The birds sound their calls as they swoop and dive from branch to branch, sometimes a field apart from one another. Nature sighs, her cool breath passing over me as large cumulus clouds effortlessly sail by, like giant white elephants. They remind me of the early volumes of Srila Prabhupada Lilamrta, where it was described how Srila Prabhupada, while in India, would refer to his Western disciples as white elephants.
Srila Prabhupada's disciples would dance in bliss on the dusty streets, surprising the local Indians who had never before seen such a sight. Rekindling spiritual interest throughout a land who, though the birthplace of God, now found itself largely inhabited by a people whose affectionate glances had turned away from the deep well of spirituality in which their bodies had appeared in this lifetime. Instead ghost-like eyes, void of devotion's spark, cast themselves towards their present object of affection-the cheap and superficial glimmer of materialism reflected back at them from the Western world.
Jolted from their maya-induced stupor some would come to view firsthand the miracles bhakti was capable of producing. For in their midst a fellow denizen brought back with him American "hippes" he had transformed into "happies". Anyone who makes just a cursory study of Srila Prabhupada's example soon comes to see how Krsna lovingly reciprocates with the desires of his pure devotees.
It's as if my heart opens just a little bit more when I am reminded of Srila Prabhupada. His dedication in serving Sri Guru and Sri Krsna brought Krsna consciousness around the world and directly into my own heart. It was his translation of the Gita that dramatically shifted my worldview from that of an impersonalist to one who aspires to become Krishna conscious. I had never anticipated such a transformation to occur when first reading the Gita As It Is. Or even when I began to chant. I thought chanting would help me learn to be more mindful. Little did I know that it would entirely redirect my spiritual course forever.
I shift myself on the rock beneath me that serves as a seat overlooking a small pond. Its edges are ornamented by white lilies and its waters reflect a sky of blue displaying those white elephants again. They call themselves to be noticed. So seemingly graceful and buoyant they are. I begin to find myself sinking into thoughtful reverie, considering views from both the trenches and vistas of my journey so far.
While a lot has changed since I first began reading about Krsna consciousness and eventually practicing it, a few things have remained fairly constant. Regular reading of the sastras (even if just a verse or two) and chanting, my connection to serving at my local temple and my seeking to develop as much association as I can.
One thing that has changed is that I've learned to refine my sense of association. I've come to value like-minded association greatly and make cultivating such association a priority. By doing so I began to become more attune to my own spiritual compass. A compass that began to point towards the necessity of having a clear understanding of guru-tattva.
In Swami Tripurari's new book Sacred Preface, he writes:
"Diksa without siksa may be likened to a seed without water or sunshine, and siksa without diksa to water and sunshine without a seed." (p. 6)
There was a time, not too long ago, where my mind and heart feasted upon the nutritious spiritual diet of siksa relationships and yet my soul was void of the transforming nectar that diksa offers. The very seed needed to fully utilize and augment what siksa offers and yield tangible spiritual fruit.
Words from a recent lecture by Swami Tripurari that resonated with my own experience play themselves back in my consciousness.
"You have some feelings about your life and then you hear from a sadhu and she speaks in such a way that it confirms the things that you were thinking about, feeling about, but you couldn't quite articulate. She said it, or he said it, better than I could say it and so that person knows my heart. They're not different from me. He or she is a manifestation of my heart developed, my heart's prospect coming out.
This is the idea of guru. That kind of feeling. Not some external oppression. You know it is said in the Upanishads, "One must accept a guru." It sounds like a law, "Oh God I better find a guru or I'll be breaking a law." But the spirit of it is more, "I must take shelter here because I'd be crazy not to." My interests, my own heart is going to be forming and it's being voiced in a way that I haven't been able to voice it but it's not unfamiliar entirely. It's not a new thing, an artificial imposition. It's like going home. An all knowing person is required for home going. As I said before...home is in the heart. This is a very extraordinary thing that's coming before me." (From the lecture: Braindead Bhakti)
Years ago I would have thought the idea of surrendering to any sort of spiritual teacher as intellectual suicide. How one's mind has a way of changing when a more informed spirituality beings to develop! One based not only on reason but also transrational thinking guided by a realized source. It's a humbling thing to admit to yourself that you have no chance of realizing the answers on your own but, as humbling as that is, it is even more liberating a feeling when you find a source that you know can help you find the answers and realizations you seek. A source that speaks to your heart. A source that you know can guide you Home.
"The disciple's realization of all that guru-tattva constitutes is in no way better facilitated than by association of such devotees, in whose company one finds one's guru." (Swami Tripurari, Sacred Preface, p. 24)
I think once again on the subject of association. How I not only feel so incredibly fortunate to be receiving guidance and inspiration from Sri Guru but how I have come to enter into association with devotees whose hearts are warmed by light from the same fire. Yes, like-minded and association and guru-tattva are probably the two most important areas in which I've developed a fuller understanding since I began pursuing bhakti. And I find them to be indispensable.
As my heart proceeds it becomes more inspired to dance with the spontaneous joy of devotion. It begins to feel incredibly light. Much like the white elephant clouds that drift before me. And like Srila Prabhupada's white elephants from the West that blissfully danced through the holy streets of India, singing out the Holy Names and seeking to serve their beloved Guru, I pray someday to feel such surrender and come to fully serve mine.
