve your being in a circle
That is the complete essence of everything.”

Kind of deep when you think about it, eh?

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[...Tomorrow... Bhakta Pee Wee's Playhouse.]
Ready?

Tomorrow is Rama Vijaya..um..KillRavana Day (bad with names, alright?). I badly wanted to get to Gita Nagari for it. I usually have off on weekends, so no problem, right? However, like Radhastami, I randomly have to work. Marti, who usually fills in for me on the weekends, is away this weekend.

Since I own my own business, it’s not like I can just call in sick, either. I have to be here. Duty, blah blah blah.

Right now, I’m waiting for a call to tell me whether or not someone (in particular) can work for me tonight and tomorrow. I thought she was going to let me know on Tuesday, but I guess not.

It’s not often that I get to Gita Nagari. It’s only about two hours away and I just don’t go. Granted, two hours isn’t exactly next door, but I’m more apt to go to Philly or New Vrndavana. I don’t really know anyone at GN, so that doesn’t help much either.

But for this festival I was hoping to get there.

If I can’t get there, I guess I’ll have to celebrate with a watching of the Ramayana.

Or perhaps this…

I’ve seen a few articles by devotees supporting the Christians’ efforts to get “intelligent design” into classrooms. At first, it seems like it’s what we should believe in, right? We, as devotees, believe that the whole creation was intelligently designed by Krishna. And that if that were magically taught in public schools, we’d somehow be raising the next generation of America’s youths in a Krishna conscious sort of way.

But this is a really really super dangerous slippery slope of a position to take.

While we may think we believe in Intelligent Design, we don’t. However, we do believe in intelligent design (notice, no capital letters).

Intelligent Design (with caps) is another way of saying “Six Literal Days.” Here’s a dumb little website about it.

Now the six literal days folks are the folks who believe in the literal Biblical idea of creation. You know, Adam and Eve , etc. They believe that the earth is only about 8,000 years old. Brilliant idea.

Again, we believe in intelligent design. We don’t believe in Intelligent Design.

And it kind of bugs me off that these Christians are now using the phase “Intelligent Design.” Cause I believe in intelligent design.

It’s like saying, “Hey, Eric, do you believe in really good cashews?”
To which I’d reply, “Hells yeah, I love me some really good cashews!”
And to which they’d then reply, “Awesome! That’s great! Oh, but from now on ‘really good cashews’ is what we’re going to call ‘slaughtering babies on street corners,’ hope that’s not a problem.”

I just don’t get it.

And I don’t get why devotees are supporting this. We do not believe in it. It’s a very bad idea to support Christians in their zany political endeavors. They would never do the same for us. And even if they would, we don’t believe in their absurd version of creation!

We have a very unique version of creation and evolution. Our version doesn’t really stand a chance of being taught in schools. But that doesn’t mean we should latch on to the Christian version of things.

The enemy of our enemy is not our friend.

When you say “story” and “Varshana Swami” usually you’re talking about his tellings of Caitanya-lila. They are second to none. But it’s rare to hear stories about Varshana Swami. Well lucky me, I’ve got two. And lucky you because I’m about to tell them.

Both happened last year while I was staying for a bit at New Vrndavana.

The first was related in an old LJ post. The whole post itself is kind of fun. You can read it here.

Sunday morning was kind of neat. Right before japa, I learn that Varsana Maharaja will be giving class. But I have to do transfer, so I miss it. That’s not the neat part. Jen slept in the day before. Her service is to write the Bhagavatam verse on a dry-erase board. The devotee giving class had no verse up.

I didn’t want this to happen to Maharaja. So I ask Gopal, who is his disciple, “hey, which verse is Maharaja doing today?”

He replied: “Is he giving class today? Hm, didn’t know that. I’ll ask him.”

Odd. But Gopal walks over to ask him and I see both of them smiling. He comes over and relates Varsana Swami’s answer, “I’m supposed to give class today?” And then something about spontaneous service to Krishna.

I missed the class, but heard it was pretty sweet.

The next story is more about me and my horrible memory. The back story is that I’ve been a devotee since late 1993. And in that time I have managed to memorize zero slokas. That’s right, not a single one. I also have zero songs memorized. Sure, I can make my way through any of the common ones pretty easily if I have the words in front of me. But from memory? Nope. None.

Why? I’m not sure. It’s certainly not for lack of trying. I simply can’t memorize things that I can just as easily look up. It’s a mental defect. I’m not lazy (at least not in this way), it just doesn’t come to me.

While I was there, I made it to every mangal. I mean, why go to a temple if you’re not going to get up for mangal, right? So I did. Usually, I would be one of the first ones there. And then, right before the conch blew, a handful of devotees would wander in. Maharaja was there more often than not. I was glad that they showed up because, as I mentioned, I don’t know the words to the samsara prayers. Sure, I could read them off of the card… no wait, I can’t. Bad eyesight, near darkness (because the New Vrndavana temple room is officially the darkest temple room in all of ISKCON) and the card being placed at a weird, stage-left, position made it impossible.

But on one fateful day, I arrive about ten minutes before mangal and start chanting some japa. My mind is no where near on my chanting because I’m wondering where the hell everyone else is. With five minutes to go, Varshana Swami comes in and starts to chant his japa. At this point, I go from worrying about singing the Samsara prayers to myself to panicking about singing the Samsara prayers to Varshana Swami.

As any devotee knows, you can tell when the arati is about to start. You can hear the arati tray being brought onto the altar, the accidental “ding” of a bell, the clearing of the pujari’s throat… And with each of these, my heart started beating harder and harder. I thought of bolting out of the temple room. It took all the strength I could muster to keep put.

Varshana Swami looked at me as if to say, “so, you’re all we’ve got?” And sadly, yes. I was it. Slim pickin’s, huh?

I figured that other devotees would come in. I figured that someone who actually knows the words would just walk through the doors, pick up a mrdanga and lead a three-man kirtana. But nobody was coming.

And then I heard them popping the conch. I knew this was it. I nearly fainted. The doors opened – one side and then the other – the conch blew as Varsana Swami and I offered obeisances.

He then looked at me and said, “would you like to lead?”

Yes. Yes, maharaja, I would love to lead! I’d love to grab some kartals and give you the best Samsara prayers New Vrndavana’s ever heard!

But what I said was, “I’m sorry.. I don’t know the words.”

He gave me this look. Not really of disgust, but more of complete disbelief. He probably thought that I was lying. I felt horrible and stupid. How could I not know these words after this many years? How is it even possible that I don’t have this committed to memory by now?? What is wrong with me?!

And the punishment for being brain dead? Well, I’m not sure how this all worked out, but I was treated to a beautiful treatment of Guvastakam by Varshana Swami. It was really amazing. I totally didn’t deserve it. That’s mercy, folks. Pure and simple.

Gooodstorieseric.

The first time I showed up at New Vrndavana, they still had a few “New Vrndavana Inmate” tshirts. Loved it. Wish I would have bought one. But maybe this is the next best things…

Last year I spent a lot of time at NV and I was feeling rather snarky, so I made some tshirt ideas. These aren’t real shirts, but I supposed they *could* be if I was poked enough to do them.

New Vrndavana Accordion Ensemble – This is a real picture of the famous New Vrndavana Accordion Ensemble! They really existed. Too bad they never made tshirts. I love the heavy metal lettering. I wish I would have put umlauts over one of the vowels. Party on.

Best. Dham. Ever. – I think the “Best. _________. Ever.” thing is from Comic Book Store Guy on the Simpons. At any rate, Jayalila, Radhanama and I coined the phrase. Well, one of us did. I can’t remember which. It’s true though. New Vrndavana really is the Best. Dham. Ever.

Olivia wants me to make this on a green shirt with yellow lettering. That’s possible. I wouldn’t mind seeing a few of these around.

If you like lunch…. – Last summer, while I was there, New Vrndavana had this weird habit of serving for breakfast whatever was for lunch the prior day. Meaning if you had that weird beige/yellowish stuff for lunch on Wednesday, you’d be graced with it again for breakfast on Thursday! It’s a find tradition and I hope that it continues evermore! Just another endearing quality of New Vrndavana.

And while the first three tshirts were tributes to the quirkiness of New Vrndavana, pure silly fun with the place that I love most, the last one is a bit more serious.

Upon the walls of many ISKCON temples there are menus. On these menus, you can order different ceremonies. You pay a certain amount and you get a car puja or a grain ceremony or any other number of Hindu ceremonies that Srila Prabhupada didn’t introduce to us.

Or, you can get your thread…

And Srila Prabhupada was right! $251 is not cheap!

If you’ve not caught on, I’m really into strange New Vrndavana history. And while this item doesn’t take the cake, it’s up there.

In March of 1987, ISKCON officially gave New Vrndavana and Bhaktipada the boot. The reasons were detailed in a “GBC [Governing Body Commission] resolution.” Bhaktipada received the resolution and decided to respond.

I believe it was Nityo Dita [could be wrong about that] who read the GBC’s accusation and reasons for booting and Bhaktipada responded.

It seems like this was done in front of a small room full of devotees. The only microphone was the one used to record the conversation. I’m not sure how widely the recording of this was spread. I found my copy in a box of more professional looking Bhaktipada Tape Ministry tapes.

The copy I have of it looks like this:

Oddly, this was side two of the cassette. Side one was a semi-professionalish recording of Bhaktipada reading his book, Christ and Krishna. This particular tape was at one time owned by “K. Bhava dasi.” Probably Krishna Bhava Dasi. The date “11/23/87″ is written on side one.

I’m not going to say much about the contents of what he actually said (would rather let that speak for itself). This was recorded in 1987, hot on the heels of the FBI raid and finding Chakradhara’s remains. Sometime not too long after the recording, in November, New Vrndavana holds a “Religious Freedom Gathering.”

This was also the year that Bhaktipada closed the Nandagram school, sending the kids “as examples” to public school. It was probably not a coincidence that this was the year that Sri Galim, one of their teachers, was arrested for child abuse.

In light of all this, his answers aren’t really shocking. You can tell that he holds a bit back (or at least makes a show of holding things back) perhaps hoping that members of the GBC would hear this. Maybe.

At any rate, 1987 was a big year for New Vrndavana. And this is Bhaktipada’s own take on it.

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Last summer, around Radhastami, I was hanging out at New Vrndavana with a few devotees who were into personal prayer. Really into it. It’s not like I didn’t agree, of course, I was fine with it, I just didn’t do it.

We’d be talking about one of my many problems and they’d ask, “Eric have you prayed about this?” I paused for a bit, thought and said, “Hopes are prayers.” Which is true, but by the scowling look on their faces I knew they saw through that one.

“Eric, promise me that you’ll pray about this.”

I gave some half-hearted nod thing to shut them up. It’s not that I didn’t believe in prayer… I just didn’t realize it was important or did anything. I pretty much just didn’t care about it.

As many devotees have noticed when we don’t care about something in Krishna consciousness, Krishna throws us right into the middle of whatever it is we don’t care about.

For Radhastami, someone came up with the idea that the devotees and guests should write a prayer to Radharani on a piece of paper, tie it to a helium-filled balloon and float it up into the altar. When I heard about this, I rolled my eyes – probably making a ton of offenses in the rolling.

I was really grumpy about it. Even more than I usually am. I thought, “why not just chant Hare Krishna?” Or, if you really have to, just say a silent prayer to Radharani. I get cranky and obstinate sometimes.

So guess who was magically put in charge of the task of giving the paper and pens to devotees and then tying the message to the balloon? That’s right, me. Thanks Krishna!

I went from being grumpy to just not wanting to be there. But as the devotees, hundreds of them, filtered by me, I was purified by their association. I could see what they were writing and it moved me. Yes, bhakta Grinches’s heart grew three times that day! Some were praising Her (which is always good to hear), some were just saying “hi,” and some were crying out to her for help. As more and more came through my line, the more this idea grew on me, the more this idea of personal prayer grew on me.

As my friends passed by, they would ask, “Did you put yours in yet? Did you write one yet?” Each one wearing me down, chiseling away at my stupid stone heart.

By the end of it, I had run out of balloons, the line was gone, replaced by a kirtana of devotees, and as they were closing the altar, I quickly wrote a short prayer to Srimati Radharani on a pink little piece of paper and slipped it under the deity doors just before it was too late.

I had slipped a note under God’s door… That’s pretty cool, isn’t it? I love Krishna consciousness!

It would start with “I’d like to make a prayer request for…” and then the church member would give the name of their loved one who was in trouble, usually sick, sometimes dealing with a larger-than-life drama. And then the whole church would make it a point to include this person (who they often didn’t even know) in their prayers. The church I went to even had a “prayer chain.” It was your typical phone tree, where one person calls another and another until pretty much all 400ish members of the church were informed and praying.

I know I don’t have many nice things to say about the Southern Baptist church I grew up in, but on this rare occasion, I’m going to say that they had it right.

In Krishna consciousness, we spend a lot of time telling people that we are personalists. Yet many of us have very impersonal personalist relationships with Krishna.

Why isn’t prayer more a part of what we do? Is it strictly a western construct? Sure, we have the maha-mantra which is begging Krishna to engage us in His personal service, but how many of us chant like that… or are we just “doing our rounds”?

Because it’s not strictly part of our philosophy, I don’t think we really know how to incorporate it. Though, that fact doesn’t stop us from incorporating pretty much anything else. From self-help seminars to pyramid money making scams, we can make almost anything “Krishna conscious.”

So why not something that could actually advance us? Like prayer.

My father, who is Baptist, yet still one of the most sincerely spiritual people I know, gave me the advice of “don’t pray for your problems to go away, pray for the strength to handle them and to learn from them.” Of course, he would be constantly prayer for other people. He was part of that “Prayer Chain.”

He has a personal relationship with Christ that rivals any devotee’s personal relationship with Krishna. He has gotten them pretty much exclusively through prayer.

I’ve seen him pray. It’s like he’s crying out like a child for help. It’s very seriously moving. He realizes he’s helpless and that the only one who can see him through this is God.

How many of us can say that?

I think this is something that really could be applied to our Krishna consciousness. In fact, there are two books by Satsvarupa Maharaja about this subject. One is called Vandanam; A Krishna Conscious handbook on prayer. The other is Entering the Life of Prayer. The first contains sastric references to prayer while the second is more of a personal journal. If you can find these books, check them out.

Haribol! How about a funny story for a Friday night?

I found a Hridayananda Maharaja tape from 1984 in a box at New Vrndavana (with another, more infamous, tape I’ll post tomorrow). In it, Hridayananda Maharaja tells the story of one day in Ohio when he and Satsvarupa Maharaja were on sankirtana with a bunch of devotees and a huge bus in 1972.

This is one of my favorite stories of all time.

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I was reading Brahmacarya in Krishna Consciousness yesterday.

Hold on. Let me rephrase that….

No. That is what I was doing. I really was reading Brahmacarya in Krishna Consciousness!

See?

I remember sitting in the Philly ashrama and we’d be tossing quotes back and forth, half making fun, half in awe that people could actually live like this.

My favorite? “If you’re thinking about getting married, stop it.” But then, of course, it goes on to explain that even though marriage isn’t the best thing to do, most folks will do it and here’s how to get to that point.

Now what am I doing reading this book? Me, the guy who has never been a brahmacari! Honestly, I just wanted to take a funny picture of me reading Brahmacarya in Krishna Consciousness.

But, truth be told, it’s a hard one to put down! Sure there are things I most definitely don’t agree with (the homosexuality bit being one of them). But his general mood is basically “be strict with yourself and lenient with others.” That’s a philosophy I can get behind. If only I were strict with myself, that is.

It then dawned on me just how conservative I can be about certain things in Krishna consciousness. Which is odd, because I’m fairly liberal with a lot of things too. On the liberal side, I’m pretty ok with females in the renounced order (sort of like Malati prabhu), I’m fine with gay folks and am very ok with having friends of both sexes in Krishna consciousness.

My more conservative side has to do with temple living. To live in a temple, I feel, that you should be a celibate monk, a brahmacari. I don’t think that Grhastas (householders) should live in a temple. If there’s an emergency or something like that, sure. But generally speaking, the ashrama is for monks.

I don’t feel that brahmacaris should get paid for their service. Ever. It’s service. If you want to be paid, get a job and become a grhasta. But, of course, the flip side to that is that the temple MUST supply everything the devotee needs. From living quarters to a library with all of Srila Prabhupada’s books to health care to proper meals. This includes temple presidents. TPs should live in the temple – how else will they know what really needs to be done? The temple should meet 100% of their needs as well.

I don’t think that temple devotees of different sexes should really have much to do with each other. I don’t think that’s too much to ask. Look at the Shakers, for example. Men and women lived in perfect harmony. They even used separate doors to enter the dining hall and the church. Sure, that was in Victorian and pre-Victorian times, but there’s no reason why that can’t be done today (I don’t mean the separate doors idea – just speaking in general).

I’ve got a problem with brahmacaris with computers. I know that for service, one is often needed. And a computer is a way to keep in touch with family, etc. That’s important. But for brahmacaris to have them in their rooms? I don’t think that’s a great idea. I’ve seen at New Vrndavana just how much they love the Tru ads on Myspace. I was going to install an adblocker on the second floor computer, but I would feel bad breaking their little saffron hearts.

Also, I don’t think that brahmacaris should be put in charge, or have much to do with, milking the Indian guests. I don’t think milking the Indian community is a good philosophy anyway, but to put brahmacaris in charge of it, where they are in contact with families, etc., it’s just a bad idea. It turns them into businessmen. Brahmacaris shouldn’t have to deal with that.

I also feel that every new devotee should live in a temple for at least three months. I know that’s a hard one to enforce. It’s pretty well impossible for a lot of people (it was impossible for me). But for those who can, they should. I lived in a temple for a little bit and loved it. I wish I could have stayed longer. And looking back, I should have stayed longer!

I guess I’m fairly old school when it comes to brahmacarya. I’d probably find myself agreeing with Danavir Maharaja more than not.

Though, speaking of sannyasis, I’m kind of conservative there too. Sannyasis (older men in the renounced order) should behave like sanyasis! They have no business at all arranging marriages, counseling marriages, giving marriage advice, etc. Not only is it something they know nothing about, the advice, which is often taken to heart, is often just bad… because they know nothing about marriage. And that’s ok. They shouldn’t know anything about marriage! Just because a sannyasi may be a pure devotee, doesn’t mean I’d get him to fix my car. A pure devotee may not be able to give material advice on issues he or she knows nothing about. Like, in this case, marriage. Go to sannyasis and elder devotees for spiritual advice. But sannyasis may not be the best devotees to go to for material or matrimonial advice.

Also, as Bir Krishna Goswami has stated, sannyasis have no business in managerial positions. That includes temple presidents. Their duty is to travel and preach (to the devotees and nondevotees alike). That’s it.

And speaking of business, sannyasis have no business in matters of business. I’ve seen some sannyasis with enough wealth to make Solomon blush! Why? The temple they’re based out of, or perhaps ISKCON in general, should fun the travels, the meals and maybe give a little laxmi when needed.

Sannyasis who can’t travel due to health reasons should be taken care of and respected. Just like in the case of the brahmacaris, every expense and need, including health care, should be taken care of by the temple.

The templeroom should be split down the middle with men on the right, women on the left. That’s how it’s traditionally done, that’s how Srila Prabhupada set it up. None of this women in the back crap. Some temples put men on the left, women on the right. Nono, you have it backwards. There’s a reason why it’s traditionally set up this way. Sure, on festivals and Sunday Feasts, when more devotees show up, it almost has to be whatever it is, but for the aratis, it should be traditional.

I also feel that money raised by the temple should be kept by the temple, as it’s generally done. But please, no weird charities. Srila Prabhupada didn’t risk his life to come to America so that we could open hospitals in India. Our charity is the holy name and prasadam distribution.

Wow. Maybe I’m coming off like our friend Bhakta Dick, but I don’t understand why this can’t be done? Buddhists and Catholic monks don’t have these problems. Why have we created all this extra silliness?

All of this is NOT to say that brahmacaris should act like jerks to the ladies (or vise versa). We can all get along perfectly if we’d just lose that ego thing. Remember: separate, but equal. Women should be encouraged to give classes, lead kirtana, etc., just as the men are encouraged to do so. Anything else is based upon a bodily/material conception. It’s not spiritual.

And to sum it all up, my hat is off to the devotees who can live this lifestyle. I secretly wish I could. And maybe someday I will.

I took the picture at the top this morning. I posted it on MySpace as a “funny picture.” In response, my friend Jagannatha Priya from Columbia took one of her own… Jaya!! Being a devotee is so much fun!