ISKCON Loses 26 2nd Avenue

From my good friend and fellow community member Yadunath Das

Did you just experience the same sinking feeling in your heart upon reading this headline that I did upon writing it?

A few months back, I wrote you all asking for monthly financial support to help keep Prabhupada’s 1st western temple up, running and under ISKCON care. My reasoning was that this temple is of global concern and surely the worldwide ISKCON community has a stake in whether or not its bills can be paid.

I may have been wrong.

Since posting my plea (titled “Seeking Matchless Gifts”), only one devotee has stepped forward to make a monthly donation (I thank you again, prabhu). I know when I read a worthy solicitation like this I often think that many others will come save the day, so the small donation that I would be able to give will probably be rendered moot. Please know that that is not the case. And as for the above headline, it is not true.

Yet.

It’s a distinct possibility, though. Once again, I reach out to you—Prabhupada’s disciples, grand-disciples and followers—to save this historic place for the legions of future followers who will marvel at being able to actually visit the exact spot where Prabhupada started his movement; the “small storefront” that they read about in the Prabhupada-Lilamrita; the place where it all began.

A lot of people are talking about HH Mukunda Maharaja’s new book, Miracle on 2nd Avenue. Well, another miracle is needed now, 45 years later—one that preserves a big part of ISKCON’s heritage, and you can be a part of it. Our total expenses are under $2,000 a month. Won’t you please consider becoming a regular monthly sponsor to save 26 2nd Avenue?

Please contact me at yadunath@bhakticenter.org or go to krishnanyc.com/giving.html to create a secure subscription via PayPal. All donations are tax deductible.

Yours in the service of ISKCON,
Yadunath das
Treasurer, 26 2nd Avenue

A Revolution In Consciousness?

By Chris Fici for ISKCON News on 12 Oct 2011

Image: dipatch.com

Occupy Wall Street demonstrators carry a “false idol” to New York's Zuccotti Square

I was recently having lunch with a few of the ministers and pastors from our Interfaith community here in New York`s the East Village, and I was struck by how our conversation turned, like the force of a magnet, towards the practical matters of feeding and caring for the increasing number of homeless and destitute who were appearing in the Village.

I felt a certain disquietude as I listened. I didn't feel comfortable joining in their interest, and as I explored that discomfort, I returned to the disconnection still lingering in my heart between a bridge unmade.

My own compulsion to understand truth had previously lead from me the realm of social justice and activism to the realm of the spirit, and since that transition, I have been struggling to reconcile within my heart the bridge between these two worlds. 

As I began exploring my feelings surrounding that lunch, another layer of truth hit me like a ton of bricks. The headlines I read turned towards a unique gathering in downtown Manhattan, which we all know now as the "Occupy Wall Street" protests.

In the past few weeks, I have been doing a dance in my mind and heart over how I feel towards this unlikely and unprecedented turn of events. I have gone from being quite eager to go down there and join them in their strange and colorful carnival, and I have also felt an equally strong desire to keep my distance.

Other monks in our ashram are feeling the same way, teetering between feelings of solidarity and skepticism, encouragement and discouragement. Yet it's something we can't ignore, not only because it's right down the street, but because it is speaking to a voice we know we all share.

Stop what you are doing for a moment and go to this website which is philosophically and practically linked to the protests on Wall Street:http://wearethe99percent.tumblr.com/

What do you feel when you read some of these people's accounts? I feel the pain of my own parents' financial troubles. I feel the pain of so many people from the wasted city of Detroit, where I grew up and honed my roots. I feel the pain of people just like me, just like you, who have found that precepts of "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness", as guaranteed in the Declaration of Independence, are a cruel joke laid upon them.

I look at many of the young people saddled with college and credit-card debt and I also feel gratitude for my current shelter as a monk, which has allowed me to keep a certain space from being plunged into that kind of angst, an angst which is visceral and existential all at once. I can literally say that "there but for the grace of God go I."

Most of all I feel that there are people who are done with being stuck with the survival of the fittest. Those camped out at Zuccotti Park near Wall Street are but the spearhead of what appears the emergence of a new zeitgeist, of a potential movement moving across lines of race (though not necessarily class), which is done with what Naomi Klein calls "The Shock Doctrine", or disaster capitalism.

The 99% are people who are sick of being manipulated and exploited by the 1% who, by all appearances on the surface and underneath, are rigging the system and benefiting beyond any sense of means and decency by a dependence on the inherent shocks and chaos programmed into the system itself.

In her book The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism, Klein writes of the 1% and one of their "spiritual" preceptors Milton Friedman:

"This desire for godlike powers of total creation is precisely why free-market idealogues are so drawn to crises and disasters. Non-apocalyptic reality is simply not hospitable to their ambitions. For thirty-five years, what has animated Friedman's counterrevolution is an attraction to a kind of freedom and possibility available only in times of cataclysmic change-when people, with their stubborn habits and insistent demands, are blasted out of the way-moments when democracy seems a practical impossibility."

This is clearly a movement which is making the attempt to push back, to assert an essential need for decency, integrity, justice, and humanity. They are articulating a voice for so many of the voiceless. The desire of their heart is so sincere, and this is what is attracting so many of us to consider and even directly support their activism.

Yet, despite all these obvious truths, I still struggle to join my body, mind, and heart with their own. This is largely because I am a head-space person, and I am becoming more conscious of the "limits of my empathy", as articulated quite nicely in a recent NY Times op-ed by David Brooks, but the bridge between these considerations and actual action is also still unmade, and is the great conflict of my inner spiritual life at the moment.

There are practical considerations in any case. As monks, our distance from the world insures the space and freedom to cultivate the deeper spiritual reality which underlies and actualizes all potential solutions to the problems of this world. This distance allows a proper perspective and vision.

I can't help but relate to the similar struggle the great Catholic writer Thomas Merton also felt in trying to understand the bridge between his concerns for social justice and spiritual truth. He was careful to avoid the kind of zeal that warps sincerity, and which turns this sincerity into the violence of pride. From his 1962 essay The Seasons of Celebration he defines the zealot as an individual:

"who 'loses himself' in his cause in such a way that he can no longer 'find himself' at all. Yet paradoxically this 'loss' of himself is not the salutary self-forgetfulness commanded by Christ. It is rather an immersion in hos own wilfulness conceived as the will of an abstract, non-personal force; the force of a project or program. He is, in other words, alienated by the violence of his own enthusiasm: and by that very violence he tends to produce the same kind of alienation in others."

There is, of course, a fear in getting involved, of getting too drawn in when we are already in our ashram stretched to the max is so many ways. There is also a fear and hesitation based on simply not being familiar, on the ground, with the protestors, with who they are, what they are feeling, what they are experiencing. The only to this cure is a careful engagement on our part, to a sharing of our presence which also keeps us free from the winds of the chaotic and unformed aspects of this movement.

What the Occupy Wall Street movement needs, and what it is yearning for, is something more than a band-aid solution. They must solve the questions of leadership, policy, momentum, and a deeper integrity which will resonate with the mainstream. They must solve the question of how they are going to become truly transcendent.

Where do we come in to help them do this? Humbly of course, at first, not pretending to be the soothsayers who will guide them to victory, but as their servants trying to make them aware that they are on the cusp of a potential revolution in consciousness. We want them to understand truly what it means to come in like a needle, and out like a plow.

It is my own personal conviction that, as devotees and caretakers of Srila Prabhupada's mission, that we cannot live in a vacuum. We must offer, in some way, our presence, our association, our wisdom, our lifestyle, our love, friendship, and support. I ask for your blessings and your own prayers that we can perhaps all do this with courage and without naivety.

Bhakta Chris Fici is a monk in the Bhaktivedanta Ashram at The Bhakti Center, New York City

Related Stories:

• Digg
• Reddit
• Facebook
• Google

Read more:http://news.iskcon.com/node/3943#ixzz1ayIQf7zF

Lifestyle of a Monk in New York City (Part 2)

Click here to head over to Tattva Magazine for Part 2 of my piece "Lifestyle of a Monk in New York City"

Radha, The Feminine Nature of God

From my good friend and fellow monk Gadadhara Pandit Dasa at the Huffington Post

Millions will gather today, in India and around the world, to offer prayers, worship, and devotional songs glorifying the appearance of the Divine mother, Radha (Radharani). Radha descended from the spiritual realm shortly after Krishna, approximately 5,000 years ago. She took birth in the small village known as Barsana, which is about 28 miles from Mathura, the birth place of Krishna.

The word Radha comes from the Sanskrit verbal rootradh, which means to worship, and the word rani, which means queen. Radharani can be literally translated to mean "the queen of worship." In some texts, she is described as "the supreme goddess who is worshipable by everyone. She is the protector of all, and she is the mother of the entire universe."

The answer to the question that has been on everyone's mind for millennia is, YES and NO. The question is: Is God a Man? God is not just male, and according to some Vedic scriptures, God has both masculine and feminine expansions. In the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna provides a sneak preview into these feminine traits.

"Among women I am fame, fortune, fine speech, memory, intelligence, steadfastness and patience."

However, in some of the more esoteric texts such as the Puranas and the Chaitanya-Caritamrita, it explains that the complete manifestation of God includes his feminine counterpart, Radha. They are inconceivably one and different, as Krishna expanded himself into two for the purpose of exchanging love. There's a beautiful description in the Chaitanya-Caritamrita which gives us a window into the connection between Radha and Krishna.

"Radha is the full power, and Lord Kṛṣṇa is the possessor of full power. The two are not different, as evidenced by the revealed scriptures. They are indeed the same, just as musk and its scent are inseparable, or as fire and its heat are non-different. Thus Rādhā and Kṛiṣhṇa are one, yet they have taken two forms to enjoy the mellows of pastimes."

This concept is not an easy one to grasp. If God is full and complete, why does he need to expand himself to exchange love? The next question we can ask is why does God need to do anything? God has a personality which indicates that he has preferences. Perhaps this need to expand for the purpose of exchanging love speaks of the importance love plays in the lives of all individuals.

Our desire to love and be loved comes from God. For the most part, no one wants to be alone, at least not permanently. The thing everyone is chasing after is love. We all want to know that there are people out there that love us. Simultaneously, we hanker to be able to give our love to others.

There is another passage in the Caitanya-Caritamrita that describes Radha's qualities and love for Krishna.

"Radharani's body, mind, and words are steeped in love for Krishna ... The body of Radharani is a veritable transformation of love of Godhead. Even Krishna can't understand the strength of Radha's love which overwhelms Him. Her transcendental body is complete with unparalleled spiritual qualities. Even Lord Kṛiṣhṇa Himself cannot reach the limit of the transcendental qualities of Radharani."

These are some of Radha's prominent qualities:

1. Radha is adolescent and always freshly youthful. 
2. Radharani is very sweet and most charming to look at.
3. Radha's face is smiling and ever blissful.
4. Radharani is the most exceptional singer and veena player.
5. Radha's words are charming and pleasing.
6. Radha is exceptionally humble.
7. Radha is the embodiment of mercy and compassion.
8. Radha possesses Mahabhava, the highest sentiment of love.
9. Radha always keeps Krishna under Her control. Krishna submissively obeys Radha's command

These topics of divine and spiritual love between Radha and Krishna will always remain a mystery as long as we remain on the material platform. Love on the spiritual platform is devoid of selfishness. The needs and interests on the other take precedence over one's own needs. The kind of love that comes closest to spiritual love is the love exhibited by a mother towards her child. It's full of sacrifice and is completely selfless; it is without expectation.

The feeling of love is derived from the service itself. The child is limited in its capacity to reciprocate the mother's love. Even if it increases its demands, the mother keeps on giving. Most of us can only imagine a relationship where the reciprocation of love and service is completely selfless and without expectation. It's the kind of love our hearts hanker for.

The path of bhakti or devotional service prepares one's heart and consciousness -- by eradicating selfishness and incorporating selflessness -- to understand and experience that divine love which exists between Radha and Krishna.

This is a wonderful day to meditate and reflect on the beautiful selfless qualities of Radharani and pray that we can to some degree follow in her footsteps.

 

Follow Gadadhara Pandit Dasa on Twitter: www.twitter.com/nycpandit

 

The Bhagavad Gita And The Value of Vulnerability

The latest article from my good friend, fellow monk, and Bhakti Center (Manhattan) president and CEO Ramnath Subramanian (Rasanath Dasa) on the Huffington Post

"Always state a strength as a weakness if you are asked about your weakness!" stated Shannon Iorio as she guided me through my mock interviews. "No one wants to hear about your weaknesses!" Shannon was my career mentor at Cornell University's business school, and she had just procured three investment banking job offers for me.

Incidentally, during my very first banking interview, my interviewer handed me a sheet of paper, which stated,

"Investment Banking is a business where thieves and pimps run freely on the corridors and the few good men die the death of a dog!"

In big, bold letters at the bottom it said, "THERE IS ALSO A NEGATIVE SIDE!" With a stern look, my interviewer asked me my first interview question, "Which one of the three are you?"

The message was written on the wall. I was walking into an environment where failure, weakness and honesty were treated as disease. The gravity of the challenge only became evident in the very first week of my new profession after I landed one of the offers Shannon had set up for me. The intensity of success-orientation, the sense of image consciousness, and the drive to be the best filled every nook and corner at work.

In that environment where every junior associate's performance is closely monitored and quickly labeled, I had my first major stumble. I was the only one in my class of 74 associates to fail my first major financial services examination -- the Series 7.

As I walked out of 100 Williams Street that evening, it was a sinking feeling. I waited until all my classmates had walked out -- not wanting to be with any of them. A deep sense of personal failure and the fear of being labeled as incompetent clouded my mind. I was extremely worried about losing the positive regard of my colleagues right at the start of new career.

I was thinking to myself, "I will just say I passed! No one will know anyways!" Determined to save my face at all cost and rationalizing it very well, I made the decision to "cook the books".

That evening, I spent time alone looking inside myself in a way that I never did before. There was an extreme uneasiness to sit and watch my feelings. For the first time, I encountered the fact that in my headlong rush to achieve, I had become a master at repression and a compulsive achievement machine.

I had so long invested in an image that I carefully preserved to convince others and myself about my capabilities. Behind an armor of achievements, I experienced the pain of my own vulnerability.

I realized that I lived in a culture that discouraged vulnerability. Vulnerability is usually associated with weakness -- something that I could be rejected or exploited for. In this culture, I have grossly and subtly ingested the notion that I should not have any weakness -- so much so that when I came in touch with my natural human limitations, it was painfully embarrassing. My idealized self-image was fractured. I realized that in the pursuit to keep the image alive I had invested in an image to gain positive acceptance from others.

As I entered the office the next morning, an excited bunch of associates and analysts were talking about the exam just next to my cubicle. One of the analysts, Matt Fiorello, asked, "How did it go, Ram?" I gathered all my courage and said that I failed. There was silence and I felt the pain run through every pore of my body.

Nobody knew what to say. A few consolations floated and the crowd dispersed. As I sat on my seat, I experienced a state of true grounding -- as if I had let go of a huge load. There was acceptance of my own vulnerability and a simple, lighthearted joy in that acceptance -- a relief that I did not have to live with an image.

Later that evening, Matt stopped by my desk. "I cannot believe you spoke the truth so easily", he said. "No excuses. I feel very inspired. Thank you for being so trustworthy". I was pleasantly surprised and grateful.

That evening, I experienced a deep sense of freedom. I realized how I had unconsciously become a prisoner of my own image. I realized that true personal development needs an honest and compassionate acknowledgment of our human limitations and a proper space to socialize them. We need to accept ourselves before others can accept us as we are. That acknowledgment can prove to be an invaluable guardian against the self-deception mechanisms of the ego.

Otherwise, we become desensitized to our authentic self and begin to package ourselves simply to attract favorable attention. "How do I come across?" becomes the name of the game. Even amongst "friends", it becomes difficult to take off the mask due to the fear of rejection.

The slick, smooth surface conceals the emotional neediness to be accepted as we are. In such a stifling environment, true personal development does not happen. We remain slaves of an image without grounding in who we truly are.

This very lesson is conveyed at the onset of the Bhagavad Gita, India's classic on yoga and spiritual wisdom, where prince Arjuna provides a remarkable example of vulnerability. Arjuna was a veteran of many battles and had never lost a single combat. His acts of prowess, courage and intelligence were world-famous. Yet, Arjuna faced a situation where he had to fight his own kinsmen.

His courage was tested and he broke down in front of his dear friend Krishna, expressing his distraught situation. In a matter of moments, Arjuna turned from a mighty warrior into a weakling, right in front of his opponents. In that exhibition of weakness, Arjuna exhibited great courage. It is that honest expression of weakness that set the stage for timeless wisdom to be spoken. Consequently, he received the strength and inspiration to confront his inner doubts and overcome them.

The same can happen in our lives if we take the courage to be vulnerable; when we learn to walk through the door of fear that has kept us prisoners to our idealized self-image. We can wake up to our authentic potential and experience the sense of freedom. It can also help us better understand and be compassionate to another's needs.