God Realizations from a Walmart Parking Lot

The weekly bhoga run (temple shopping trip) into town started off as fairly usual as I am accustomed to. The list was, however, especially long, so i knew it would be a long afternoon. I got sick in the beginning of the week so I thought, it being spring and all, perfect time to start a liver cleanse. Basically this entails ghee and your favorite bitter herbal infusion in the morning then nothing but vegetables the rest of the day. Every day, the amount of ghee gradually increases along with the strength of the tea. When fasting, it is always recommended to keep your activity to a minimum. I figured an afternoon of shopping wasn't such a big deal.

Flower distributor warehouse, Indian grocery store, post office, bank, Sam's Club, supermarket, Walmart, dollar store...my agenda. Somewhere between the bank and Sam's Club, the van I was driving started stalling. By the time I parked in front of Walmart, the van was done for the day so I made a call to the temple to have someone pick me up. Luckily someone picked up the phone and arrangements were made. I finished my shopping in the meantime and waited out front for the arrival of my chariot. One hour later, I called back. No answer. Two hours later, another call. No answer. At this point I was getting antsy. I went from chanting to ballet footwork to using the front wall in jump improv to pop n' lock to full out break dancing, a basic 6-step, nothing fancy but definitely foreign to St. Clairsville, West Virgina.

I met some great folks. A nice pair of hipsters. A car full of chillers who let me borrow their phone (the tragedy being my cell phone was dead thus having no access to alternate numbers for a different ride). The store manager came out and offered to look at the van for me and told me I could use the store phone to make as many calls as I needed. The final and most distinguished visitor was the nice police officer who said, "ma'am, we can't have you just boppin' around up here." I respectfully followed his instructions and went to wait in the van. It was around 10:30pm, three hours had gone by since my first call. At 10:45 it was getting cold, so I figured I should buy a cheap sweatshirt and prepare for a night.

It was not my first all-nighter in a Walmart parking lot. Any road tripper knows that Walmart actually welcomes travellers to park in their lots overnight and use their bathrooms, buy supplies, load up, etc. Many a cross-country trip, even a few nights when I was living out of my truck in Ithaca, last summer in a school bus driving back to New Mexico, I guess a handful of nights here and there. Yet, two important provisions set this night apart from the rest. First off, I had a fully charged Ipod with 100s of hours of Prabhupada lectures. Second, my japa beads.

For some reason I wasn't tired. This cleanse has been particularly awesome in that I seem to be getting more energy as the week progresses. Vision is enhanced, sound, mental clarity. Now I'm listening to Prabhupada and going in and out of chanting. My thoughts went full circle throughout the night. Early evening, I was primarily concerned with the potential spoilage of the 30lbs of ricotta cheese, sour cream, and cottage cheese for Monday's lasagna. Later, I was thinking about all my night responsibilities at the temple, primarily Tulasi puja and closing up her greenhouse. Once I realized nobody was coming, I started to get mad. Good ol' mode of ignorance, placing blame, criticizing, questioning other's intentions, ISKCON as an institution, principles, etc. That didn't last so long though, because I began to think that maybe something tragic had happened to my pick-up driver along the way.

The next phase was survival, mode of passion. Buying some basic provisions for the night, getting comfortable. Now it was raining. Fasting all day and chanting throughout that night is recommended for spiritual advancement, especially on Ekadasi or other auspicious days. I figured I was gifted a neat opportunity. One extra hoodie later, I was perfectly content chanting, Sometimes laughing, sometimes crying. Sometimes I felt like a liberated soul, sometimes like a caged bird stuck in a Walmart parking lot in West Virginia. I reviewed my entire 6-month stay at the temple. What got me to this stupid parking lot in the first place? Actually my first service at the temple was running an errand at Walmart. Years of political organizing and campaigning against the encroachment of corporate institutions due to their devastating impact on local economy and ecology, global justice and human welfare, all thrown, literally, in front of my face (more like sideways because the van coasted into the space at an angle).

As the night grew colder and much longer, I took more and more shelter of Krsna. I didn't have much of a choice. Eatin' Park across the street, late-night stroll through Walmart aisle ways of imported, sweatshop-manufactured goods? My life's choices and directions were summed up in a single moment. Due to my offenses, Krishna arranged this immobile situation of separation. Sometimes decisions are easier than others. This one, no sweat. I chose to embrace Tulasi with all my heart and listen carefully to every single one of Prabupad's words. Looking back, I choose to never forget this moment.

The rest of the night I faded in and out of consciousness. Curled up, sitting backwards on the driver's seat, I was awoken by Aindra kirtan at 4am, my alarm set for the temple. I smiled at my humorous situation. I figured it was only a matter of time before someone noticed I was missing. Amazingly enough, my Ipod lasted until 8 or so and my heroes arrived around 9.

Driving back, I sat in the back seat with a full plate of prasad and a bag full of warm clothes. But, I wasn't hungry nor cold, rather quite satisfied and pleased with the night's events. The closer we got to New Vrindaban the more ecstatic I became.

The familiar rain was falling steadily and my mind carried me back to a similar feeling in similar weather several years ago. Alone and in the rain, huddled under a small tarp in the middle of the woods in northeast Vermont, I was on vision quest (a purification ceremony practiced by many Native American traditions). After several weeks of preparation involving a series of meditations and activities intending to train one to actively listen to her internal, intuitive guide, I was directed by my teacher to find a secluded spot, sit, and fast for four days and four nights. As I sat completely vulnerable to the whim of nature, I experienced my first lessons in voluntary surrender, but unto whom or what? I had no understanding of Krsna as Bhagavan, the Absolute Supreme Being, simultaneously one and different with the entire cosmic manifestation. However, I did know that my well-being was ultimately protected and that I was immersed in absolute compassion and mercy, Brahman.

The beauty of Krsna consciousness and the sankirtana movement is that the externals become extraneous and unimportant. The potency of the Holy Name is so powerful, that even in a well lit shopping mall parking lot, one can experience transcendental liberation.

Why didn't I call a taxi? I don't know, it never crossed my mind. I suppose I wanted to be stranded in some way. Just when I started to take the temple for granted, its shelter, my service, the disciplined routine, Krsna arranges a most humorous reminder in the form of mercy to be received from a Walmart parking lot.