Monday Morning Greetings 2026 #8 – Bhāgavatam: The Book of Revelations

February 23rd, 2026

For ten years I have been able to come up with a solid realization to write about every week. For the last six weeks it has been a struggle. By Thursday again also nothing. I knew the reasons why. It had something to do with a month of leading retreats throwing me off schedule, but I needed to do something about it immediately. I could just not tolerate offering another reprint Monday. In desperation a thought came.

 

Due to the retreats, I have also have not been steady in my study of the Bhāgavatam. Scripture arms one with jñāna-cakṣus, a vision of the world through the eyes of knowledge. Only one empowered in this way can see the world in a way that enables one to write something meaningful about it. I thought, if I read the Bhāgavatam maybe some realization will come.

 

I immediately picked up the Eighth Canto and started to read. I vowed to become steady in my daily reading again.

 

I began to hear verse after verse listing the Manus, the universal administrators. There was practically no commentary. I needed more philosophical content to be inspired, so after twenty such verses I skipped to Chapter Two, Gajendra Mokṣa. That should be interesting. That’s chock full of philosophical input. It begins, however, with verse after verse intricately describing the beauty of the heavenly Trikūṭa mountain. The verses were simply descriptive, but again not many teachings there. A question came to my mind.

 

The Bhāgavatam, and almost all Vaiṣṇava literature, is composed in verse form. It takes so much effort when the expression of one’s thoughts is confined to meter and rhythm and the other demands of writing in this way. Why did the writer expend that effort for composing the verses I was reading when they contain, little, if any philosophical or devotional content?

 

Voila! I have this week’s topic. Why is traditional Indian philosophy often or mostly expressed through verse?[1]

 

In verse individual Sanskrit words are impregnated with meaning and feeling.

 

The import of verse is especially highlighted by the selected words chosen, often impregnated with deep meaning and feeling in themselves. As you study and naturally become familiar with certain Sanskrit words your understanding of the feeling and philosophy of the text and the school’s teachings becomes significantly enhanced. Those words also give you an easy reference when they have been used elsewhere, further elucidating the meaning of the verse you are studying. In other words, verse is the best vehicle to reveal a school’s teachings by highlighting important words that are filled with special meaning.

 

Verse codifies philosophy and is a tool for learning.

 

A sūtra is a terse statement that codifies philosophy. When you study, or preferably memorize a verse, commentaries help unpack the meaning of each word. You can easily memorize a school’s teachings by just recalling each word of the sūtra and then unpacking its meaning. Verses in the Bhāgavatam are not necessarily sūtras, but the same mechanism is there; learning a key verse often gives one ownership of a whole tattva or philosophical truth.

 

Poetic verse has a special potency to involve the reader.

 

Marshall McLuhan was a prominent Canadian social philosopher focusing on media theory in the late 1960s. He is famous for coining the expression “The medium is the message.” He theorized that the effect of the medium itself is more important than the content it communicates. Mediums that have the maximum stimulating impact make you the most active in learning the messages they convey. There is not a better medium to make the reader actively involved than poetry, because the reader must search for meaning that is often indirect and hidden.

 

Poetic verse is the best medium to convey emotion.

 

The Bhāgavatam is rasa śāstra. That means it is meant to convey an intense emotion to the reader, which in this case is bhakti. In conveying emotion, it is always better to make the reader feel it rather than explaining it. Poetic verse seems the best medium to communicate emotion by encapsulating it in poetic verse in a way to make you feel it.

 

Poetic verse is the best way to reveal the meaning of śāstra.

 

Śrī Jīva describes the way the meaning of śāstra is revealed. “In śāstra the words (vācaka) themselves carry the inherent power to reveal what they signify (vācya).

 

If the words themselves have the power to reveal the meaning of śāstra, then what better way to present those words than with the methods of poetry where specific words are highlighted for their meaning and feeling?

 

I was stuck today in my writing. I took shelter of the Bhāgavatam and some realizations came.

 

The Bhāgavatam indeed is the book of revelations![2]

 

 


[1] We are using the word verse here to indicate verse with poetic skill, not just any simple often clumsy rhyme.

[2] After writing this a thought came up. The translations of the verses of the Bhāgavatam are not in verse form. How much is therefore lost in translation? Perhaps this is why Śrīla Prabhupāda in his translation and commentary insisted that the Sanskrit, transliteration and word for word are also published. In this way, those who cannot read it in the original Sanskrit can still enhance their own study by memorizing select Sanskrit verses and become aware of the powerful meanings of select words. I personally cannot imagine studying in any other way.

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2026 #7 – In Defense of Ignorance

February 16th, 2026

“In defense of ignorance”?

 

Well, here it is:

 

“Those who worship avidyā (the culture of ignorance) come back to this world. However, those who are fully engaged only in vidyā (the culture of knowledge) fall even into a greater darkness.” Śrī Īśopaniṣad 9[1]

 

But how can that be?

 

Words often have multiple meanings depending on their context. Here vidyā refers to spiritual knowledge and avidyā refers to material knowledge. If we understand avidyā as material knowledge, the quandary is resolved.

 

Material knowledge is fundamentally ignorance because it binds one to the world of birth and death. But to engage in vidyā without it is in some ways worse. Śrīla Prabhupāda describes the utility of avidyā in his commentary to verse nine:

 

“The culture of spiritual knowledge necessitates the help of the body and mind; therefore maintenance of the body and mind is required if we are to reach our goal.”

 

In other words, to take to spiritual life without the understanding of how to keep the body and soul together is dangerous.

 

Another good example of such darkness is the premature adoption of sannyāsa. Sannyāsa means a life exclusively dedicated to the cultivation of vidyā. When it is adopted before one has been purified by avidyā, meaning working through one’s desires in varṇāśrama, then disaster looms. Has anything caused more disruption and pain in ISKCON that the repeated fall of those in the sannyāsa order who renounced the world prematurely?

 

It should be clear that when talking about avidyā, Śrī Īśopaniṣad it is talking about Vedic avidyā, material knowledge in support of vidyā, not illicit activities of gross ignorance, as avidyā on its own binds one to this world.

 

It should also be noted that within avidyā are certain skills almost essential to the path of bhakti. For example, the Six Goswamis, especially Śrī Rūpa and Śrī Sanātana, studied and wrote commentaries on poetics. It is an essential skill in understanding and expressing the finer points of vraja bhakti. Again, standing alone, a study of poetics by itself is not transcendental.

 

Two verses later in Śrī Īśopaniṣad the value of avidyā is stated emphatically—we should not renounce those things that have value in bringing us to the platform of spiritual knowledge (vidyā) even if they seem to be material.

 

“Only one who can learn the process of nescience [avidyā] and that of transcendental knowledge [vidyā] side by side can transcend the influence of repeated birth and death and enjoy the full blessings of immortality.” Śrī Īśopaniṣad 11

 

And that’s my defense of Ignorance!

 

 


[1] This is Śrīla Prabhupāda’s translation of the verse:

“Those who engage in the culture of nescient activities shall enter into the darkest region of ignorance. Worse still are those engaged in the culture of so-called knowledge.”

I used in my post the translation of the verse from Hari Parshad’s class during the Saranagati retreat at the Govardhan Retreat Center from February 5th through 9th of this year, titled Bhoga, Tyāga, and Beyond.

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2026 #6 – There is No Victim Consciousness in God Consciousness

February 9th, 2026

There is no Victim Consciousness in God Consciousness[1]

 

“Victim consciousness is a stage of consciousness in which people deny personal responsibility for the things that happen in their lives. People in victim consciousness believe that the world is acting upon or against them, and they are the innocent targets of other peoples’ action or behavior.”[2]

 

Elevated God consciousness is the opposite. Here are four examples:

 

Dharma the Bull

 

King Parīkṣit was informed that a bull had been badly beaten. He immediately rushed to the scene of the crime. Although the bull knew that he was beaten by the personality of Kali, the bull refused to identify him.  He knew that ultimately without the sanction of the Lord, no one could afflict trouble upon him. He then began to explain in detail the various misconceptions about the cause of suffering and how one could use them to abnegate personal responsibility and remain ignorant of the lessons God meant for one to learn.

 

Observing the bull’s reaction, and hearing his exposition full of knowledge and philosophy, the king recognized the bull as Dharma (the personality of religion): “You are speaking according to the principle that the destination intended for the perpetrator of irreligious acts is also intended for one who identifies the perpetrator.” In other words, although it is the duty of one to protect the vulnerable from exploitation, victim consciousness is not encouraged.

 

Vidura

 

The elderly Vidura was unfairly thrown out of the kingdom by Duryodhana, his cruel nephew, whom he had served selflessly his whole life. In addition, he was harshly insulted by him. He refused, however, to play the victim. Rather, he saw that God was delivering to him an important message: it was time to retire from the intrigues of family and political life and leave for pilgrimage. An elevated soul sees destiny as the language of God.

 

Bhīmadeva

 

Although Yudhiṣṭhira led a noble and sinless life, his suffering year after year was unbearable. Even worse, nobody could satisfy his inquiry as to why he had to suffer. In frustration he inquired from his grandfather, Bhīṣmadeva, who was lying on the battlefield waiting to die. Somehow, his grandfather was able to muster up the strength to reply. Destiny, he explained, is just God’s grace offering us the gift of spiritual realization for those who respond to their fate righteously and according to appropriate guidance.

 

Socrates

 

When Socrates was unfairly condemned to die by the Greek assembly for political reasons, his wish to confront his accusers was granted. Rather than feeling persecuted, he informed them, “If you think you will harm me, you will not harm me; you will only harm yourselves.” Socrates was expressing something quite deep. The self or soul is eternal and spiritual. It therefore can only be harmed by one’s own acts of selfishness. In other words, if he was executed, the Greek Senate, who would kill him in a mood of exploitation, would be the one disadvantaged and not himself, who would respond in dignity.

 

It’s unfortunate how far the world has veered from a culture of personal responsibility and self-correction based on God consciousness.  Certainly, all forms of oppression and exploitation should be shunned and appropriately rectified. There are powerful realizations one can glean from the perspective of the downtrodden. One should be wary, however, of adopting the consciousness of victimization and conceding the power to change one’s life to external actors. Contrast this to the teachings of the Bhāgavatam which educates and fully empowers one to change oneself in any circumstance.

 

“We all suffer, but to be a victim is a choice.” — Unknown

 

 


[1] I just completed of a one-month yatra — Mayapur/Puri/Vrindavan/Govardhan. My computer crashed and I couldn’t write. Here is a substantially edited reprint of Monday Morning Greetings November 18, 2019.

[2] Barry and Janae Weinhold — https://web.archive.org/web/20220122105432/https://weinholds.org/victim-consciousness/

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2026 #5 – How Are You? My Answer

February 2nd, 2026

How Are You? My Answer[1]

 

How are you?

 

Everything is going great, but there is one problem.

 

What is that?

 

I’m not the controller.

 

What?

 

If you are not the controller, how can you be the enjoyer?

 

Why not?

 

Because no matter how many things are going your way, if you are not the controller, not everything will go your way.

 

So?

 

When we are in the mood of the enjoyer, then the problem, the thing that doesn’t go our way, becomes prominent, and not the things that are going our way. That one lousy thing, no matter how insignificant it is, ruins everything, at least for most people.

 

How?

 

As it is said, “A pinch of suffering is felt more than a ton of happiness.” Think Bill Gates with a toothache. Not just physical pain, but any small insult, or any frustration of our immediate, or long-term desires, can ruin everything. As this world rarely conforms to our desires, it is always a place of suffering for those immersed in false ego, the desire to control and enjoy, which is, unfortunately, most people.

 

What to do?

 

We have to change our strategy. We need to go from seeking our happiness in destiny, what happens to us, which is beyond our control, to seeking happiness in in our free will—how we react to what happens to us—which is within our control. In other words, we need not to change the world, but to change our selves, and this is within our power.

 

Explain further.

 

We are consciousness, or being, who reaches fulfillment in love or service. Happiness is thus not controlling the world, but serving the world, and that opportunity and consciousness is available no matter what the circumstances.

 

How are you?

 

Everything is fine. I am not the controller, but when you have an inner life, then that does not matter at all.

 

 


[1] I am in the middle of a one-month yatra—Mayapur/Puri/Vrindavan/Govardhan. My computer crashed and I couldn’t write. Here is a reprint from nine years ago on May 29, 2017.

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2026 #4 – How to Feel Bad About Yourself!

January 26th, 2026

I’m a hopeless optimist. A friend once joked: “You’re so optimistic that you could be falling out of the Empire State Building and on the fiftieth floor say, ‘So far so good.’ We laughed, but it is no joke.

 

A dose of pessimism, however, is essential for bhakti. I think I am realizing that increasingly with age. Hopefully my unhinged optimism is cracking. How?

 

The pain of purification

 

Devotion gradually cleans the heart and helps you see yourself, warts and all. When the mind is cluttered with desires it is often hard to notice our faults, like not noticing something out of place in a cluttered room. Finally, a glimpse of reality: How many lifetimes have I been parading as Pauṇḍraka?[1] Can I bear the pain of purification?

 

The pain of understanding God

 

How painful it is to conform one’s way of living to a truth higher than one’s whims and attachments. The Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam informs me page after page, “You are not up to the mark. Change!” Can I bear the pain of transformation?

 

The pain of realization

 

I not only understand a truth; I see a truth — a realization. That realization is so clear that I kick myself. “It’s so simple. How in the world did I miss that?” I am pained to have lived in ignorance. As more realizations inevitably come can I bear the pain of self-realization?

 

The pain of regret

 

Bhakti begins with regretting our previous life of selfishness separate from God and then surrendering to God. That first stage of spiritual commitment is called tapa, or remorse. Tapa also means heat. Such remorse is heat because it challenges or burns our false sense of superiority. “No, I am not wrong! It is not my fault! It wasn’t a mistake!” Am I strong enough to resist such rationalization and enter the path of devotion? Admit it; regret it. Let that acknowledgment burn your charade. Can I bear the heat of remorse?

 

The pain of opening the heart

 

The essence of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam is to chant the name of our beloved Lord without attachment or inhibition. Such simple-hearted sincerity is painful because the proud fear such vulnerability. Chanting means to open that heart fully and beg for the mercy of the holy name. Why the resistance? Can I bear the pain of opening my heart in devotion?

 

The joy of pain

 

The world is humbling, which is painful, but it doesn’t have to be ordinary suffering. If we can turn it into the soul’s aching for connection to God, it can be the birth of devotion and a source of the greatest joy.

 

And that’s how to feel bad about yourself on the path of Bhakti!

 

 


[1] A foolish king described in the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam who paraded around in the dress of Krishna and declared himself God but was later killed by Krishna.

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2026 #3 – Can Destiny Be Changed?

January 19th, 2026

Can Destiny Be Changed?

 

First, a story from the Jain tradition that sheds some initial light on our inquiry.

 

Five friends walk into a forest of mango trees to eat. In a very crass tone the first friend advises, “Cut down the tree!” “Why cut down the tree?” the next friend counters, “Just break off one branch.” “Why saw off the whole branch?” the third one protests, “Just break off the part where the mangos are.” The fourth suggests something more sensitive: “Why not just pick the mangos?” The fifth friend is even more considerate: “Why do we have to pick the mangos at all? Why not just take the ripe ones that have fallen on the ground?”[1]

 

The reactions of the different friends who desire the mangos from the tree represent different degrees of selfishness, with each requiring a commensurate level of atonement to nullify the offense.

 

For example, the person who wants to cut the whole tree is the most selfish and requires the strongest reaction to learn the lesson. No atonement would suffice, and only the full brunt of a karmic reaction could rectify the offense.

 

The person who just takes the ripe mangos that have fallen on the ground, but does not offer them to God, represents the least selfish alternative. To counteract the offense, simple sincere regret for the offense may be sufficient atonement.

 

The Jain text below commenting on our story sums up the science of atonement (nullifying egocentric acts):

 

If one unwittingly makes an imperceptible and minor mistake in dealing with someone, simply regretting one’s mistake may be sufficient to mitigate the reaction. For a more serious mistake an apology may do. An even more severe offense may require atonement. For the most egregious offenses, however, only by suffering a commensurate reaction to the offense can one be purified of that transgression. In such a case one’s destiny is certainly set in stone.

 

As one advances spiritually, however, one’s approach to altering destiny is not limited to atonement, especially as most of the karmic reactions we receive are connected to past acts that we are no longer even aware of. In other words, rather than merely putting one’s effort into preventing the ill fruits of one’s action, one counters one’s fate by the appropriate response to it.

 

After all, the real fruit of karma is the happiness and distress we feel, meted out by destiny. That certainly can be altered by understanding what is happening to us and appropriately responding to it. Socrates’ reaction to being condemned to death is a perfect example of this.

 

Socrates was sentenced to death by the Senate of Athens for the trumped-up charge of contaminating the youth with his teachings. He accepted his fate peacefully and made the simple request of being allowed to address his accusers.

 

His powerful words, recorded by Plato in “The Apology,” are worth pondering: “If you think you will harm me, you cannot harm me. You only will harm yourself.”

 

Socrates understood that we are eternal and that the real harm to us is acting against the interest of our soul. His thoughtful response therefore elevated his consciousness, while his accusers were karmically digging their own graves.

 

Was not Socrates’ fate changed by his enlightened perspective? Imagine the fate of a person in a similar situation but without his realization of the eternality of the soul. Would not that person’s fate be quite different? Therefore the best way to change our fate is by responding to our destiny with dharma or righteousness.

 

The Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam is filled with many such examples in which a deeper perspective on life alters the distress meted out by the mace of destiny, such as King Parīkṣit’s response to being cursed to die, or Vidura’s reaction to being banned from his kingdom by his evil nephew.

 

For this article I will just share Bhīṣmadeva’s advice to his grandson Yudhiṣṭhira, who inquired from him about how to digest his terrible fate in life. He suggested a way to gives us the realizations that ultimately elevates our consciousness and brings us true happiness:

 

There is no cause for despondency in life, no matter how trying circumstances get, if one, through understanding destiny as God’s beneficent and absolute will, does three things. One should bow one’s head in gratitude, respond in righteousness, and do so under one’s qualified mentors, thus extracting the fruit of destiny, a personal realization elevating one to a better life.[2]

 

To sum up: We can best counter destiny, which is ultimately our distress and happiness, by appropriately responding to destiny rather than changing it. In this way, by extracting the fruit of destiny, which is the realization meant to elevate our consciousness, we remain free from despondency. And in that sense we can change the essence of our destiny, which ultimately is our happiness and distress.

 

Although I am approaching my preferred word count, I think it will be very helpful in negotiating this challenging concept to add two analogies. They demonstrate that while the broad parameters of our destiny are mostly fixed, within those parameters our destiny can still be changed by how we view and experience it.

 

Example 1

Destiny is like being on a rocky road to a particular destination that we have no choice but to follow. In that sense destiny is fixed. One can, however, pave that road to make the journey smooth. In other words, within the parameters of our fate we can certainly mitigate our karmic reactions, and in that way change our fate.

 

Example 2

Destiny is like being dealt a bad hand in poker. Your cards are fixed. Still, if you play your cards properly you can minimize your losses or even win. This is a nice analogy to show both the fixed nature of destiny and the ability to change it by how we play our hand.

 

Can destiny be changed? In the most important way, yes! I will leave you with Rumi:

 

“When providence seems to be digging a hole to throw us in, it is actually planning to quench our thirst by drawing water from the ground.”

 

 


[1] This story is from a Jain treatise on karma that a friend shared with me many years ago when I was preparing a seminar on karma.

[2] This is my summary of Bhīṣmadeva’s instructions from Bhāgavatam 1.9.12-15.

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2026 #2 – Marilyn Monroe Died!

January 12th, 2026

Marilyn Monroe Died![1]

 

Note: This morning, I realized the Monday Morning Greetings post I was working on, titled “Rasa Theory Made Simple,” was not simple at all. I would never be able to explain such an esoteric subject within the two-page limit I generally set for my posts. And furthermore, I doubted I could accomplish such a task in the time I had. I thought I might search my archives for an article I could reprint, but first I thought just to click on the news for a minute and see what was happening in the world. I then stopped myself. I’m on an internet fast, at least from the news. So I began searching for a suitable reprint from at least six years ago and lo and behold, what is the first thing I hit upon? It was “Marilyn Monroe Died!”—a topic about “no news”. I thought it was a perfect article to reprint as it’s so commensurate with some of my realizations this week. That is generally how I come up with a subject to write about in the first place.

 

So, here is a substantially rewritten reprint of “Marilyn Monroe Died!”.

 

Marilyn Monroe Died!

 

My friend visited a renowned saint in Vrindavan. I am not sure why — it seemed a bit inappropriate — but he asked him, “What was the last thing you heard in the news?” I guess he had heard that when this saint arrived in Vrindavan in 1962 he vowed to never again hear anything of this world. The kind bābā searched his memory for a second. His matter of fact answer took my friend aback: “Marilyn Monroe died!” Soon after, my friend related this conversation to me. I was impressed.

 

Last week I got a similar message. It reminded me of the vow of that saint.

 

I was texting back and forth with a friend who had just finished some research work in Vrindavan and decided to stay a few weeks more. At the end of our conversation, I casually asked him a more personal question: “How is your bhajan?” His texts surprised me:

 

“Chanting 64 rounds

And reading Bhāgavatam for hours a day

It’s so amazing how Vṛndāvana is so different in summer

Nothing going on

You are the only one I shared actually

I never knew it’s possible

I also left social media. I use none whatsoever.”

 

The last line, “none whatsoever,” struck me. Although I am not personally on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram, I do read about the world. But how much could my meditation improve if the input of the world, with its distractions, likes, hates, and dualities, was completely shut off?

 

I began to think of those friends that seem to go much deeper than others in their chanting of the holy name. They all seem to have, to one degree or another, one thing in common. In terms of social media, they are all in the school of “Marilyn Monroe died,” so to speak.

 

I thought, yes, media, “none whatsoever.” What is the use of having the mind stimulated with so many thoughts that are of no use to the soul? Why not go even deeper into the holy name? Time is short.

 

I recalled a talk that I had listened to recently that seemed relevant to what I was thinking:

 

Simon Sinek described how the constant use of social media has the same chemical effect on the brain as any form of addiction, from gambling to alcohol.[2] They all produce an inordinate amount of dopamine, the chemical in the brain that activates the nucleus accumbens, the brain’s pleasure or reward center. [3]In time, as the nucleus accumbens is over-stimulated by dopamine, it naturally adapts, requiring one to take more and more of the addictive substance to obtain the same dopamine “high.” Compulsion takes over, and one is addicted. And here’s the real point that struck me: “If you arise in the morning and the first thing you do is check your computer you are addicted!”

 

Okay, I am using “media” to research and write this. Certainly, it has many good uses. Compassionate souls may research the world to comment on it with spiritual insight. Even Śrīla Prabhupada occasionally wrote or spoke on “that rascal Nixon” or “a prayer day in the U.S. Senate” and other worldly events to illustrate his point.

 

But here’s the question. How much external news does one need in Krishna’s service? The cultured sādhu retired in Vṛndāvana didn’t need any. And how much do you require for the service of Krishna?

 

If attentive chanting is our problem, or if we want to go much deeper into the holy name, perhaps this is the cause — too much absorption in what Śrīla Prabhupada called “the world of names.”

 

“The great kings, leaders and soldiers fight with one another to perpetuate their names in history. They are forgotten in due course of time, and they make a place for another era of history. But the devotee realizes how much history and historical places are useless products of flickering time.” (Bhāgavatam 2.2.3, purport)

 


[1] This is a rewritten reprint from July 8, 2019.

[2] Simon Sinek on Millennials in the Workplace — https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hER0Qp6QJNU

[3] This explanation of the effects of dopamine mentioned in Simon Sinek’s talk comes from article on addiction from Harvard Heath Publishing a division of Harvard Medical School. https://www.health.harvard.edu/newsletter_article/how-addiction-hijacks-the-brain

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2026 #1 – The Art of the Essay and Happy Tenth Birthday, Monday Morning Greetings!

January 5th, 2026

That’s over five hundred original essays! In my first essay of every year, I celebrate the birth of my blog by writing about writing.

 

One thing that I am proud of, and I hope that doesn’t sound egotistic, is that I have honed my craft. I write about that every year. This year, specifically I want to share some writing about writing by some prominent American authors that encouraged me to feel that my craft is going in the right direction.

 

Robert AtwanThe four qualities of a good essay

 

The essay is a particular genre of writing. Years ago, to hone my essay writing, I started to read anthologies of notable essays from the beginning of the genre, which is credited to Montaigne. Every year, I would get the anthology of American Best Essays founded by Robert Atwan, the series editor since its inception forty years ago.

 

I was especially interested in his foreword each year. In these, he extensively discusses in different ways the genre of essays.  In one piece he outlined “four qualities we can find in all essays that have lasted beyond their moment of composition: 1) they explore original ideas about specific topics; 2) they include the vivid presence of the writer who readers can discern and track; 3) they incorporate moments of both self-awareness and skepticism primarily through reflection; and 4) they resist what Atwan calls “standardization” in content or form.

 

I thought, “this is what I try to do!” I hope my audience can sees this too in my writing.

 

I also related to this reference:

 

“[E]very work, be it fiction or serious treatise, is embalmed in some fantastic wrappage, some mad narrative accounting for its appearance, and connecting it with the author, who generally becomes a person in the drama itself, before all is over.”

 

—Thomas Carlyle, on Jean Paul Richter (1827).

 

Ernest Hemingway – Seven Tips for Good Writing[1]

 

Ernest Hemingway was a Nobel Prize-winning American novelist, short story writer and journalist. Recently, I came across several of his tips for writing. I felt gratified that without ever being taught those principles, I had already incorporated some of them in my own writing. These were the points I especially related to:

 

2: Stop writing for the day while you still know what’s coming next.

 

“Always stop when you’re going well and know what will happen next. That way, you’ll avoid getting stuck.”

 

4: Begin each writing session by reading what you’ve written so far.

 

“When it gets too long to read it all, go back a couple of chapters each day. Then each week, read from the beginning. This practice helps one reconnect with his story’s flow and keep continuity.”

 

5: Don’t describe emotions—create them.

 

“Newspaper writing tells what happened, often creating emotion through timeliness. Real writing, however, conveys the emotion as truthfully as possible. Instead of explaining feelings, let readers feel through the action and dialogue.”

 

7: Be brief.

 

“The Gettysburg Address was brief by design. The rules of prose are as unchanging as those of physics. Use valued concise, powerful prose that make every word count.”

 

Roy Peter Clark –“Murder your darlings”

 

Roy Clark is an American writer, editor, and writing coach. One of his most famous works on writing advice is called “Murder Your Darlings.”[2]

 

He wrote:

 

“Ask yourself, ‘Am I including this because it provides the reader with a memorable and delightful piece of evidence to prove the point of my text? Or is it beside the point even though it reveals what a good wordsmith I am?’ In other words, the phrase, sentence, or paragraph that’s the most precious to you, but doesn’t really add anything to your thesis, must go.”

 

I think this is one the most important things I Iearned about writing. It took me some time before I got it, but I am ruthless now in removing anything, no matter how seemingly profound or charming, that doesn’t serve the flow and focus of my writing. “Murder Your Darlings” is an essential writing tip.

 

Stephen King – “The adverb is not your friend”

 

The Adverb is Not Your Friend[3] is an essay by the famous novelist Stephen King that was shared with me by one of my writing mentors. I followed his advice of eliminating unnecessary adverbs, which means most. It made me a better writer.

 

It is beyond the scope of my post here to elaborate, but I recommend you read that essay The Adverb is Not Your Friend, if you want to be a better writer

 

All the posts for the past year can be found on www.wavesofdevotion.com. If you have the time and inclination I would appreciate if you could send me your favorite Monday Morning Greetings. Feedback helps me to focus on what to write.

 

All the best for a prosperous and spiritually uplifting New Year from Monday Morning Greetings!

 

 


[1] These tips aren’t from a single formal essay by Hemingway but are compiled from his letters, interviews, and essays, particularly those later collected in the book Ernest Hemingway on Writing (edited by Larry W. Phillips).

[2] https://barbaraleeharper.com/2023/04/25/murder-your-darlings/

[3] https://mecheng.iisc.ac.in/cnuiisc/DSRC/be.iisc.ac/13_StephenKing_adverb_is_not_your_friend.pdf

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2025 #53 – The Philosopher’s Corner: Quandary I

December 29th, 2025

Quandary I:

 

If God is perfect and complete, how can we possibly increase His pleasure? And if we can’t, is there any purpose to our devotion?

 

Response:

 

God wouldn’t be God if He wasn’t perfect and complete. But He also wouldn’t be God if His pleasure couldn’t increase. Thus, our devotion can increase God’s pleasure.

 

Explanation:

 

We find these types of quandaries puzzling only because of a basic philosophical fallacy. We tend to confine the possibilities of what God can do to reasoning based on our experience of universal natural laws. God, by definition, however, is not subject to natural laws. He’s governed only by His will.

 

Space and time, for example, do not rule God. All His activities and experiences are therefore not temporal. Thus, both His ontological nature and the expansion of His pleasure are perfect and complete and can co-exist at the same time. This phenomenon is described in the Śrī Īśopaniṣad:

 

“The Personality of Godhead is perfect and complete, and because He is completely perfect, all emanations from Him, such as this phenomenal world, are perfectly equipped as complete wholes. Whatever is produced of the Complete Whole is also complete in itself. Because He is the Complete Whole, even though so many complete units emanate from Him, He remains the complete balance.” Śrī Īśopaniṣad, Invocation

 

Further confirmation comes from śāstra:

 

“‘The highest degree’ indicates greatness that has reached its ultimate peak. But in fact, that endless happiness has no limit.” Bṛhad-bhāgavatāmṛta 2.2.192

 

Commentary:

 

“The glories of devotional service are difficult to describe without straining the capacity of words. The phrase parā kāṣṭhā (‘highest degree’) implies that no higher degree exists. But the happiness of pure devotional service never reaches a final peak. It keeps on increasing forever. Calling it the parā kāṣṭhā of happiness is only a poetic attempt to do it justice with words available in human language.”

 

Śrīla Prabhupāda illustrates this principle:

 

Śrīla Prabhupāda was asked if God can do anything, can he create a rock that he can’t lift. His answer, “Yes, and then he would lift it!” In other words, not being confined by time, both events can co-exist eternally.

 

In other words, it is reasonable that in the realm of God, contradictory events can exist simultaneously by His inconceivable potency.

 

Śrīla Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura affirms this principle:

 

Śrīla Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura wrote about this in an essay, “The Potency that Removes All Contradictions.”

 

“Sri Krishna, the embodiment of eternality, absolute knowledge, and unlimited bliss, possesses an inconceivable potency called virodha-bhanjika-śakti (removing all contradictions). By the influence of this potency, all contradictory principles and natures are unified and eternally present.”[1]

 

Final Challenge:

 

If God is above reason and anything is possible by His acintya śakti (inconceivable potency), then what mechanism does one have to dispute any claim about God or use reason to affirm his existence?

 

When we say that God has inconceivable potency that transcends the natural laws that are the basis of reasoning, it doesn’t mean that reasoning or logical inference (anumāna) is not an important method of knowing, even knowing many aspects of God’s existence. It means that when it comes to knowing God’s special nature and the realm of His internal potency, we cannot limit our understanding of God by logical reasoning alone. We must rely on scripture aided by the guidance of guru and the realizations born of prayer and meditation.

 

Simply put, the fact that God is above reason, doesn’t mean he is below reason.

 

Resolution to Quandary I:

 

Our humble devotion, if done without motive, can increase the happiness of God.

 

How wonderful is Krishna!

 


[1] I have written about this and have provided Śrīla Bhaktivinoda’s full essay https://wavesofdevotion.com/2025/07/07/the-potency-that-removes-all-contradictions/

 

Monday Morning Greetings 2025 #52 – Is Wearing Vaiṣṇava Dress Important?

December 22nd, 2025

Is Wearing Vaiṣṇava Dress Important?[1]

 

When Śrīla Prabhupāda came to the West he wore the typical dress of an Indian sādhu. The male followers he recruited basically wore the same. He also wore a kurtā, a stitched upper garment, which was introduced to India from outside. But the general simple cloth dress devotees wore, featuring a lower garment for men which was unstitched and wrapped and saris for women, was very much like the dress Krishna and the residents of Vrindavan wore. At least that is how Krishna’s dress was depicted in Vaiṣṇava painting and iconography for thousands of years. And this artwork was often done or supervised by realized Vaiṣṇavas with internal realization of what Krishna looked like based on the Bhāgavatam.

 

“Wearing a peacock-feather ornament upon His head, blue karṇikāra flowers on His ears, a yellow garment as brilliant as gold, and the Vaijayantī garland, Lord Kṛṣṇa exhibited His transcendental form as the greatest of dancers as He entered the forest of Vṛndāvana, beautifying it with the marks of His footprints. He filled the holes of His flute with the nectar of His lips, and the cowherd boys sang His glories.” Bhāgavatam 10.21.5

 

During Śrīla Prabhupāda’s time the devotees almost always wore Indian dress. Of course, at the time ISKCON was more or less monastic. Even married people who joined ISKCON lived in the ashram, were maintained by the temple, and served either as fulltime missionaries or did essential services supporting that mission. Wearing robes served a purpose. After all, ISKCON’s audience for their outreach were mostly disaffected youth who were attracted to India and alternative lifestyles. The requirement to dress just like devotees did not act as an impediment. Rather, it popularized the movement. The tactic was successful. Many people joined.

 

After Śrīla Prabhupāda left, the movement changed. Hardly any devotees now live in the ashrams, and ISKCON members are mostly middle-aged or older. The audience for outreach is no longer disaffected youth, but people in the world. Is offering a chance to become “Indian” still a good way to help present what Śrīla Prabhupāda came to give?

 

Let me relate and comment on a personal story that I think will bring this discussion further along.

 

Over twenty years ago, my personal secretary, who was the chief secretary of a major advertising agency on Madison Avenue, invited me to her company on “Dress Down Friday.” Once a month the company allowed its employees to dress casually. I was invited to come in the afternoon.

 

When I came, there was a large computer printout on the wall that read “WELCOME HARE KRISHNA.” I went from office to office where the people were eager to meet me until I reached the end of the long corridor which opened into a larger reception area. Many of the people I visited followed me. There the production manager came out of her office to greet me. When I gave her a lush Radha Govinda rose garland from the temple she practically melted onto the floor. She then asked me respectfully, “Why do you dress that way?”

 

I explained that my dress was like a uniform, in that is not essential for my duties, but has a utility. I gave the example of policemen. Although their uniforms help people identity them as officers of the law and engenders a martial mood, they could also do the same job as plainclothesmen. Similarly, wearing robes helps others recognize a devotee of Krishna and engenders a mood of devotion, although one could certainly practice devotion in ordinary dress without any spiritual impediment. I explained further that for devotees living in the world, at least in the West, it seems more practical to wear the clothes of their local culture, and that mostly my dress was useful for monastics, priests, and personal worship.

 

So based on my experience here is what is what I concluded:

 

The most important principle in dress is dressing respectfully, especially when approaching God. There are certainly times when wearing “devotional clothes” has utility in causing devotees of Krishna to be recognized and in engendering a devotional mood. Realized preachers understand where, for whom, and in what circumstances the dress that Śrīla Prabhupāda brought from India has relevance and when it is a distraction. Like anything else in Krishna consciousness, effective application of any principle depends on the intelligence and realization of the person applying it.

 

Of course, being identified as a monk, if one truly is one, usually brings respect, even in the West. Vaiṣṇava dress is certainly a respectful and clean way to approach God.

 

For me, I am a monk and mostly live in India. Vaiṣṇava dress suits me in every way, wherever I go and whatever I am doing.

 

For you: Chant and be happy!

 


[1] Just before I was to send this to my editor, I found out that I published a similar article two and a half years ago. I decided to still publish this one as it deals with the subject from a different angle.