Head Space

As it stands, my entire technology inventory consists of a bog standard Nokia, Dell Inspiron laptop and 2GB I-river MP3 player. I’m determined to limit it to that, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult. The world moves at breakneck speed, and we scarper behind trying to catch up. Two houses, two cars, two television sets, two phones… it all seems too much! Luxuries have become necessities, without which, we just can’t function. Modern-day spiritualists, it seems, are faced with a unique challenge: the art of living is not how big we can make it, rather how small we can keep it! Some say we should just embrace technology and engage it in our spirituality. Rather than fighting the digital current, they say, why not just redirect it in a positive way? After all, isn’t it practical to move with the times?

Sounds good, but exercise caution, lest we may lose the plot. It’s great to connect with people hundreds of miles away, as long as we don’t forget to say hello to our neighbors. It’s nice to know what’s happening in every corner of the world, but let’s not forget to make a positive impact in our immediate circle of friends, family and community. It’s a treat to have entertainment and amusement online, so long as we don’t sleep through the exciting opportunities awaiting us in the physical world. It’s empowering to have access to so much knowledge, provided we don’t just memorise stacks of information with little sign of actual transformation.

Technology often increases quantity, but can potentially end up eroding quality. In ancient times, for example, sacred scriptures were few and far between, hand-copied, and in the possession of only the most fortunate. One saint’s manuscript of Srimad-Bhagavatam, the crest jewel of India’s spiritual wisdom, was blotted, smudged, and rendered practically unreadable due to the tears of love which were shed during his reading. Today, such priceless books are readily available at our fingertips; read them anywhere and anytime on our IPhones, IPads, Kindles and Laptops. Our shelves are lined with the hard copies – big books, small books, deluxe collector’s item and all-in-one version – a veritable library of wisdom! But how much quality time have we devoted to reading them? And when we do, are we in the right headspace to draw the unlimited inspiration which is available? With improved access let’s simultaneously intensify our deep contemplation and absorption in the subject matter. After all, a few short sentences, properly digested, can change our entire life.

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Martial Mystics

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles – now that was a craze when I was a kid. More than the dynamic turtles, however, the character of Splinter always intrigued me. Although an elderly rat dressed in robes, he was the quintessential calm, all-knowing master of martial arts, his name derived from his proficiency in smashing wooden boards. For the most part he was quiet and unassuming, though he would occasionally spring into action, lending some devastating blows to save his students from impending doom. The young and spritely turtles had a dynamic repertoire of fancy moves, but when the old master came in there was something extra special – though frail and aged, his one hit could destroy everything!

The aged and wise are special – irreplaceable constituents of any family or society, what to speak of a spiritual movement. While many may have knowledge, the seasoned spiritualists bring something special to the table. Their practical wisdom from a life of experience and their inner purity from a life of selfless sacrifice, make their words penetrating and heart-touching. They may not move with the energy of a youngster, but their spiritual potency is as powerful as ever. Such personalities can move the world in a different way.

Swami Prabhupada is the living proof. At the age of 69, homeless, penniless and alone, he relocated to the Lower East Side in search of 'better opportunities' to preach his message. This was Skid row; the lowest of the low. Here he lived, worshiped, studied and taught. In the early evening, his new residence, the rat-ridden 94 Bowery, would fill up with buzzing acidheads, bearded bohemians, ruined alcoholics and disillusioned dropouts. Sex, music, LSD, and meditation is what made them tick. The Swami would nonchalantly step into the ‘temple’ and take his seat at the front, face-to-face with these confused souls who were looking for real love, real happiness and real spiritual experience. The Swami’s expression would exude bottomless depth, not phased in the slightest. In short, straight, basic philosophical discourses, he communicated eternal truths with unparalleled impact. When he sang in unsophisticated tunes with a bongo drum, their heads would spin, and their hearts conquered. His tremendous devotion was irresistible, empowering his simple message to penetrate the core of their hearts. As a martial mystic, he effortlessly smashed the illusion, unrelentingly speaking out in defiance of all materialistic ideology. Absolutely incredible. We follow that teacher in awe, hoping to one day become worthy students.

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