I’m officially bloggging at Patheos now. Mistress of the Hearth isn’t moving, and I’m not at the Pagan channel there. I actually have a new blog at the Hindu Channel called Gathering Nectar. I chose not to move any of the old posts over there (though I may rewrite some of them). I’ve always felt confused about what I was doing with Mistress of the Hearth. Now I have a clearer vision of how I’ll write about Hinduism to my heart’s content at Patheos and keep a personal blog here. Please stop by Patheos and say hi; there are always crickets on a brand new blog!
At Wiccan rituals, people are asked to remove watches, set aside cellphones, and step between the worlds. At Hindu rituals, not so much.
If you’re used to delineating sacred space before you start ritual, you may be surprised to see how pujas take place right in the midst of life, with children playing, people coming in and out, and an iPod blaring a Sanskrit chant.
I can see the wisdom in both methods. There is a profound peace when you cast a circle and know that you won’t be disturbed for the next hour. There is also practicality to inviting deity into your life as it actually is. Some people feel they don’t have time for ritual when their kids are little, but children are not a hindrance to doing puja, even if they climb on your lap one minute and run out of the room the next.
When I go to Krishna Janmashtami, I don’t usually spend much time listening to the talks. There are so many other things going on. This year I sat a long time — at least a few hours — listening to the speakers. I listened until I was distracted by my body telling me it couldn’t sit on a metal folding chair any longer and demanded I walk around a bit.
Last week I went on a news fast for a few days because I’d been struggling with some depression and the state of the world right now is not helping. Sometimes the news has actionable stories, and I end up signing petitions or whatever. But when it’s an onslaught of things you can’t do anything about, like whether the Yazidis survive, it just adds to the feelings of hopelessness.
As I listened to the talks, I was surprised by how much the news crept in. Maybe I found it jarring because I’d been news fasting beforehand.
One story was about how Krishna killed the evil king Kamsa and installed a good king, but neighboring kings who had been friends with Kamsa were angry and started causing problems. They were like ISIS, we were told (he didn’t pronounce the name of the terrorist group like the Greek name of the Egyptian goddess, he said, “eye ess eye ess”).
Later in that story, another king worshiped the Sun (Surya), who bestowed on him a gem that has the power that no one in the kingdom will suffer pestilence. The speaker talked a little about Ebola and how many people have died and what it would be like to have a stone that kept Ebola from your land.
In a later talk, someone asked, “What does it mean to surrender to Krishna?” That speaker, a large black man, thought for a minute and said that it’s not like what we think of as surrender. “It’s not like if I surrender to the police so they won’t shoot me. That’s a bad kind of surrender.”
My 16 yr old son said later that he’d appreciated how the talks incorporated current events that made it easier to understand and relate to the stories. I get that. But I also felt profoundly sad. Lately I’ve been feeling a sadness like a cloud around me. I can’t see it but it permeates the air I breathe. I grew up in a town with a steel mill and there were occasional pollution warnings. It might look fine outside, but we were told it was better to stay inside as much as possible for a day or two. This depression that I’ve been struggling with feels like it’s in the air like that. It might look like a bright sunny day, but I’m inhaling invisible despair.
Most people at Janmashtami had cellphones and a few people were using laptops. We take a camera that is not a phone, but this year we took a cellphone and we did check messages at one point. Earlier in the day my mom had told me that my dad was having shortness of breath and she thought it was because the doctor changed the dosage of his blood pressure meds. I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss a call, like I did on Yule 2010, when I logged onto Facebook late in the day and there was a message from my aunt telling me that my mom had tried to call me earlier and that my dad had a heart attack. (This time, my dad not only felt better, but they took a trip to Amish country yesterday).
There has never been a time that I wished the celebrations at the Krishna House were conducted like a Wiccan ritual. My younger son isn’t interested in sitting through six hours of spiritual stuff, and I like knowing that he’s running around with other kids and checking in once in awhile. Contrary to casting a circle, the atmosphere not only allows children to be kids, but also allows adults to stop by without committing to a six-hour stay. It’s more like the Christmas Eve parties my aunt held when I was little, at which my parents arrived at six and stayed until after midnight, but dozens of friends and family members and neighbors would pop in for a few minutes on their way to church or to another party.
Still, I feel the need for deep ritual work that doesn’t involve iPod music or people coming and going, or swirling mists of this terrorist organization, that deadly outbreak, police militarization, and my dad’s dwindling health. I want to step out of this worrisome time and into timelessness. I want to create sacred space and leave the phone and clock and WiFi connection outside of it. I want to step out of the cloud of depression and into the realm of possibility.
I want to protect the part of me that still believes in magic.
“The circle is cast, and we are between the worlds.” Blessed be.
Suppose you want to attend the Krishna Janmashtami celebration in your city, but you’re nervous. You’ve never been, and you don’t know what to expect. Never fear — I’ll walk you step-by-step through what you can expect. Details vary, but this a basic structure that I’ve observed. These are pictures my husband and I have taken over several years (when asking permission to take photos, we’ve always been enthusiastically encouraged to do so).
Someone will show you where to put your shoes. I hope you’ve gotten a pedicure if you’re embarrassed by that sort of thing. You’ll be barefoot for the next several hours.
Perhaps someone at the door will ask if you want tilak. Tilak is a symbolic language of forehead decoration. You’re probably familiar with the “red dot” of kum kum a lot of women and goddess worshipers wear. This vertical line of sandalwood is for devotees of Vishnu.
Where I attend, there is kirtan going on continuously in the temple room (for six or more hours!) and other activities outdoors.
We’re going to be inside a lot later, so we start by heading to the backyard.
There will be decorations and possibly a stage for performances.
If there is an important speaker, they may have a special chair set up.
This woman has spoken a few times at our local Krishna House, sometimes outdoors and other times indoors.
There may be hours of performances: song, dance, scripture recitals, stories about Krishna. They will be performed by anyone from local kids to traveling professionals.
One year, a man struck up a conversation with me in the hallway as I waited to use the restroom. He told me he’d just arrived from India and that his kids would be performing that evening. What he failed to mention was that he was the director of a school for the blind and that “his kids” were students at his school, who measure the stage before they start by walking its length and width and then put on an entire performance without being able to see one another.
When they perform Kolkali, a traditional dance that involves rhythmically striking the other dancers’ sticks, this feat becomes especially impressive.
At some point in the evening, Abhishek will be announced.
Abhishek is a ritual in which panchamrita (5 nectars) is offered by pouring a mixture of milk, yogurt, ghee, honey, and rosewater over the murti. Someone will be ringing a bell the entire time, and there will be a conch shell blown like a horn and someone waving fan that keeps flies away from the deity.
You will be expected to use your right hand only. Don’t worry about messing up because there will be priests there to guide you. Here is my younger son doing Abhishek when he was 10.
At some point the outdoor performances and stories will start to wind down and people will move into the temple room. A curtain will be drawn, hiding the deity murtis (because God is getting a costume change!), and everyone will sit on the floor chanting for hours.
Early on, people might start dancing, but as midnight approaches, it will be way too crowded.
At midnight, the curtain is drawn back, and everyone starts screaming when Krishna is revealed. It’s a bit like a rock concert.
You will have a chance to participate in the ritual of aarti.
In aarti, a sacred flame is waved before the deities and then you can put your hands near the flame and wave the blessings toward your face (some people touch their hands to their eyes, while others wave their hands up their forehead to the top of the head).
The people in the front will have a chance to pray, and as they finish, they’ll be ushered out so the people behind them can move forward and pray.
After you pray, you will go back outside and wait in line for food.
Some people have been fasting all day and they will be ushered to the front of the food line, but don’t worry — there is always more than enough for everyone! There has been food available throughout the evening (as my teenagers can well attest) so only the people who’ve been fasting are in a hurry. This food is prasad, which means it has been offered to Krishna first and now you’re receiving his blessings by sharing his food.
As you leave (around one or even two in the morning!), you will already be looking forward to coming back next year.
Jai Shree Krishna! Janmashtami Ki Jai! Happy Krishna Janmashtami!
Don’t believe those internet memes that float around claiming that Krishna and Jesus have oh-so-much in common. These bits of misinformation will claim that Krishna was born of a virgin named Mary on December 25 or some nonsense. Not true at all. The only part of the story that’s similar is the king who wants to kill the new baby.
Krishna was born to Devaki and Vasudeva, who were imprisoned by Devaki’s brother Kamsa, a power-hungry king who’d heard a prophecy that his sister’s son would overthrow him. Each time Devaki gave birth, Kamsa killed the child. Until her 8th son was born 8 days after the full moon (ashtami means the 8th day and Krishna Paksha means during the waning moon, or dark half of the month) in the month of Shravana. This falls in late August or early September.
Meanwhile, in a small cowherding town, a woman named Yashoda gave birth to a baby girl, who was the Devi Durga in disguise. By the power of Durga (who is also called Vishnu Maya, or Vishnu’s own power of illusion), Vasudeva was able to sneak out of prison and carry baby Krishna across the Yamuna River, to be fostered with Yashoda. He then carried the baby girl back to the prison before the guards awoke. When Kamsa tried to kill the baby, he was shocked that it turned into Durga herself and warned him that the baby he wanted to kill was not only born but out of his reach and that the prophecy was in motion.
In 2014, Krishna Janmashtami will be celebrated tomorrow night: August 17, at midnight. Most temples start their celebrations hours beforehand, usually around 6 PM or even earlier. If you live anywhere near an ISKCON (“Hare Krishna”) temple, you can show up for chanting and free food. In 2009, I read on someone’s blog that you can just show up like that, and that’s how our own family tradition of attending each year began. To double check, I had my husband call the temple and, sure enough, everyone is welcome and there will be free food. We’ve attended each year since.
Jai Shri Krishna!
I came across the most bizarre argument for monotheism.
Let me back up. When I read Every Witch Way, it inspired me to download Tess Whitehurst’s ebook Magical Clutter Clearing Boot Camp. I’m a bit of a decluttering fiend and I used to move every few years, so I don’t have a huge quantity of stuff, but since we actually settled down and lived in one spot for the past several years, my closets have started to accumulate quite a bit.
I started getting excited about tackling a huge declutter and doing a space clearing ritual. So I called up my mom, who has a collection of feng shui books, and asked if I could borrow Karen Kingston’s books Clear Your Clutter with Feng Shui and Creating Sacred Space with Feng Shui. Kingston spends a lot of time in Bali, and her books are as influenced by Balinese Hinduism as they are by actual feng shui. I’m fine with the eclecticism and I’m more interested in the cluttering clearing and home blessing rituals than in applying the principles of feng shui anyway.
While I awaited the arrival of my borrowed books, I logged onto my library’s ebook website and saw that they have a book called The Everything Feng Shui Decluttering Book, which I figure will tide me over. I’ve already gotten a head start on decluttering my living room and the closet in my bedroom and I want to stay motivated to see the project through, so I download the book onto my Kindle.
The first thing I notice, in the note to the reader at the very beginning of the book, is that the author is neither a feng shui consultant, nor an enthusiast whose life was improved by feng shui. She’s a writer who was commissioned to write a book and who didn’t know what feng shui actually entailed when she embarked on the project. A lot of the book reads like you would expect it to — like the author skimmed a big pile of books about clutter and feng shui and blandly regurgitated them. She even has chapter titles like “Taming the Paper Monster” than sound just like the titles of other books (Taming the Paper Tiger).
I read on.
Right away the author starts exoticizing the Chinese and their presumed lack of all clutter and the pristine homes they apparently live in. She says that, “Americans are notorious for packing more in one large suitcase than an entire Chinese family typically owns!” and goes on to explain that the mystical Chinese:
…have a very limited need for things. They tend to have only the most necessary, basic items on hand: a bed, a couch, a kitchen table, some dishes, and silverware. Seldom will you see more than one of anything in their homes.
If you’ve ever been in a Chinese friend’s home, you’re already laughing. Not one of the Chinese families I know is minimalist. They aren’t hoarders, but they aren’t spartan, either. Books about feng shui need to lose the “Americans are like this” and “the Chinese are like that” generalizations.
In the chapter on living rooms, the author writes that “clutter can be found lurking in several other hiding spots,” such as on bookshelves, where she says:
…books are the primary culprit here.
Seriously? I love to clear actual clutter, but are books on bookshelves clutter? Books end up in piles all over the place in my home. On beds, nightstands, the couch, the kitchen counter, the dining room table. We read a lot. But when books are shelved? Not clutter.
The advice for the dining room is even stranger. She warns that people can tell things about you by the types of things you display, and that:
…if [your belongings] say more about you to others than you might feel comfortable with, store them in the attic or, better yet, give them away.
Wait, what? If your belongings are too personal, you should…not put them in a more private room like a bedroom…but give them away? Don’t you hate when your home reflects your personality?
Which brings us to the advice on spirituality. The author laments that:
An increasing cultural interest in spirituality has led many people to create mini altars in areas such as their dining rooms.
Oh, how annoying! Not mini altars! She wants you to “respect your guests,” who apparently shouldn’t have to see that crap.
This brings me to her advice on monotheism versus polytheism.
You’ll be amazed at how focused your prayer sessions can be when you limit the number of deities represented in your altar!
Yep. Polytheism is clutter. She’ll allow you:
…a statue of the Virgin Mary, an angel or perhaps the goddess of mercy, Quan Yin…
but don’t go overboard with your “spiritual reminders.”
This is literally the first time I’ve seen a decluttering book tell me to limit the deities on my altar. Polytheism is too cluttery. Monotheism is so much more focused. When all other arguments against polytheism fail, tell people it’s bad feng shui to have all those deities. Monotheism lets that chi really flow.
Luckily my mom arrived with Karen Kingston’s books and I can delete this ebook from my reader. Let’s just say I need to declutter it.
The United Nations observes August 9 as the International Day of the World’s Indigenous People. The photo above is from Hindu Human Rights and depicts two members of the Kalash, a tribe indigenous to Pakistan, who are being threatened with death by the Taliban. They number only 3500 and are being told to convert to Islam or die. Sadly, they are only one of many groups around the world whose existence is being threatened by extremists.
Never take for granted our Freedom of Religion. Our ancestors didn’t have it, people around the world still don’t have it, and there are people here at home who would gladly take it from us.