The Disciple's Vow

At times I feel overwhelmed, alone and afraid. I don't even recognize myself sometimes and I feel as if I've transformed into an entirely different person. I've learned that, like a marriage, it is impossible for one to truly know their spiritual partner. One could spend his or her entire life with someone and still have a shallow or incomplete understanding of that individual. A spiritual master may see only what representation the disciple portrays of him/herself. (The eternal spiritual master who resides in the heart, Sri Guru, however, is never fooled.)
Disciples frequently lack the maturity or complexity to understand the desire and wishes of the spiritual master. Likewise, it is daunting to understand the Self. While the pact between master and disciple is before God to each other, allegiance in spiritual life is also an allegiance to the Self. The disciple is obligated to act always in his spiritual best interest. By no exaggeration, it is the primary priority of the initiated disciple to remain chaste to her eternal spiritual identity and duty. Failure to do so would hamper all progress and lead her astray; in fact, such misgivings could turn her away from the spiritual path entirely if given to offenses and accumulated misconceptions.
I do not know my Self. I do not understand my Self. I've often succumbed to doubt, temptation, fear and, most of all, hesitation. I fear to act, speak, feel or think for fear that it may not be palatable to others. I fear that my actions could be misconstrued or condemned or deemed reckless. I've found few things that truly bring me joy-- music, martial arts, and dedicated study. I've found that often I learn more valuable lessons in pursuit of mundane knowledge than in a dry discourse. I've seen drug addicts, addicts of the flesh, gamblers and so-called lost souls with more humanity, compassion and wisdom to offer than even the most weathered practitioner in temple. I find their lessons most valuable, relevant and influential-- for they remind me that the Lord can lead anyone back Home just as easily as illusion can lead her astray.
O Keshava! I've seen You staring back at me in the pages of a book. I have seen the Lord-- He was hidden between scribbled notes on the page. The Lord was found in careful arithmetic and calculations, in the relaxed breath between poetic phrases, dancing amid notes on sheet music. He was intelligence, beauty, an exasperated sigh and fluent understanding breaching forth from the page. I felt the Divinity within myself, around me, encoded within the multiverse, and brimming forth unbounded! I felt alone in this realization as I feared no one else had this same vision and yet I felt swaddled, safe in the Divine Feminine's arms.
Of all my identities, I found that the one I treasure, protect and keep hidden is the one that I should nurture and cultivate. She is locked away in a tower, accessible only with great effort. She is appalled and frustrated and distrustful of the outside world. She lives in her own imagination, in a fantastic faery-tale realm with ivory towers that offer her fortification from the grotesque. She is alone and peaceful, and yet restless and yearning for escape. She remains chaste, loyal and faithful to her spiritual master and awaits patiently his orders and instructions!

Gouranga Duti Pada

Today I woke up late at 5am. Our hope was that I would get the boys up early enough to make it to the early morning service (mangala-arati) but I figured it wouldn't happen so I prepared for my home altar service. The boys got up relatively early for a weekend (and spring break at that) and they helped out a lot with the services. Since today is a Gouranga Mahaprabhu's appearance day, we planned a large festival and worship for Gouranga. I sewed a new outfit for Giriraj Lal, a turban, two dhotis and chadars for Gour-Nitai. I thought the turban would take more time and I wasn't sure if I would be able to finish it. Kanai volunteered to make garlands, he designed a garland for Giriraj that was adorable.
We took a breaks for breakfast and lunch but the entire day was full of preparations for the festival. I managed to finish the outfits before it was time to go to the temple celebrations. I changed Nitai into his new outfit and quickly showered and changed before we left to Radha Kalachandji's temple. When we got there, I immediately couldn't stand it. The place was already packed and the festival was just getting started. I wore my new yellow silk sari with this gorgeous embroidery work. I think it's my new favorite sari. After the temple's bathing ceremony, it was time for us to get home and do our home deity's bathing ceremony. We did a bathing ceremony, worship ceremony and I got to lead the Gour arati prayers. We were supposed to go back to temple for the procession around the block but the boys and I were hungry and exhausted so we decided to go back home and eat. Dinner was fantastic. I was full so I decided to lie down for a bit and check Facebook. Maria and I took some cute photos today but she's really good at taking photographs.
I wanted to shared a prayer in glorification of Lord Gouranga's two lotus feet:

The Lotus Feet of Gouranga are my life and soul.

They shelter and protect me from the onslaught of material suffering.

The Lotus Feet of Gouranga are my only refuge.

They are like an oasis in the burning, desert-like material existence

My Lord Gouranga has come with the gift of Divine Love of God

He freely distributes it to whomever asks for it

Regardless of whether one is qualified or not.

My Sweet Lord Gouranga has shown the path back to Godhead

By personally taking up the process of chanting the Holy Name.

May that Holy Name bring upon Divine Love in my heart!

May that Holy Name purify my existence!

May that Holy Name always dance upon my tongue!

The Lotus Feet of Gouranga are my treasure, my soul, my greatest solace! 

Bored Ramblings

Last night I had a dream that I was cooking kheer, rice pudding, and it reminded me of my fifth wedding anniversary in Belpukur when I made kichuri (rice and lentil stew) and kheer for Madan Gopal. I can't recall the dream, but from what I can put together, it was pretty lucid and realistic. There were no demons and I was no demon slayer. There was no handsome stranger trying to seduce me away from my partner. There was no grand temple inauguration or festival I was presiding over. How boring. What I can tell you is that when I woke up this morning, I specifically remembered dream-self desperately wanting to make kheer for Giriraj so I think it means Giriraj wants kheer. :)
In other news, Chandaneswar prabhu is training me in deity worship. We have been increasing our regular service since Giri Govardhan śila arrived in our home this summer and Chandaneswar prabhu wants me to know all the priestly stuff. It's slow going because between school, Krishna Chandra, martial arts, Giriraj, and sewing, I have to brush up on my Bengali to read up on procedures. It's definitely worth the trouble though, regardless of whether I receive brahmin initiation or not.
Since Giriraj arrived, I've been doing more crafting. Giriraj is definitely easier to sew for because He doesn't have specific dimensions that I must adhere to like the Deity forms. Also, since He receives daily bathing and dressing and doesn't have a wardrobe, I'm constantly designing new jewelry and outfits for him. Sometimes we borrow items from the other Deities for Giriraj to wear. I might knit or crochet something for him tomorrow. It's Odana sasti.
I'm supposed to go to India again this winter and I might see you-know-who. I'm still mad at him because he's an idiot, but I love him so I guess I should try to reconcile the relationship or at least try not to slap the living hell out of him. Anyway, I talked to him on the phone a couple weeks back and he apologized, slightly, but I imagine even that was a huge step for him and his enormous ego. I don't even know why the hell I answered the phone. I don't even know why the hell I told him I'd be in Mayapur. I don't even know why the hell I want to see him after all that bullshit he did and said to me. At any rate, I can't wait to hang out with Sanat Kumar and Jayadev's family. Hopefully we get to travel to Vrindavan or something. I really want to take them on pilgrimage. They seem hopeful as well.
The end of the semester is upon us and you know what that means-- finals week. In my case, I have a music jury I'm not particularly excited about. I feel like I'm butchering this poor concerto at this point. I don't think practicing this last couple days is going to give me any more of an edge; I think I've already over practiced and strained my body this semester. That's probably why my shoulders are sore every morning and why my hands cramp or go numb. I feel weakness or numbness in my right hand more often than my left and I always thought it was because my muscles were developing again. Last week my left hand cramped and fell asleep during my lesson! Somehow I managed to play through it, we were sight-reading a Bach partita, double stops and all. I didn't tell my master because I was afraid he'd make me put my instrument down for fear of dropping it. I think I worry him. If I ask him about stuff like this, he gives me the worried look tells me to sit down for a minute.
What else? There's a dozen other things I'd love to talk about but I can't right now. I have to finish some Chemistry homework/labs. :((
Oh, I hate typing Chem labs. There's a million data cells and you have to keep your data organized and shit or you may screw up your report. Great fucking waste of hours of your time.

Drowning in the Ocean of Material Existence

My offering to Srila Rtadhavaj Swami on the occassion of his Vyasa Puja:

শ্রী-রূপ-মঞ্জরী-পদ, সেই মোর সম্পদ,

সেই মোর ভজন-পূজন

সেই মোর প্রাণ-ধন, সেই মোর আভরণ,

সেই মোর জীবনের জীবন

To my beloved Spiritual Masters,

I am drowning in the ocean of material existence. I have to take a moment to let that sink in and remind myself of this harsh reality.
As a child, I didn't have many playmates or friends. As a result, I often imagined or fantasized. Many times, I would daydream about happy moments with my only friend, my imaginary friend. At night I cried myself to sleep and begged the Lord to make my wish come true. "Please, my Sweet Lord, please let me be Your friend. I have no companion except for You. Please be my friend."
As a five or six-year old child, I never imagined that I would one day encounter a rich theology and practice that accepted and encouraged this type of relationship with the Almighty. It certainly seemed strange to my immediate relatives so I kept my yearnings secret and hidden.
Lacking friends, I imagined that the Lord Himself would befriend me, but I knew it was only possible in the hereafter. I imagined that we would play leapfrog, frolic in the grass, climb trees, catch crickets and go for a swim in the creeks. I would never be tired or unhappy as long as I was in the company of my Best Friend. He would be my eternal companion.
Lacking guidance and proper counsel, I prayed, hoped and fantasized about a perfectly wise and benevolent soul to mentor and guide me. I begged the Lord to reveal that person, that perfect sage and ever well-wisher to my material eyes. I hoped that I wouldn't have to wait until the afterlife to meet him.
Some nights, as I knelt before my altar and prayed before an image of the Guardian Angel, I felt or heard a reassuring voice that soothed my heart and alleviated my distress. "You will see me." and "I will meet with you face to face."

Even in my wildest imaginations I never thought that the entity I simplistically identified as the Guardian Angel or the Holy Spirit would manifest or reveal himself in my lifetime. I was broken and shattered inside for many years and my faith gradually dwindled. What were the chances that, if such a perfected  being existed, the Lord would reveal that person to me and grant me the opportunity to associate with him personally?
The Lord works in mysterious ways, they say. In order to shatter my doubts and reestablish my faith, the Lord not only revealed His most confidential servant, the jagat-guru, Srila Prabhupada, He also revealed His confidential pastimes, Names, instructions, and associates to me.

I am now confident that I will one day play with Krishna. It shall one day come to pass. It may take millions of births but I am certain of this truth for only one reason: it is certain because the Lord has revealed to me the many splendorous manifestations of Sri Guru. I have seen them and met them face to face.
And so it happens that I am no longer drowning the ocean of material existence. I am frolicking happily in the forest of Braj hand in hand with Krishna-- it is solely a matter of time.

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.

                                                                                                     

Dream Drama

Today I woke up at three in the morning after a series of strange dreams. I can't recall them but I can assure you they left me with an uneasy feeling. I went to the bathroom to wash my face and use the bathroom. The past couple days my right hand has felt weak and stiff; I noticed a tremble in my ring finger when I play piano so I'm a bit worried but mostly I'm certain it has more to do with my B12 deficiency and is probably nothing serious. When I mentioned to Chandaneswar prabhu that I had a strange dream and my hand was bothering me, he offered to massage it for me. I got some mustard oil and he told me about his weird dream. He first told me that he saw his choto mama (younger maternal uncle) and choto mami (aunt) together even though his uncle passed away a few years ago. In another dream he saw his village, we had moved to Belpukur and were living a simple life among the locals in a mud house. Prabhu's relatives still live in Belpukur or near Mayapur so it is strange we moved into a separate house. Then again, it isn't so strange considering that Chandaneswar prabhu and his mother are estranged. In the dream, we lived near one of Belpukur's temples on the other side of town (I say this as if Belpukur is very big to begin with) and suddenly my mother-in-law shows up with her party of women for matri sanga. In essence, this is a group of gossip-mongers in the guise of religious or pious ladies who gather in someone's home on the pretext of religious ceremonies and discourse. Certainly, Chandaneswar prabhu approves of any spiritual activity, but in this context he was very displeased. He started scolding his mother for showing up with her group of people, for presuming that she could enter our home without our consent or permission, and finally for her general rowdiness. She insisted that she had a right to enter our home whenever she damn well pleased since she's his mom. Chandaneswar countered that she was no mother of his; as far as he was concerned she had a son and four daughters, nothing less, nothing more. At this time the street sweeper or garbage truck rolled by and shook Chandaneswar prabhu from his sleep so I couldn't even find out what happened in this episode of his dream.... and what a spectacle of a dream! Sometimes I wish I could pay admission into other people's dreams because they seem funnier or stranger than my own.

Bleeding Out

Today we went for our usual walk after dinner. Krishna Chandra caught up with Rasa Lila Devi. Chandaneswar and I chanted around the block. We went for darshan in the evening and I saw Indulekha Devi at the temple making garlands. I haven't seen her in a while so we caught up for a few minutes. I asked her if I could assist her in her service, and she kindly obliged. She then told me about her recent trip to India; she said she became gravely ill there and almost died due to lack of treatment facilities and prompt care. Where there were devotees, they lacked proper resources and treatment; where treatments were available, the staff refused to treat her without payment up front!
I couldn't believe my ears, but then again I could believe my ears, having spent an extended period in India previously myself and becoming ill there. I honestly felt alone and hopeless there; at times I even contemplated the worst-- "Just give up, go drown yourself in the Ganga. It's hopeless. Nobody care anyway."
I hope to spend more time with Indulekha. Recently I re-evalutated my priorities during my travels and realized that our community needs serious help. There are many things that, like Indulekha's gut, are hemorrhaging even though there are solutions, none are implemented due to lack of resources, training, or sheer indifference. What would become of us if we neglected the care of even one Vaishnav? What would our community lose? Can we afford to lose even one?
Not only are we hemorrhaging, but we need to replace the lost blood, and treat the source of infection. The problem is multifaceted, therefore, treatment should be approached with many perspectives... not just one view. I apologize for the series of medical metaphors. Maybe Indulekha's story shocked me deeply, or maybe I'm just impressionable, or maybe I watch too much Grey's Anatomy. I don't know. We have a problem and it needs addressing.
The other day I remembered several devotees that I was close to, and remembered that they are all gone. They have left the movement, moved or away or passed away. I don't know if you remember Lalita-Krishna prabhu, but he was always very kind and instructive to me. Lavanga-Latika told me the other day that he left his body, and I was completely oblivious that he was ill again. Another devotee was Ramachandra prabhu; both left the community about eight years ago. Some devotees passed away, like Urjeswat prabhu, Bharat prabhu, and Lalita Krishna prabhu, and sometimes I cry because I feel I can't connect with the new generation. My ashram leaders, instructors, and mentors have moved on or passed away. What will become of me and our movement as we have to face the inevitable truth that all things must pass?
I don't know what would have happened if Indulekha had left us, but surely it would have left such a gaping void in our community that we would struggle to recover for years. Could I personally be capable of facing another death? I don't think so. I don't know if I can handle it anymore. On average, I'm losing a loved one about every two years, and the clock is ticking. I can't afford to waste any time.
Here I've been happily enjoying my summer with friends and family, partying my youthful energy away. 

The Cobra Disciple

Today Chandaneswar prabhu displayed his ugra-murti, fearsome manifestation.
In the past ten years, I have never seen him that angry and I'm his wife!
What was funny about it was how he related the story to me later. He appeared to become furious with a woman for no apparent reason. I didn't know that in actuality she was bothering him for a while with the same questions even after he told her he had a migraine. At home, he stated simply, "Even a garden snake can bite." It reminded me of a story I heard about the sage Narada.
On one of his journeys, Narada muni met with a cobra who had spiritual inclinations. Naturally, Narada muni converted him to the vaishnav faith and gave him some simple instructions to follow. The snake became immersed in chanting and gave up striking humans. After some time, the locals took notice and began tormenting that pacifist cobra. On his next trek toward that part of the world, sage Narada stopped by to visit his cobra-disciple to check on his progress. When Narada met with his disciple, he asked about his well-being and progress. The cobra said he was miserable as a vaishnav. Narada quickly asked his disciple why he was unhappy. "Harinam is delightful, bhakti is delightful, so why should you be miserable?" The cobra then related how the humans were abusing him in his new-found pacifism. Narada scolded him, "I told you not to attack, I never said you shouldn't show your fangs or raise your hood."
Sometimes it is necessary to display our displeasure, anger, or frustration in order to accomplish something worthwhile... even as vaishnavs.

Marjanam

Today was the Gundica Marjan festival at our local temple. Appropriately, I'm in the process of cleaning house. Yesterday I organized & sorted saris with the help of a close friend. I'm giving away dozens of outfits (again); I feel compelled to change my physical appearance, identity, and style. Not only that, but I feel like the exterior is symptomatic of something I feel deep inside. I'm transforming and undergoing a metamorphosis. I've felt this way a lot this past decade but sometimes I feel like I'm going in circles. (I'm constantly enduring painful growth spurts) Why do I feel this way, even after ten years of conscious endeavor toward growth? I'm starting to feel like there is something I'm missing or skipping. I've been feeling more open and forthcoming lately but I also really raw & emotional. I don't like feeling raw & emotional because it's powerfully overwhelming to me. I find myself feeling insecure at times & when I try to analyze those feelings, I get frustrated or feel self-conscious. What's going on? I suppose the only thing to do is surrender to those emotions and let myself feel them thoroughly. In fact, it may be cathartic to let them pass through me instead of holding back. I'm afraid though, and I'm more afraid of exploring these emotions. I find myself in prayer sometimes, distracted from the external world and begging my Lord and Lady for help.

"My Dear Kalachandji, please help me. 

Nobody can help me but You. 

Save me please, Lord, turn me into one of Sri Radha's loyal maidservants; 

I plead you, place me under Her care. 

O Devi, please guide my heart toward Your lotus feet! 

Please let me surrender to You and no one else. 

I have no other friend, no other shelter and no other recourse,

 but Your service, name, worship, and shelter. 

I beg of You, Goddess, save me from my wretched materialistic desires. 

Prepare me for Your Ladyship's service. You are my only resort."

Venti

My life has flashed by me in a blur these past few weeks.
I am now party to an infatuation gone awry.
I don't have any idea how many weeks of schoolwork I have to catch-up on.
I want to talk to someone desperately, but have found it hard to open up.
I'm beginning to think I have a legitimate disorder...
well, not really.
I'm the sanest person I know.
I'm also extremely happy.
 It's really weird, not in the sense that I'm not normally happy.
In the sense that I normally can't appreciate the situation for what it is.
I'm in a strange conundrum lately.
I'm satisfied with the way things are, and yet I find myself restless and longing for more.
I tell myself this is just my false ego and bodily identification and yearning for material sensuality.
Except, I find myself regretting all that at times, and I sometimes go into introspective trances as if I were daydreaming.
It makes me really wonder what the hell is going on.
Sometimes I snap out of it when I see or feel something I enjoy.
Sometimes it happens if I hear a beautifully arranged piece of music that moves me deep inside.
I forget all about spirituality and wonder if I'm not missing out.
I ask myself if I'm just trying to make myself feel superior to the rest of humanity by depriving myself of more sensual pleasures on the plea of spirituality, austerity, and some such.
Whatever.
When I'm meditating, I don't usually get powerful realizations.
Lately I feel them coming on with more frequency and I have this urge to release myself to them.
Surrender!
But I'm torn, entangled, conflicted.
Which way do I go?

My Humble Thanks

School is fantastic. I still have my 4.0 even though several people said it wouldn’t last. “You’ll get burned out!” Well, maybe I would have but the fact remains that I’ve accomplished my goal so far. I am reminded of the adage, “Slow and steady wins the race.” I am nothing if not slow and steady. My friends and family laud me for that quality.
I haven’t named my violin yet, but if she had a name, I’d name her Anastasia, resurrection, because has resurrected me. I’m with her most of the time at school, and with my friends and family the rest of the time. Of course, I am always with the Lord; Chaitya-guru guides me from within. I've relied heavily on Nitai-Gaura mantra meditation and pranayam to get me through daily tasks like focusing on boring documents or presentations. I didn't know it was possible but it is. Gaura Nam is my heart; Nitai Nam is my life. I feel a renewed sense of joy when I chant... it can only mean one thing.
Lately I’ve been spending a lot of time practicing my violin. I spend my time with Kreutzer, Bach, Tchaikovsky, Handel, and Mozart. I started playing violin seriously this semester, and I'm focusing on improving my piano skills. I practice classical repertoire everyday, and I’ve made a commitment to finishing a degree in Music Therapy. I would love to be a therapist and counselor, employing music to heal people in pain, trauma, and crises. 
I feel great to have accomplished my goals so far, but I couldn’t do it without the support of my friends and family. Without them, I wouldn’t have the courage to face it every day. They inspire me to do better for others and myself. They challenge me to reach for bigger goals. Thank you!

Radha Madhava-Kalachandji

This morning, at 3:51 am, I woke up from a strange dream. I dreamt I was at a temple, possibly Mayapur, during a large festival gathering. From what I could tell, this was not an American temple, it looked like Mayapur Chandradaya mandir,  except Radha Kalachandji stood where Radha Madhava stand amidst the sakhira. I scanned the temple room to find familiar faces, but to no avail. I pondered if this would be my last opportunity to see Them once again, and gasped for breath. The thought alone petrified and paralyzed me in fear. I threw myself upon the floor, offering astanga pranam, and began rolling my entire body, such as the Bangladeshi mothers do in full, loving surrender.
"I may never see you again, my Lord. I don't know when I will see you again." It seems from my behavior, that this was a special darshan, meaning, no one else saw Kalachandji; this was a special significator for something amazing and rare. When I looked up, I saw a familiar face, a devotee from our community was taking darshan of Radha Madhava-Kalachandji; she was completely alone, and she was wearing non-devotional attire. I thought this was strange because she usually wears saris.
When I looked up to see Kalachandji, I noticed that He was taking darshan of Mataji; Sri Radhe and Kalachandji were having darshan of their devotee, and Kalachandji gracefully smiled at her. I could understand that only by special mystic vision could I witness this occurrence, and I bowed before Their Lordships once again, rolling on the ground.
I typically don't journal these dreams publicly for the same reason, but I thought I would write it anyway. I don't know whether I should reveal this dream to this Mataji or if I should keep it secret. I have a feeling this dream has a deep significance, and it may be better if I keep it to myself. 

Adventures and Servitude

Last week we left for Colorado for a friend's birthday and spent five days there. We got to hike around Mount Evans, but a storm prevented us from going to the top. Strangely, several days before, I had a dream about a pink thunderstorm on a mountaintop that angrily fired lightning bolts at our feet. I'm glad we didn't take that risk, and stayed closer to the cabins and camping grounds. I collected some pine resin from there, and this morning I burned some on a cow dung coal. 

Today I managed to wake up early, worship my deities, and serve Tulasi Devi in her greenhouse-shrine.

Krishna Chandra accompanied me this morning, watered and misted Tulasi Devi, and then picked mañjaris with me. We didn't have to pick too many mañjaris because there were plenty in the pujari room fridge. After completing our seva, Krishna Chandra grabbed some puris, and waited patiently while I cleaned the arati paraphernalia. I brought some fresh Tulasi leaves and mañjaris home for my personal deity worship, and it feels almost foreign because I haven't worshipped my Lords in an entire week. Thankfully, Purandar Acharya prabhu was here to cook and care for them while we were gone. 

Today a friend of the family is having a housewarming party. They recently purchased a nice house in the neighborhood, and we want to drop by for Kirtan. I really like their new house, it is huge-- three enormous bedrooms, three bathrooms, an indoor and outdoor jacuzzi, swimming pool, and nice yard. I can't believe they got it at such a great price too; they're really lucky. 

Bhakti Yoga and Friends

Yesterday morning I woke up early and planned to attend the morning program. Krishna Chandra had other plans however, and we ended up staying home. He didn't even want to to ride his bike at the park. Increasingly frustrated, I feel asleep after breakfast and ignored him the rest of the morning. I realise that I tend to pout in the corner when I can't get my way. It's also surprising how easily depressive I can be. Though I haven't had any symptoms for several months, I can easily fall back into a weak mentality when I'm stressed. Although I'm the adult, Krishna Chandra has more power and control in the relationship and it can be incredibly annoying. Im still not sure how to tackle this but I'm in a research and development phase. 

After waking up, I whipped up a quick lunch: pasta with vegetables in a tahini-almond sauce. I had more fruit left, so I milked my kefir in hopes of having a healthy snack later. It was around lunch time that I started receiving a dozen messages, texts, emails, etc. almost simultaneously. It was as if everyone wanted my attention at the same time, and it felt good for a minute until it became distracting and a hindrance. Chandaneśwar prabhu arrived home later, we watched the game and were horribly disappointed. In the late afternoon my sisters arrived and we engaged in light conversation. They also wanted some services performed: Palm reading and waxing. I busied myself waxing one sisters legs while Chandaneśwar read the other's palm. By this time it was late, so I invited them to the Yoga center. Maria and Josue wanted to go but Tiffany wanted to stop by the temple gift shop. We parted ways, and Maria joined us at the  yoga center. I took my violin with me so I could accompany Lavanga-latika during bhajans and later Maharaj answered queries. The class went long, and I started to feel sleepy by the soft lull of his voice. 

Friends, family, and well-rounded day of fun and spiritually charging activities was just what I needed. 

My Friends

Sometimes I forget how lucky I am.
I have great friends.
I have a rewarding life.
I enjoy my work.
I am fulfilled by my service.
I delve deeply with close friends.
I protect the ones I love.
They protect me back.
I am extremely fortunate.

When I am sad, or feeling down, they come forward and hold my hand.
They speak encouraging words of wisdom and determination.
They shake me from my misery.
When I'm sick and need nourishment, they drop by and cook for me.
They rub my tummy, neck, or shoulders.
Whatever hurts. Whatever helps.
I am like a child, and they pamper me with affection.

They pick up groceries, prescriptions, and run errands with me.
They offer to do these things for me when I am frustrated or overwhelmed.
They help me pick out my classes, schedule courses, and even recommend teachers.
I can get a second opinion, and pick their brains when I am confused.
They know me better than I know myself.
They advise me against bad ideas, and encourage me in good decisions.
They better me, and help me better myself.

My friends remember my birthdays and anniversaries, and buy me cool stuff.
No, they shower me with love and thoughtful gifts.
I don't ever have to remind them.
They remind me, and forgive me when I forget.
I get plenty of hugs, kisses, and warm reciprocation.

They reward my good behavior, and scold me when I do something inconsiderate.
They patch things up when I shatter them.
They resolve issues when I'm too frustrated, conflicted, or tired to work it through myself.
They encourage me in my spirituality, and advise me when I am lacking.
They love me when I hate myself.

They do these things because they know I will reciprocate.
They know I would do this much for them, and even more.
This is how I show my love of Godhead, it is my devotional service.

Akshay Tritiya Vrata

On Sunday evening, exhausted and dehydrated, I collapsed in my dining room and hit the floor. I knew I was going to lose consciousness. I felt that my mind was unfocused. I was not sharp. I felt dull, slow, and foggy. I sat at the dining table, pushed my textbooks away, and began sipping homemade lemonade. It was too sweet for my taste, though, and in a sad attempt to adjust it, I stumbled toward the kitchen area. I felt dizzy, nauseous, and began to tremble. I quickly diluted the lemonade and gulped it down as quickly as possible. As I reached my seat again, I sensed there was no way to delay the inevitable. I was going to pass out soon, so I made another sad attempt to protect myself. I turned away from my dining table, and leaned out toward the floor in hopes of laying down before I collapsed. I could tell there was not enough time, so with my last ounce of strength I folded my palms, half praying, half defensive position, and tucked my face into my hands. I knew my body would naturally assume a fetal position in order to protect my face and internal organs, so I surrendered, and trembling in fear, began to pray and weep before my brain shut down.

Krishna Krishna Krishna 

Krishna Krishna, help me!

Nitai please protect me!

 My body trembled and quaked; my brain shut down, and I felt like I was being electrocuted. When I woke up, I was lying on the floor with my hands under my cheeks. My face hurt, my lips and nose were swollen and throbbing, and my face was wet. "Am I bleeding?" Two solitary tears streamed down my cheek, and I slowly regained consciousness. I pushed myself up from the floor and reached for my drink. I sat there, bewildered, terrified, and alone. I didn't bother calling my husband, son, godbrother, sister, or neighbors for help. I just sat there on the dining room floor chanting the Lord's names, and thanking Him for manifesting Himself in my mind and heart. 

After raising my blood pressure and replacing my fluids, I sat in the dining room in total shock and disbelief: I was completely terrified and panicked, but somehow I remembered to chant the Lord's names. Today is Akshay Tritiya and I want to re-commit myself to chanting the Lord's name, remembering Him, and surrendering to His will. I want to be determined in the face of Death, and constantly remember Sri Krishna against all odds.

Bad Dreams, Good Conversations

On Tuesday morning I woke up early in the morning after a bad dream. The dream itself was not a nightmare, or horrible, or frightening, but it contained a bad omen within it. The omen was a type of astrological phenomenon, it was a bright, white, effulgent moon-like planet, shaped like a bull. It appeared resplendent, but possibly eclipsed somehow, and a red star passed over the bull's head, and appeared like a third eye decorating his crown. Many astrologer devotees exclaimed it was ominous, and danger would befall mankind. "An eclipse, or any strange astrological phenomena is always inauspicious and forebodes evil. We must bathe and chant sincerely to counteract this evil." Others asserted that a bull could not be foreboding, as cows are always auspicious, and dear to the Lord. "Krishna is fulfilled, it is an omen of good tidings. The Lord is pleased with our feast and offerings." Everyone was in disagreement, and our festival was in discord. After the dream, I almost felt like staying home, and not leaving the house at all. I had a sense that something terrible would happen, and that it was better to stay home. After a couple hours, a shower, and Krishna worship, I felt much better, and had completely forgotten the dream. I forgot it so well, in fact, that I did not remember to record or analyze it for days. In the afternoon, I told my husband that I had a great day; in fact, nothing horrible occurred. I had three very distinct in-depth conversations with acquaintances and friends.
The first conversation took place on the bus on the way to school with a young man I know from temple. He and I typically ride the same bus, but I avoid conversing with him at length. Some mornings I greet him politely, but many times I keep a respectful distance and don't speak to him at all. For all purposes, we are practically two strangers on a bus, but on Tuesday, we somehow got to know each other more closely. I asked him about school, but then the conversation was steered toward more philosophical ideas. We discussed debating, philosophizing, and more. As the conversation warmed up, I realized that he and I had much in common. In fact, I will say he reminds me of an earlier version of myself. In my youth, I also took much pride and pleasure in debating philosophy, theories, ideas, and so on. We kept talking the entire ride until we reached school. We parted ways at school, and I headed to class early.
As I arrived, I sat in the hall and greeted a classmate, and we began discussing American culture, or the lack thereof. I expressed to my classmate that, unfortunately, our society does not place much emphasis on culture or respectfulness. Some are uneducated but cultured, others educated but uncultured, some are neither educated nor cultured, but rarely do you find both. I reached the conclusion that I would rather befriend a cultured person, even if he is not highly educated, because such a person is capable of reason and understanding, whereas an uncultured person is not broad-minded, even if he is highly educated. We touched slightly on parenting, and cultivating this quality in children, and he praised me for my efforts with my own child and nephews. This ended our conversation, and we quickly shuffled into the piano lab.
During class our professor mentions music history, and at times we get sidetracked with topical news, current events, and so forth. The small talk makes for great conversational kindling; we sometimes end up discussing deeper issues on society, culture, education, and so on. I did not suspect that discussing current movies and music would lead to a spiritual conversation, but that is exactly what happened. We mentioned a popular movie, and she spoke briefly about a doctor who wrote a book after researching reincarnation and past lives decades ago. She said she was always very skeptical about those things, and added, "I guess everyone is a skeptic until it happens to you." Then, our professor revealed that she believed in spirits, ghosts, past lives and reincarnation. After class, we spoke more intimately, and she recommended a couple books to read on the subject of past life regression, a topic that interested me as a child. I was very happy to hear that she kept an open mind regarding this topic.
I'm glad I left the house Tuesday, for if I had stayed in, I would not have had the stimulating and revealing conversations with my acquaintance,  classmate, or professor. 

Rescuing the Lord

Last night, I had a dream about a local devotee turned drama player. She has previously acted in temple dramas, and in my dream she had become a famous stage player. I was excited to see her on stage at a local university campus. As I approached the campus I heard a loud, nagging cry in my mind. I could hear the voice, but it seemed no one else could perceive it. I wondered, "Who is that?" and the voice clearly replied, "Who do you think?"
It was the Lord's voice, and He had specific demands. First, He informed me that he was being neglected by the young devotee actress. He complained that since she had become popular and successful, she had started to neglect Him. He was in the form of a small marble stone statue and traveled alongside her as she toured. He mentioned, "She has a lover who gives her gifts of flowers, jewelry, and sweets, but she does not share any of it with Me. She could at least offer something to Me, anything. She does not bathe, dress, feed, or put me to rest. I am just a statute to her. I am cold, hungry, sleepy, and lonely. I am so exhausted and have not slept for days. Come get me and take me to your home."
Hearing of this regrettable behaviour, I wondered to myself if it was possible to express my concern to her in person. I reasoned that being an educated and cultured young woman, she would admit some shortcomings and rectify her negligence. I set off in search for her, and found her in the arms of her lover, desperately embracing, kissing passionately, and still in full costume backstage. Both were stage players, and apparently fell violently in love during their tour. On closer inspection, I noticed that her lover was not a man, but an actress dressed as the male protagonist. My first impression was that she so desperately sought immediate gratification that she had not bothered to remove her elaborate makeup and costume, feed her Krishna Deity, or even check on Him in the dressing room first. I heard Sri Krishna speak once more, "You see? I told you, she is only concerned for herself; she is selfish! Come get me, quickly, before she comes back!" I finally relented and followed His directions toward the dressing rooms. After winding my way through the halls, I found her dressing room, there behind the unlocked door stood a small Krishna deity-- naked, alone, hungry, and dirty, very, very dirty. I snatched Him and instructed Him to hide in my handmade bag, and keep very quiet. He laughed at me and said, "You're the only one who can hear me, fool!" I woke up shortly after kidnapping Krishna, and escaping through the halls.
After analyzing the dream more carefully, I wonder how often I think of the Lord's well-being. The Lord does not need me to bath, feed, dress, or worship Him. He does not need my fruits, flowers, jewelry, or sweet offerings. He does not need my incense, ghee lamps, water, or ornate fans. He wants my love, devotion, affection, and attention. He cries out for me to look after Him. He mercifully gives me the opportunity to serve Him, without regard to my caste, creed, background, or social status.
He is never concerned with our bodies, but intends to pervade our minds, hearts, and souls. I wonder, regrettably, how negligent I am of Him in my daily worship. I wonder if the devotee actress is rather a representation of me. Having plenty of admirers and sensual pleasures abound, have I forgotten the Lord? Am I neglecting Him? Is he begging me to rescue Him from a lonely existence?

Life Experiences

My schedule is really different this semester. I have a light school schedule throughout the week, but Friday is my lightest day of all. At the beginning of this semester, I was a bit frustrated that I could not schedule more classes, and had an hour gap between two classes. However, now I have found other activities to occupy my time at school, and manage my time there wisely. This way, I do not feel like I am commuting in vain, but accomplishing other things also. Yesterday morning I joined my friend Dolly and her friend Cheko in the gym for a morning workout. He is really helpful and knowledgeable, with a sense of humor. I also plan to practice piano for an hour on my break.
My theory class is pretty relaxed. Our professor gives us ample time to study, work, and inquire on our own time. Additionally, because we have students of different levels in the same class, we pair into small groups and work together. This is nice for me because it helps me recall and solidify my knowledge of music theory by helping my group mates.
We were discussing trustworthiness during class; I mentioned that people feel at ease around me, strangely, and often recount their personal troubles, trauma, or struggles to me. I told her and our group-mate that even complete strangers open up to me, tell me embarrassing, traumatic, and even incriminating stories about themselves, with no hesitation.
That is what finally pushed me toward the therapies, and why I decided to pursue music therapy as a career.
On the ride home, I met a young woman named Anabel on the bus. Anabel introduced herself briefly, and then told me about her troubled past, and hopeful future. Again, I was shocked at how much graphic, personal information she volunteered to me. Additionally, she reflected about her children's future and opportunities. I reassured her that she was a great parent; she was cultivating healthy, trusting relationships with her children, and that it would reap its rewards one day. I gave her my phone number, hoping that Anabel would call one day in search of a trustworthy friend.

Simple Reckonings

Today was my first day of the semester, and it was thoroughly enjoyable. Except for the cold weather, everything was great. I have not attended my self defense and Taekwondo class in about a month. I was planning to immerse myself deeper into my martial arts practice this winter break, but I think The Lord may have other plans for me. I want to take a semester of martial arts on campus, at least, to better discipline myself and regulate my practice. On Sunday I had the opportunity to perform a duet with Bob at church during the Prelude. I am so flattered that he is impressed with me, and I could swear Juanita almost cried during the service when she heard Be Still My Soul. If I can satiate one soul, and thereby please The Lord with my service, it will make my life fruitful.
Piano class is going to be another enjoyable challenge. Yet again, I found the mercy of Sri Guru personified in an excellent professor, Ms. Jones. She is a thoroughly witty, opinionated, and humorous lady; I think I should do well under her tutelage.
I frequently hear students complain about their incompetent professors, but I am starting to believe this is a myth. There are probably very few incompetent professors, if any. I think it is more likely the students are incompetent, and lack a sense of accountability. It is quite common to blame someone else for your own mistakes, shortcomings, and flaws. It is easier to blame someone else for your problems rather than admit fault and take rectifying measures.
Today Citravasini taught me a new recipe for non-yeast rolls; she says the recipe can be adapted with any filling, whether cinnamon, cocoa, poppy seeds, or nuts. I will try to share it here with pictures. They resemble cinnamon rolls, and are prepared much in the same way yet omit yeast leavening. They are soft and tender due to the use of cottage cheese in the dough to condition it. Additionally, I am almost finished with another set of deity outfits, though, they are probably too small for the gurukul deities. I may have to alter the outfit in order to fit Their Lordships' height. I am not sure, however, I hope a good night's sleep will bring some ideas. Tomorrow, I plan to purchase textbooks, practice my instruments, and sew Deity outfits.

Krishna help me, my mind is thoroughly active and restless. Time is my enemy.  Even a thousand arms and heads would not accommodate me. If only I could expand myself to engage fully in each of my services. Lord of  all mystics, achieve this feat for me, please.