Here goes a hello from Rose Ridge, Olive Hill, Kentucky. I really am at a loss for words. There’s so much to say, but the words don’t fit. Maybe if I share a bit of myself, perhaps someone might be able to understand just where I’m going with this. I am Wazhazhe Lakota/Dakota. Krishna Consciousness is not totally new to me, moreso, Self Realization Fellowship, which was introduced by a college professor several years ago. Through a series of events, and being at the right place at the right time, I find myself being reintroduced.
Here goes a hello from Rose Ridge, Olive Hill, Kentucky. I really am at a loss for words. There’s so much to say, but the words don’t fit. Maybe if I share a bit of myself, perhaps someone might be able to understand just where I’m going with this. I am Wazhazhe Lakota/Dakota. Krishna Consciousness is not totally new to me, moreso, Self Realization Fellowship, which was introduced by a college professor several years ago. Through a series of events, and being at the right place at the right time, I find myself being reintroduced. There were visits to the temple in the city where I was visiting. I feel it was a time when a seed finally breaks through the soil and begins to reach for the sun. I am a simple person and see things in a simple way. And so, there comes the questioning. Is this right? Is this where I belong? Is this something I am supposed to learn and apply within my own life, within the teachings of my ancestors? I returned to the temple and asked, “Is this where you want me?” I stood there, feeling the chill of the floor on the bottoms of my feet. A small voice from somewhere told me to sit. But there weren’t any chairs or benches. Sitting directly on the floor was an impossible task. My body was ravaged with arthritis after recovering from sepsis. And again there was this feeling and desire that I should sit and pray. I looked around to see where there might be a place to pull myself from off of the floor. I saw none. Finally I gave in and managed to get myself to the floor. YES, I did belong there. I needed to be there. For the first time in ten+ years, there was no pain. And when I was ready to leave, I made it up off of the floor as easy as could be. How does someone who has so little physically show appreciation? And the answer came, “Pray.” Praying was not something foreign to me. But there needed to be something else. There came the thought of the mahamantra, speaking it soon became a chant and then became a song. I’m not a singer, but this beautiful song finds its way from my lips. And as well for the first time in a long time, I feel happy. This beautiful song finds its way over my lips in the morning after praying with the canunpa wakan. And then again in the evening while the sun is setting. It’s beautiful and it’s unfolding right in front of me. Haribol