Submitted by Kurma Dasa on 21 August 2007 - 10:02pm.
Carousel: The attraction of this short film was immediate. I recognized the honest devotional spirit of the artisan/narrator, and it struck chords with me, perhaps because in it I saw many parallels with my own spiritual life.
The narrator is obviously well-immersed in his Christian life and has learned the art of 'walking the walk' in his daily work, not just 'talking the talk' on a Sunday. This practical spirituality appealed to me. He compared his scraping away the layers of old paint on the chariot horses with his experiences of the cleansing, redemptive powers of God. I enjoyed his analogies. The art of analogy helps clarify something that may otherwise be unclear. My pleasure increased as the film continued. I recognized more feelings intrinsic to my own discipline. Elemental to my Bhakti (devotional) Yoga path is the daily chanting of mantras, or holy prayerful supplications to God. In this heartfelt mood, the layers of forgetfulness of God, like that old paintwork on the carousel horses, are removed.
It is said in Sanskrit 'Cheto darpana marjanam' - remembering the holy names of God cleanses the dust from the heart, and thus reveal the original clean, pure identity within. This is just like the original paintwork of those horses that our artisan speaks of, and how it has been covered by grime for many years. The exquisite workmanship of the artisan is a thing of beauty. Such works can certainly be dedicated to God. They are works in devotion, like the labours of ancient craftsmen who toiled tirelessly to build and decorate cathedrals, temples and mosques.
Especially poignant were the narrator’s honest recollections of those cold mornings when coming to work was less than appealing. It brought me back to my days as a monk, when rising early in the temple was a challenge. Yet when I entered the temple and begun my service, I immediately became fresh and awake. The sound of the narrator’s voice lifts slightly as he describes with almost tangible pleasure the upliftment from sleepiness to wakefulness upon seeing the beauty of the eagle and chariot, his current sacred work-in-progress.
All this talk of horses and chariots rung more bells with me; I recalled what I learned from the primeval scripture Bhagavad-gita; While poised for battle many thousands of years ago, Arjuna, the ancient Bhakti-yogi warrior and chariot driver of Krishna, was taught by God about this art of devotional work: "Therefore, Arjuna, you should always think of Me and at the same time continue your prescribed duty of fighting. With your activities dedicated to Me and your mind and intelligence fixed on Me, you will attain Me without doubt."
Remembering the Lord while working for him in daily life lifts one from the mundane to the spiritual. It is the art of all work. And it seems to be an art our carousel artist has learned well.
The art of all work
Carousel: The attraction of this short film was immediate. I recognized the honest devotional spirit of the artisan/narrator, and it struck chords with me, perhaps because in it I saw many parallels with my own spiritual life.
The narrator is obviously well-immersed in his Christian life and has learned the art of 'walking the walk' in his daily work, not just 'talking the talk' on a Sunday. This practical spirituality appealed to me. He compared his scraping away the layers of old paint on the chariot horses with his experiences of the cleansing, redemptive powers of God. I enjoyed his analogies. The art of analogy helps clarify something that may otherwise be unclear. My pleasure increased as the film continued. I recognized more feelings intrinsic to my own discipline. Elemental to my Bhakti (devotional) Yoga path is the daily chanting of mantras, or holy prayerful supplications to God. In this heartfelt mood, the layers of forgetfulness of God, like that old paintwork on the carousel horses, are removed.
It is said in Sanskrit 'Cheto darpana marjanam' - remembering the holy names of God cleanses the dust from the heart, and thus reveal the original clean, pure identity within. This is just like the original paintwork of those horses that our artisan speaks of, and how it has been covered by grime for many years. The exquisite workmanship of the artisan is a thing of beauty. Such works can certainly be dedicated to God. They are works in devotion, like the labours of ancient craftsmen who toiled tirelessly to build and decorate cathedrals, temples and mosques.
Especially poignant were the narrator’s honest recollections of those cold mornings when coming to work was less than appealing. It brought me back to my days as a monk, when rising early in the temple was a challenge. Yet when I entered the temple and begun my service, I immediately became fresh and awake. The sound of the narrator’s voice lifts slightly as he describes with almost tangible pleasure the upliftment from sleepiness to wakefulness upon seeing the beauty of the eagle and chariot, his current sacred work-in-progress.
All this talk of horses and chariots rung more bells with me; I recalled what I learned from the primeval scripture Bhagavad-gita; While poised for battle many thousands of years ago, Arjuna, the ancient Bhakti-yogi warrior and chariot driver of Krishna, was taught by God about this art of devotional work: "Therefore, Arjuna, you should always think of Me and at the same time continue your prescribed duty of fighting. With your activities dedicated to Me and your mind and intelligence fixed on Me, you will attain Me without doubt."
Remembering the Lord while working for him in daily life lifts one from the mundane to the spiritual. It is the art of all work. And it seems to be an art our carousel artist has learned well.