Secret Notes

Dear Sunshine,
I want to tell you a dozen things.
I want to tell you how much you intrigue me but I know it's a bad idea.
I'd like to get to know you better and tell you more about myself in turn, but in the process I know I could get myself and others hurt.
Knowing full well, I still feel drawn toward you. I yearn to reach out toward you much like a sun-loving vine tangles her way forward and climbs toward the warmth of the sun's rays.
-Latā, The Vine

Dear Beloved,
I managed to finally rid myself of you, that is, until today. I ran across an acquaintance and instead of moving forward gracefully, I found myself wanting to dig for any information as to your whereabouts, well-being, etc.
Perhaps I could inquire, but I know it was unlikely that I could manage the task without giving myself away-- or appearing desperate for you. (You know how I care about impressions.)
How can I know you, truly, when I am ungrateful of you when I have to to myself?  I take our moments for granted and then pine for you in the aftermath of your absence. Why is it so hard to admit that to you when we're together, alone?
-Ekākī, The Loner

Work Out

Today I felt really sick in the morning. I felt nauseous and queasy and just gross. I thought I was going to throw up but I didn't. After a quick lunch, we went shopping for a few items and headed to school. There was a percussionist featured in today's recital and he was amazing. After class, I dropped off my husband at work and picked up my son from school. We were supposed to go out shopping for new school shoes but I felt really lethargic, weak and I had a headache so I decided to take a nap. On top of that, I was stressed out because I haven't finished my weekly Chemistry assignments. I've been procrastinating a lot lately and it's catching up with me quickly. I don't know what to do first and sometimes I feel so horrible about it that I just can't think. I don't know why I'm reacting that way to stress, I'm normally quite capable and clear-headed, even fatigued or under pressure. Today I must have needed a nap because when I woke up, I started up in a fury and completed sections to the review study questions then I finished the terminology paper. Honestly I can't say that it has completely absorbed into my brain but I think I know enough of the terms that I can skate by. I should really study but I'm also overwhelmed with violin technique, repertoire, jazz conceptions, and standards that I can't focus too much on one. My instructor advised me to just spend a few minutes on each piece so I'm not reading but not more than ten minutes a day otherwise I run the risk of getting side-tracked by one composition and not giving enough attention to everything. I need to break my study and practice sessions into short fifteen minute bursts.

Scold and Praise

Today Master Schultz taught me two wonderful things through glorification and chastisement.
At my last lesson, he asked that I run prepare the Bach Sonata No. 2 in A minor and familiarize myself with it again. Today, he asked me if I had played through the Bach and if I could perform it for him first thing. I replied, "Yes, but isn't not as good as I'd like it." He nodded and asked me to play it. After I finished, he praised my performance, "That's the best I've heard you play it. It was amazing. Really, I mean it." He held eye contact with my gaze until there was almost an uncomfortable silence and I thanked him. He added that I should take more time with the phrases and pauses, adding that there was a particularly lengthy pause that he really appreciated and that I should 'take my time' more often. Master Schultz regularly reminds me not to 'short-change' myself. He asked me to play it again two more times but he insisted that the first time was best. I think it was due to my nervousness that I played it better. Once I had relaxed and basked in the light of his praises, I may have slackened.
I was reminded of two lessons from his praise: I should not underestimate my own ability or convey shortcomings to others. Also, I remembered that I shouldn't rest on my laurels. Mrs. Wittrig, my first violin instructor, once asked me if I knew the meaning of that expression or where it originated. When I responded in the negative, she explained that in Greek society laurels were a symbol of accolade, merit, accomplishment and that 'resting on one's laurels' meant that one becomes innert after achieving an honor, an accomplishment or something to that effect. Essentially, she warned that if I rested too much, I would become stagnant in my studies and possibly regress. She wasn't ever heavy with me, but she often laced my violin lessons with complex life lessons in ethical behavior. I realize now that my instructors all taught me valuable lessons; they taught me violin technique, ingrained theory, engendered musicianship, and infused musicality but the most valuable thing they gave me was their life experience and wisdom.
After hearing me, Master Schultz moved onto a Dvorak violin concerto for sight-reading. During the piece, I failed to play a grace note with a double-stop and he stopped me. "Did you play that grace-note?" he inquired, to which I quickly replied, "I'm sorry, no, I didn't play it." He scolded me lightly, "Don't apologize. It was a simple mistake. You made a mistake and you move on. We're reading through it for the first time, if you'd had it for ten weeks and you missed the grace-note, then you can apologize and I can give you hell about it." he added that I shouldn't apologize all the time because people are likely to rub my face in it when I apologize, even if its a tiny mistake. He made a point of telling me that he wasn't lecturing me, but that he wanted me to learn from his own experiences.
He then related to me that he often apologized for simple mistakes to colleagues or superiors and they would berate him instead of accepting his admission and moving on. It is the behavior of uncivilized and uncultured people, I believe, but an interesting lesson in human behavior nonetheless.
After that, I promised not to apologize again, and jokingly said, "I'll stop apologizing all the time. In fact, I promise I'll never apologize for anything ever again." He chuckled but then reminded me that he was serious.

New Acquaintances

Have you ever met someone new and trusted him or her implicitly? I do not typically trust or disclose much personal or pertinent information about myself to strangers or casual acquaintances but when I do, it is because I feel like I haven nothing to lose by holding back. I guess that is how I have felt lately. I instinctively felt that I could trust this person with myself because sHe knew who I was and where I was headed or what I wanted in life or in death. I can’t describe it any other way and for some reason, I feel like I want to express every part of it, expose the darkest corners of that dream and let you see inside.

I got that feeling recently from someone in real life and it caught me off guard. I disclosed information that I have been holding on to for a long time. I did not think twice or hesitate about disclosing it. I even felt this person was trustworthy and worthy of my truth. This has not happened to me a lot but it has started happening with more frequency. At first, I met a few people that I trusted with vaguely personal things, and then I met many people—complete outsiders from my world—but I felt that they were not outsiders, they were insiders and they knew me. They knew the deepest parts of me because they experienced, felt, and understood the same experiences.
Lately I have been focusing only on violin studies and my personal puja. I do not worry if people do not see me at the temple; in fact, I have stopped going every day. There was a time when I had to go to temple for darshan once a day. It was compulsory. Now I do not really care and many times I do not even bother going to feasts for very long if I am not feeling it. Instead, I stay home and worship my personal deities. I gather flowers and leaves from my garden for Them and bathe Them with a simple abhishek. I give them Tulasi leaves and sing for Them without fancy melodies but with heartfelt lyricism.
All right, so in my dream, I travelled to Mayapur with some friends. We would be there about a month or so and I heard that Indradyumna Maharaj was coming back to India around that time so I brought my violin with me. I waited around the Mayapur Chandradaya Mandir in hopes of seeing some familiar faces or making new friends. As it turned out, a few young women were walking by, clad in bright yellows, pinks, and whites, and carrying instruments, costumes, and sewing baskets. I immediately fell in with them and befriended their leader. They were all from Eastern Europe and met at various events. The leader was hand-sewing new outfits that employed Indo-Western fused fashion elements. I was taken aback because I have never seen another devotee wear, much less create that kind of garb for temple activities, and she was doing it by hand. I have experience with sewing machine but I will be the first to admit that my hand stitching needs more practice and I realized this would be an excellent way to learn and improve my craft. Interested, I asked her if she needed help, an assistant, to press, gather, pleat, baste and so on. I explained that I had some experience but I wanted to learn more from her and she agreed. First, I noticed she was making pleated trim by hand so I offered to show her a technique I developed that made the process much faster. When I showed her, her face lit up and she said, “That’s brilliant! What else do you know? Quickly we became best friends by exchanging methods and techniques; she also loved music and studied back home so naturally Maharaja brought her along during Harinam tours and concerts. Her quarters hosted a dozen other girls, equally talented in various fields. Some girls were dancer/choreographers, others costume designers, other actresses and directors, and some were painters. When they learned that I studied violin, they asked me to join their troupe and I was so excited that they invited me in!
Later on, I went back to the temple where I saw a disturbing sight. My mother travelled to India and was lying in a cot sick and weak. I went to see her but she said it was merely jetlag and she’d been worse before. I told her that she should have told me should would come so I could arrange lodging for her but she said, “No, just let me sleep and close the door.” When I opened the door to exit, rays of light streamed in, and I noticed some boys in bed with her, my nephews! All four curled up with grandma, snuggled in close like wolf pups in a den. I asked her why she brought them along, scolding her, “Don’t you know they can’t stay in these quarters? This is for the local pilgrims who cannot afford lodging! They need beds, not woven cots! The heat will get to them, they need running water, showers, and AC!” Next to them, I saw another devotee I recognized from Dallas. I was stunned; certainly, an American can afford a room in the guesthouse, so why was he bunched up on a horrible cot in the underbelly of the building? When I kissed my nephews and mother, they felt hot! I felt obligated to check the other devotee as well, so I touched his foot and sure enough, he was burning up with fever and his body was covered in sweat. Disturbed and embarrassed, I walked away in search of a devotee friend who runs the guest services in hopes of securing a couple rooms for my family and possibly this other devotee. I searched around the compound but I could not find him and he is usually easy to spot because he rides around on a bright blue motorcycle. Instead, I ran into my new friends and told them what was going on. They said they had some friends who would gladly take them in. Their house was outside of the temple compound but a short walk away. They also had AC, indoor plumbing with hot water and plenty of space for four young boys. I was relieved. Maybe these women were heaven sent, I thought, they were the loveliest and kindest ladies I ever met and they took me in like one of their own.

                                                                                                     

Well-Oiled Machine

Sri Gopi Nath Giri Dhari

Sri Lakshmi

Today Chitravasini and I had errands and shopping to do early in the morning so I didn't get to worship My Lordships this morning. Fortunately, I knew that today was going to be busy so I prepared the lunch menu and got most of the preliminary stuff out of the way. I didn't get home until almost 2pm, but as I don't have a fixed schedule for Their worship and so on, I figured I could run errands and do the puja later. After their abhishek and srngar, I offered Them something to eat and I was surprised to see that I completed my full routine in under an hour! I love it when the everything runs smoothly like a well-oiled machine!

Sri Sri Lakshmi Narasimha Deva

Sri Madan Gopal Ji

I have been struggling the past few weeks to get any new ideas for Deity outfits. The last time I made Their Lordships a new outfit was probably around a festival. I really want to make more time for Them and use some of the new brocade fabric that is sitting around idly. I hope I can get more time, but as it stands, I hardly get enough time for myself. Most of my time is consumed my school, puja, and practicing. I hope Lord Balaram empowers me and Lord Krishna accepts my offerings. Today my jasmine didn't give many flowers and I think this is because it's going out of season soon. I'm really upset because on top of this, my gardenia has passed away. I figured I could revive her but after weeks of struggling with her, I finally put her to rest. I uprooted her from the soil and I saw her root system was not very strong. This is unfortunate; I'm really depressed but hopefully I get more flowers and shrubs this weekend! Chandaneswar prabhu hired a landscaper to plant new gardenia shrubs for me!

nityanandam aham naumi sarvananda karam param
harinam pradam devam avadhuta shiromani 

namo maha vandanyaya krishna prema pradayate
krishnaya krishna-chaitanya namne gaura tvishe namah

Jay Gopeswar Mahadev!

Unanswered Queries

This morning I had a few errands to run before  I could go biking but I finally made it out of the house and headed to Lindsley Park. I had a weird dream about something or other but the most interesting thing so far are the confetti egg remnants around my perch.

There's confetti, flour and crushed eggshells everywhere! A small part of me is a bit grossed out by the eggshells but, mostly, I'm amused. I didn't know that anyone still played with confetti eggs or, even more fascinating, that people still go through the trouble of making them. It's notoriously tedious and time consuming.
I remember mom used to prepare weeks in advance. She would start collecting, cleaning and coloring eggs as early as February, or January, if she anticipated an egg shortage. To this day, I don't know who keeps track of egg production and consumption like she did (except for maybe commodities brokers who invest in eggs and whose livelihoods' depend on it) or how one goes about this task. WTF, mom?
I still don't know how she managed to cut such a uniform hole without shattering the eggs, or how she found the time to wash, color and fill them with colored paper confetti and flour! How she loved seeing us play with them! She really loved Easter festivities and I don't know if there was another occasion that she enjoyed as much.
These past few weeks have been stressful. Our trip to India was postponed, Purandar Acharya is throwing himself into this work, I'm biking to fill the extra time, Chandaneswar is focusing on his health and diet and Krishna Chandra seems perfectly content without his electronic devices. (He lost privileges a couple weeks back) He's almost too happy and content with out them. I mean, how will I punish him if he misbehaves? I could take his bike privileges but truly it would hurt me as much as him. I love riding together. It's the most fun we have whether we're alone or together. I really enjoy it and it gives us a great excuse to go outside at a moment's notice.
Yesterday, Chandaneswar, Purandar Acharya and I were watching a Bengali film named Kaler Rakhal but only the first hour and a half was available on YouTube. I'm so upset because there are a couple of Baul songs that I love but they're on the second half of the film. I've been searching everywhere for it with no luck. Where can it be??
Well, we're probably going to India this summer but I'm upset that we won't be able to travel with Lokojit prabhu. He's the best travel guide ever and knows all the best spots and people. At least we still have each other. I feel like we're desperately clinging to each other now more than ever before. I feel lost and alone adrift an ocean of anxiety but my raft mates keep my company and sanity. I don't know what I would be with out them. I don't know where I would be without them. I don't who I would be without them. Sometimes I think to myself, "Renounce this lifestyle and give yourself completely to Gauranga!"
What shall become of us, Thakur?

The Violin Story

This story takes place during my fourth grade year at H. S. Thompson Learning Center. I'm excited that I get to tell you this story because I've only shared this story with one person.... and I don't think it counts because that person was my therapist. So, this is the first time I've ever shared this story and its profound significance with anyone. Wow.
Alright, let me set the scene because this story takes place in an old, smelly portable behind our school. The floors squeaked and creaked and the air conditioning never worked and you had sweaty bodies smelling up the poor place and it always seemed bewilderingly fragile like a really strong gust of wind could bring it all crashing down. Well, you should know that this particular portable was no ordinary place, despite the health and hazardous code violations; it transported us to a magical realm.
I should also introduce you to Ms. Waites, who is the protagonist of this tale; though it's my story, she's the real heroine. Ms. Waites was my violin teacher, Strings director, a talented violinist, an inspirational teacher and all around well-rounded, colorful human being full of love and light.
I met Ms. Waites in Art class with Ms. Packard; she was going around signing up students for strings classes. As you may know, I sprung from the womb with my life's missions etched into my soul so I knew from the moment I saw Ms. Waites that this woman would change my life. I leaped at the opportunity to sign up and asked her a dozen questions on the spot. She went for it.
Okay, here's where things travel into a gray area in my character. When I asked my mother if I could play an instrument, she didn't want to be bothered either because I was generally a very demanding child and asked too damn many questions (nagged the hell out of her) or she didn't understand that the course and material was free. Instead of bothering myself with trying to convince my mother to sign the form, I decided to take an expedited route. Also, I knew that I probably lacked the innate persuasive abilities as a young child so I didn't even try. Who understands the reasoning and logic of a child? Who cares?
After assessing the risk involved, I decided that no life force on the face of this planet was capable of stealing this opportunity from me so I went ahead and forged my mom's signature, filled in all the necessary paper work and returned the forms to my new favorite teacher, Ms. Waites. How in the world Ms. Waites accepted it at face value is beyond me but I imagine she looked the other way due to my zeal. Maybe she was desperate for students? Who cares?
This is the best part of the story..
The day comes to get our instrument assignments and, of course, I draw the short straw of the lot. Everyone else had taken Strings before so they knew which instruments were in disrepair and they called dibs on the good ones. I was too slow, naive, and inexperienced to understand the ways of humans so I took the instrument handed to me with wide eyes and a smile. The other kids took it upon themselves to inform me of my violin's condition. I mean, they made damn sure that I knew it was a pile of junk. I was upset and Ms. Waites could tell somehow. Maybe it was my fanciful display of a temper tantrum that tipped her off... I don't know. Who cares?
Ms. Waites instinctively knew, as all great instructors do, what to tell me in order to inspire me. She appealed to my sense of work ethic, pride, and ego with just a phrase. Intuitively she said, "Melissa, if you can make this instrument sing, you can make anything sing." and with that I was pacified and determined in my mission. I told myself that day, "If anyone can make this instrument sing, it will be me." and that's been my motto since childhood. I rely strongly on my own skill and ability, not the instruments, and from that day forward that expression has been like a mantra that I whisper to myself daily.
Its important for us to remember that our tools will only take us so far in life. We must rely on our talents, skills and technical ability to carry us through the task at hand.
 :)

Political Socialization Assignment

Warning: this post will be longer and more boring than usual. Brace yourselves, yo. Seriously though, it's not boring, its a discussion for my Poli Sci course on political socialization. I wanted to stay boring and academic but one topic in particular touched me to the core so I wrote what I knew. Here's the assignment, in its entirety, for you to read:

My political socialization experience began around the age of ten. Until that time, I heard things about the governor, president, politics and the legislative process in passing but I was too young to understand how government and politics affected my life. My family was most prominent in that process and my friends were secondary. After that, I learned from reading news articles or books but typically, I made decisive opinions quickly based on what I heard from others.

As an example, a painful personal experience influenced my views on immigration law. As a child, I knew my mother came to this country illegally; she settled in this country, married, had children and lived peacefully until immigration deported her in 1996. Law enforcement detained my mother in Lew Sterrett jail and we visited her once a week or so until they sent her back to Mexico. Legally, she could not be deported because she was married to an American and her four children were American; however, she couldn’t be released either. My mother, out of options, signed a document of “voluntary deportation”. I knew my mother had no choice in the matter so to me the choice of terminology was like a slap in the face. When your choices are to remain detained in jail indefinitely or leave the country, the answer seems obvious. It was on that day that I finally understood the expression, “Between a rock and a hard place.”

Some people ask, “If you really want to come here, why not use the proper channels?” Well, my mom and dad tried the proper channels (before he was diagnosed with Huntington’s disorder). They did everything in their power, to their knowledge, and still made no progress in adjusting my mother’s legal status. The process seems straightforward and clear but my parents were not able to maneuver around the “red tape”. At some point, I imagine my parents grew frustrated and gave up; I imagine money was also an issue. The facts are that the legal process can be intimidating, confusing, frustrating and expensive for many people; even if they want to do the right thing, their circumstances may give them no other choice but to circumvent the law.

As a child, I never had opinions regarding law or politics, but as I grew up, I listened to friends and family and formed opinions about privacy, states’ rights, individual/civil liberties and criminal law. I read books that my friends recommended or researched activists and leaders they admired. I imagine my views on certain policies and laws will never change for that reason.

Legalization of marijuana is a topic I would like to discuss in earnest. First, I don’t believe that recreational marijuana use should be legalized because it conflicts with my strict religious views, however, I have also seen the painful effects that harsh drug laws has had on people. In uncertain terms, not everyone arrested with marijuana or paraphernalia is a threat to society and it seems that far too often drug charges hurt these people in other ways. I understand that medicinal marijuana has made a strong case for legislation but I also believe there should be legislation that decriminalizes recreational marijuana use to a point.

Personally, I do not feel that my views adhere to a particular group membership because my views are varied across the spectrum, but, more objectively, a close analysis of my public opinion on many topics more closely reflects liberal group membership.

P. S. My mother eventually came back, illegally. I was in the fifth grade, my siblings much younger than me, when she left and an entire summer passed without my mother until she returned home. We'd almost started the new school year when she returned and she looked completely changed. She was dark, like a chocolate-complexioned Black woman, her cousin permed her hair so she had an thick, bushy, black afro and she was emaciated. Later, I learned what my mother had to endure to return home and, to this day, it moves me to tears to know the sacrifices and risks she took to see us again. While she was gone, we were under the care of friends, teachers and neighbors who helped us dodge CPS, school authorities and housing authorities. I'm sure many of these people had conflicting views on immigration law but they helped us anyway. The women who cared for us sold their belongings: jewelry and any valuables in order to raise money for mom's legal fees; they helped us pay the rent so we didn't lose our apartment and, most importantly, they loved us like their own offspring and gave us hope. Unfortunately an acquaintance took the funds, about $3000, and we never saw her again. Sometimes I drive by her neighborhood and look around wondering if I will see her once again. 

My Deepest Darkest Secret

My new passport arrived in the mail this week. I'm really excited because the next step is to get my visas transferred to the new book. I ordered the larger passport because I intend to travel abroad as much as possible. I haven't had enough time to practice this week or do much studying because I was so exhausted from our road trip that I had a hard time catching up with my normal routine. I only went to Taekwondo a couple times this week but I feel like my body is getting back to 100%. Slowly but surely.
Tomorrow is Śrī Nityānanda Trayodaśi and I couldn't be happier. I feel like I haven't been to the temple in ages and, at the same time, like I need a break from everything. I need to withdraw and take time for myself. I don't know if that's strange but sometimes it's just better for me to relax and recover. I feel as if I'm mentally preparing for something incredibly life-changing and transformative. I don't know if its something in the air, my intuition, or what. Somehow, I feel like this trip to India is going to be ground shattering, even though I've been before and nothing particularly exciting happened.
I wanted to talk to you about my dream... the one I had when I was in India. About eight years ago, I was in Belpukur village with my in-laws and I had a weird dream. I was back in high-school except it was not a high-school anymore. The campus was also a college and a lot of my friends from school were studying or teaching there. I went there to pursue a degree and met with a few class-clowns from freshman year. I thought they were irritating in fact; their antics were no longer amusing but distracting and disruptive. I chucked a couple times but the novelty quickly wore off. I don't know what the hell this means so don't ask me. After class, another professor came in, a guru! He was someone I was close to and highly respected; he was also extremely dear to me so I felt bad that he had to deal with us, that he had to instruct us. It was strange, a saffron-clad Gaudiya monastic teaching a mathematics course? At any rate, I woke up with a feeling of urgency. I had to go back to school, take my spirituality more seriously and help others by giving back. I wanted to teach again. I wanted to play my violin again. I wanted to open an ashram, temple, and university in Belpukur. It was ingrained in my mind and for eight years it has slowly eaten away at my conscience. I feel guilty that I haven't taken steps toward my dream. I can't sleep at night because I'm trying to hash out plans to make this project happen. What do I do? Where do I start? Who do I ask for help? How will it manifest? So, I've broken this idea into smaller phases and goals to make them more realistic. I decided to pursue a degree in Music Education, as well as take some business or administrative courses. Over the years, it has nagged at me and, feeling the project was too far-fetched, I kept it hidden-- a secret. My most intimate hidden contribution to society and my goal of life.
When I first started school we had a project in one of our classes-- setting out a long-term goal, short term goals, and life long dreams. Of course, it didn't take long for my dream to come pouring out and when it did, I realized why I was so miserable. I have been locking my deepest, most daring desires away because I was afraid others would laugh at it. I don't care anymore. In fact, I've found that it helps me to discuss it with people and pick other people's brains. There are people in this world who have experience beyond our own and if we don't express our interests, there is no way they'll ever know who we really are. They will never have an idea of our inner most inclinations and that person may be a hidden gem, a treasure trove of knowledge waiting to give its bounty.
So I'm letting you know in hopes that you're also a vidya-ratna, a gem of knowledge and wisdom, and will assist me or guide me in actualizing my dream. Thank you.
About Sri Bilva-pakkha, Belpukhuriya, Belpukur

Winter Adventure

Lonely Plains

There is nothing but lonesome empty plains as far as the eyes can see as we enter the Texas landscape. Gone are the regal red rock mountains and rugged terrain of Arizona and New Mexico. Why, the very sight of the gentle slopes and fields signal my imminent arrival back home. I am relaxed and poised as I arrive in my home state. It isn’t as if I was unwelcome elsewhere, but something about Texas welcomes me, soothes me, and lulls me into a restful state.

Last night I had a strange dream that broke me from my sleep. When I awoke, I realized that I had the same dream before, except this time I couldn’t recall the exact details. While I wanted to disclose the entire dream, I could only recall a few things and those caused me shame so I didn’t tell my husband. At last, I told him that I was startled awake but that I couldn’t remember why.  Interestingly enough, he told me that he had a strange dream that was also identical to a previous dream, almost a year old.

My dream went something like this: we were traveling en masse throughout India on pilgrimage; this isn’t unusual as we have plans to travel to India soon. Around that time, a young handsome man seduced me and to atone for my sinful thoughts I resolved to shave my head and give up any semblance aisvarya or opulence. This detail is also striking because for years, I contemplated monasticism and a few years ago I grew obsessed with shaving my head much to Chandaneswar’s protest. A few days ago, Chandaneswar mentioned that we were going to visit Thirupati Balaji and I could shave my head there if I still wanted to do it. Anyhow…

In the dream,  I removed my precious gems and metals and dressed myself only in simple cloth. Thereafter, I decorated myself with tilak, sacred clay markings upon my upper body and asked my husband’s blessings to perform penance. He indicated that he would not give me his blessings because he felt that it was unnecessary for me to atone for a mere mental lapse in chastity. After lecturing me on the nature of Kali Yuga, the age of quarrel and hypocrisy, he advised me to forgive myself and move forward with my spirituality with greater enthusiasm but not to remove myself from society or take to asceticism or renunciation.

At this point, I argued that if I remained in society and continued to associate freely with materialistic society, it was possible or very likely that the quality and sincerity of my spiritual endeavors would slowly deteriorate over time.

I added that if one man had so easily tempted me after only a passing encounter, it was highly probable that I would be weaker in more trying circumstances. To that, he countered that everyone in Kali Yuga commits sins by mind and we should neglect them. After some discussion, we both decided to take to renunciation and travel together.  Strange dream, no?

What Shall I Do?

The other day I looked into your eyes and wondered if they had any end. Where do you come from, dear one, and how were you created? From which materials did the Creator fashion you that rendered you immensely and intensely sweet and tender?

How can I understand your mind? Have you anything else in your heart besides inherent saintliness and compassion for fallen souls such as me? My Liege, bestow your warm embrace and poised grace upon me!

Glen Rose Day Trip

So, to add to our travel adventures, we're going on road trips on the weekends. We're doing it every weekend until it's time to leave for India. This weekend we went to Glen Rose, Texas. It was a quick, last-minute day trip to Dinosaur Valley Sate Park and Fossil Rim, but we had a lot of fun. Purandar has never been to Fossil Rim in his eleven years in Texas... can you believe it? We took a few pictures on the iPhone but none on my iPhone so I don't have any photos of the  wildlife to upload for you. I wish I did though. Also, the Paluxy was freezing, but it looked so nice that it was tempting to jump in anyway. We didn't though; we'd have died of hypothermia if we did. We hiked around the trails in the park until we were dead tired and finally headed home. Glen Rose is a nice destination if you have a free day or even a week (there are plenty of cabins and lodgings in town) if you'd like to do some exploring, just remember to bring your walking shoes and sunscreen. :)
If you have kids, take them to Fossil Rim for a safari adventure. My advise is that you buy a membership because it pays for itself even if you only go twice a year. The membership also gets you discounts at the Caldwell and Dallas zoos so its really worth it, in my humble opinion.
Here's a couple pics I snapped on the iPhone of Purandar trying to look cool. I told them to get walking shoes or hiking boots, but do they ever listen to me?
Nooooo