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Updated: Jun 6, 2023

Sunday, June 4th, 2023

Moncton, New Brunswick

A two-hour flight brought me to Halifax, at which time, Ambarish drove to Moncton where a gracious host, G–deep, took us in for a sangha program. There is an incredible influx of immigrants coming into Canada from India, and it certainly shows by the attendance. In fact, one couple arrived from India just yesterday.

The room for our sit down by couch or caught on floor, was full of bhakti yoga enthusiasts who were all new friends for me now. We chanted. I spoke. I painted a picture of how it can work. From monthly gatherings, we make it to weekly. We introduce Sunday school. We rent a place. In six years, we purchase a building. In 10 years, we have a restaurant (Govinda’s), and a temple in Moncton.

There was no opposition to the proposal. Perhaps, in their minds, it is doable. In any event, there is lots of potential here.


When it came to chow time, or Moncton’s version of a Hare Krishna love feast, we indulged in my favourite dish, local fiddle heads. They are most likely one of the few veggies that is not genetically modified. It comes from the wild.

Ambarish and I were set up in a downtown hotel, but let loose our legs on King Street through a maritime wet night atmosphere by the swanky bars and cafes. The street was dead, to be frank. Well, it is Sunday night, after all. Compassion hit my heart over the endeavour that people take for enjoyment by the consumption of spirits, while missing the spirit. Goodnight!

3 km
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