I couldn’t find a direct flight from Hervey Bay in Queensland to the Gold Coast of New South Wales, so I had to fly down to Sydney and double back up, arriving at Coolangatta airport after dark.
Driving an older white Mercedes, Madhura Priya pulled up to the curb looking as I remembered her: a vivacious dark-haired Italian, full of life. Even though we hadn’t seen each other in 20 years, we felt comfortably familiar, as you do with someone who’s shared part of your youth. She gave me a brief tour around Coolangatta in the dark before heading inland to the small town of Uki.
Madhura Priya’s partner Deva welcomed me warmly into their home. I was so grateful for their hospitality after traveling solo this past year. An Aussie raised within the Hare Krishna community, Deva is a fantastic chef of traditional Indian food. He and Madhura Priya met while traveling in California. They married and she moved to be with him.
We chatted over tea, then I got a tour of their home and the back veranda which faces Mt. Warning (Wollumbin), remnants of an ancient volcano. The land was alive with the song of crickets and cicada. Cozy in bed I fell fast asleep.
We spent Sunday morning at the temple of their guru making garlands of fragrant gardenia and frangipani for the alter. Deva and Madhura Priya are active members of Shri Govinda Dam, a Hare Krishna temple located close to their home. With three Krishna temples in the ‘North Rivers’ region of New South Wales, Krishna has a strong presence here.
In the afternoon Madhura Priya and I drove to Byron Bay to walk around the craft market followed by dosas for lunch at a local Indian restaurant.
We cooled off in the ocean for a bit before heading back to Uki in the late afternoon.
Krishna Village
I was scheduled to start a volunteer work-trade program the next morning at nearby ‘Krishna Village,’ a Hare Krishna temple, retreat center, farm, primary school, yoga teacher training, “eco-community” and tent village of about 50 rotating volunteer workers from around the globe.
Monday morning Madhura Priya rummaged through her home to find bedding and a tarp for me, then we drove to Krishna Village. By the afternoon I was climbing a tree in the pouring rain trying to secure the tarp over my tent, which was particularly difficult in a downpour as I kept sliding back down the tree. Eventually, I got things situated but not before I was completely soaked.
Very few volunteers at Krishna Village identify as Hari Krishna devotees. They come to learn about farming, healing, yoga, and spiritual lifestyle.
Myself, I wanted to be surrounded by nature and a supportive community for yoga and meditation practice. The place was recommended by an Aussie friend I’d met in India. I have no draw to Hare Krishna teachings but I have no aversion to them either. I was told this would be a ‘non-issue’ which was true.
Hare Krishnas’ practice ‘Bhakti Yoga,’ the yoga of devotion. For initiates, it’s an austere life of work, study, and spiritual practice. It’s believed that through the worship of guru, deity, or personal God, a devotee merges Atman (individual soul) with Paramatman (the Absolute or Primordial Soul).
Of the four Hindu paths of yoga (Bhakti, Karma, Jnana, Raja), I am more suited to Jñana yoga, ‘the yoga of wisdom and knowledge.’ In Jñana yoga, the mind is used to inquire into its own nature and transcend identification with thoughts, as practiced in Advaita Vedantic (Non-Dual) teachings. I’m drawn to the simplicity of this direct path and less toward emotionally based spiritual practices with elaborate ceremonies and rituals.
Breaking free from destructive patterns of thought and behavior is the objective of all of yogic paths. Yet each mind has a different set of hang-ups. The various methods provide tools for navigating through a specific mental construct and samskara’s.
Samskara’s are the inherited karmic tendencies or thought patterns that develop through conditioning of culture, upbringing, and experience (including past lives). These patterns direct our perception, resulting in repetitive behaviors both positive and negative. Samskaras are strengthened by repetition and deepened through lifetimes.
We all have unique mental, emotional and karmic compositions and that’s the beauty of it. Like a mandala leading toward the center, or spokes of a wheel, there are many ways to the central truth.
So it doesn’t matter to me that Bhakti yoga is not my orientation. The environment is generally an uplifting place to be. I’m happiest living in a clean and wholesome environment, surrounded by self-reflective people.
The schedule at Krishna Village starts at 5 a.m. with a class of yoga asana. Then work hours begin with a group ‘check-in’ at 6:15 a.m., before dispersing to our various jobs (kitchen, garden, cleaning crew, animal care, temple, handyman, etc…). We work for two hours, then breakfast at 8:30. We work another three hours after breakfast, ending at 12:15. Kirtan (devotional chanting) begins at 12:30, followed by rotating classes in various related subjects. Lunch is at 2 pm, then free time for the rest of the day with dinner at 6:15 PM.
The land was gorgeous. I loved the animals, working the gardens, helping in the kitchen, and I did meet some special people. One in particular developed into a true friendship.
Originally from the UK, Kyla lived in Japan for years and now has Australian citizenship. After completing our volunteer work, we spent many afternoons together exploring the coast and surrounding areas.
One evening we drove north to Queensland for a housing auction and just-like-that, Kyla bought a house in Uki. The following week we visited the property a number of times, walking the land and discussing her plans for a permaculture garden and yoga retreat center.
After a couple of weeks at Krishna Villiage, I’d had enough. Kyla was leaving to attend a yoga teacher training in New Zealand and I didn’t want to be there without her. The majority of our fellow volunteers were quite young.
The weather had been an unexpected challenge. I wasn’t prepared for the torrential rainfall this part of the world absorbs on a regular basis. Working in the rain, then resting in a droopy, muddy tent wasn’t what I had in mind, and the thought of doing it without Kyla there was unappealing.
So I packed up my gear, and Kyla drove me to another Help Exchange gig further north in the rural hills of Nobbys Creek. We hugged ‘goodbye’ and she drove away.