To keep in the fire, I also followed propositions like, “It’s supposed to be service, service to the Names themselves, by saying them.” Just considered it.

I was not facing my altar with pictures of gurus, Panca-tattva, Radha-Krishna, Vrindavana. I was facing a wall. On the floor right in front of me was an empty container marked “San Benedetto” and the paraphernalia in my untidy suci kit. I was aware that my mind was dwelling on whatever my eyes took in. The words “San Benedetto” led to one train of thought, and the sight of my shaving cream led to another. “This isn’t good, sitting in this direction; the altar is better,” I thought. But I was so well set up by the window—awake and prepared for a long haul in this posture—that I stayed put and mostly closed or half-closed my eyes.

(_Begging for the Nectar of the Holy Name_)
JAPA POEM

I describe how I stubbornly,
ignorantly, did
not sit facing the
altar with sacred
pictures while I
did my japa, but
sat in the opposite
direction observing
mundane objects.
I did it because
I had the best
posture this way
and was comfortable
for chanting my sixteen rounds.
So . . . whatever it takes.