The âjungleâ is returning,
time to âweedwackâ to trim
and drive the lawn tractor
before it rains again.
I begin trimming under
gray skies and then it pours.
Putting on a Pancho to keep dry
I weed by hand, listening.
The roar of the rain in
the trees, the swish of wind,
raindrops on my covered head
I think the Hare Krishna mantra.
Pondering in my plastic Pancho
I think about my life as
a devotee, as I look at the beautiful
verdant forest, intensely green grass
and colorful flowers, with yellows and reds.
Is my yard work devotional service
just because I think Iâm a devotee?
I have offered the weeding to Krishna,
thinking it is his home and yard.
Certainly in theory I believe,
and I follow the guidelines,
but what do I really feel,
since our heart is where we live.
I act dutifully, often in prayer,
yet if I really knew it was Krishnaâs
home, I would keep it much cleaner
and the yard better maintained!
Trying to be more self reliant and
consume less energy, my son
is installing solar water collectors, and an
âon demandâ water heater, which is good.
Yet, I think how we live in the US,
with central air conditioning
and all our convenience machines
would make a Himalayan yogi laugh.
Yet Bhakti is very generous
and we dovetail our conditioning,
desires and occupation, under a guruâs shelter,
making our focus Krishnaâs service.
Standard of living is relative,
âsimple livingâ an internal evaluation,
it varies with person and country–
who has too much, or just enough?
A devotee born rich creates a home
that feels âjustâ comfortable,
while a humble born devotee
think he has way to much.
My home could be a
palace in some countries,
yet here itâs âmiddle classâ,
and I see it as normal with guest facilities.
In whatever way we can
be peaceful and inspired to serve;
we can adopt what we need
for our goal to love and serve Krishna.
We have to evaluate if
how we live is favorable for service,
and we are neither over endeavoring
or in anxiety about our next meal.
Speaking of which,
it is now time for lunch prasad,
my austere meal of pesto pizza
with artichoke hearts, and saladâ
I guess I am a yogi after all.