We often hear of how the exhibition of mother’s love is synonymous with Krishna’s love for us. The heart of a Bengali mother and the courage of a British soldier is an ideal Prabhupada would expect of his students. Of course, mothers come in a variety of shapes and sizes, and society’s experiences with motherhood may stir up more trauma than nostalgia. Not mine, though, and reflecting upon my relationship with my mother, the quality I most appreciate of her is this idea of unconditional acceptance. Regardless of my rebellion, arrogance, and misapprehension, my mother has never withheld her embrace. It’s easy to be definitive upon whom we label as a “practitioner” or “non-practitioner” of Bhakti. Whatever label I may place upon my parents is irrespective of the qualities I can learn from them. For, as aspiring Vaisnavas, we long to be saragrahi, essence seeking.
Of course, it’s not as though I’ve been amiss of the experience of acceptance and broad-mindedness within our spiritual community. Quite the opposite, in fact. Despite the revelation of my struggles, mentality and motivations to my dearest guides and closest confidants, I’ve only ever felt loved, welcomed and trusted. Yet in the face of being on the receiving end of such kindness, historically I’ve seldom offered others the same. Within a devotional context, I’ve found myself on the sides of extremity when it comes to acceptance. For perhaps the first decade of my spiritual growth, I felt that I held the position of a universal adjudicator. I maintained the supreme belief of my views, standards and ideals over others, casting judgement at the mere mortals below me, and living in an unreal, inhuman, and stoic headspace.
Two years back, however, I felt a massive shift. Krishna will often force us to experience growth and recalibrate our outlook 180-degrees. And the shift I believe our dear Lord wanted me to experience was one from arrogance to acceptance, from prejudice to progression, and from emphasis to empathy.
Regardless of an individual’s actions, struggles, anarthas, today I feel it my role to be a loving friend, of one who seeks not to judge, nor hold a grudge. From this stance, I’d rather not budge. For Bhakti is quite the trudge, and I value honesty over a fudge. For those with whom I sense a strong relationship, I may transgress over to enemy lines and muster up the mettle to suggest an area of growth, though this seldom happens.
Vraja Bihari told me that maturity is to find a balance between courage and consideration. Is my stance of attempting acceptance perhaps still an immature one, and one that’s at the other extreme? Maybe! It could well be. Prabhupada boldly proclaimed that love of Krishna bestows fearlessness. If I were to ever experience a drop of prema, my mindset may change and courage may follow. But we can only live by our present convictions, and this principle of acceptance is one that I feel strongly about presently.
That said, I struggle with acceptance on two fronts: firstly, when an individual’s experiences are unique to them and not one I’ve gone through, I can lack empathy. And when someone presents a mood of arrogance, harshnes or imbibes a culture of offence against Bhakti practitioners, I internally reject them. On the former, I hope this sensitivity comes with maturity. On the latter, I think I’m right! Though there’s perhaps some nuances I need to develop here.
Nobody’s a nobody. Everyone has something worthy of offering to Krishna! And, my God, everyone comes to our community with such unique experiences, habituation, and trauma. Even if they struggle with principles, if they’re immature, even if they’re dishonest, as long as they’re trying then I must accept, I must love, I must encourage! For without being on the receiving end of exactly these things, where would I be today? That’s not a pretty thought… I’d like to end this post with my favourite verbatim of Srila Prabhupada:
Suppose I have got some bad character from the beginning of my life, but I have understood that “Kṛṣṇa consciousness is very nice. I shall take to it.” So I am trying, trying my best. But at the same time, because I am habituated to something, I cannot give it up. Although I know that this my habit is not good, but still, habit is the second nature; I cannot give it up. So Lord Kṛṣṇa recommends that “Still, he is good. There is no question that he is not a sādhu or he is not an honest, he is not religious man. That simple one qualification, that he is Kṛṣṇa conscious, and he is acting sincerely, but failing sometime, but still, he is to be taken as sādhu.” Sādhu means honest, religious, pious. Sādhur eva sa mantavyaḥ [Bg 9.30].
And one may say that “Yes, because he is devotee of God, devotee of Kṛṣṇa, we may call him sādhu, but not cent percent.” But Kṛṣṇa says, “No, cent percent sādhu. In spite of his that bad character, he is cent percent sādhu.”
Srila Prabhupada Lecture, New York, Dec. 21, 1966
Let us remember that for one on this path, despite the flaws in one’s character, Krishna views them as perfect. As tough as it is for me, I must, too, imbibe the same mood. For if one doesn’t feel understood, accepted and loved within Krishna’s family, where else will they find it?
