Fasting, Guacamole & God: A Soft Little Hare Krishna Day In Nature
Some days don’t need a big plan. They just need water running nearby, jungle all around, and a simple Hare Krishna chant you can fall into like you’re stepping barefoot into a river.
This little moment from JuicyMagiK is exactly that, a sweet riverside kirtan with call-and-response chanting, imperfect (and lovable) pronunciations, and that relaxed kind of devotion that doesn’t try to impress anybody. After the chant, there’s talk of bright green nature, a few cheeky fish nibbling toes, and a partial fasting day that somehow ends with the very practical joy of guacamole.
A hello for the “sweet souls,” then straight into song
It starts like a lot of real life starts, with greetings that feel more like a hug than an announcement.
Mo calls out to the “sweet souls,” there’s a quick check-in about someone needing to head out soon, and then the simple decision: let’s sing a favorite one today. No long lead-up, no big framing. Just, okay, here we go.
And that matters, because it sets the tone for the whole video. This isn’t a polished performance. It’s a tiny circle, open-hearted, welcoming, and a little playful.
Setting up the kirtan (call-and-response, nice and easy)
Before the chanting really gets going, Mo explains the flow in plain language:
- One person starts.
- The other follows.
- Then it turns into a back-and-forth chant.
That’s the beauty of kirtan in the wild. You don’t have to know anything in advance. You can listen for a minute, catch the rhythm, and step in when you’re ready.
It’s also a kind way to include someone who’s new. It quietly says, “You’re not behind, you’re not outside the circle, just follow along.”
If you want background on what the words mean (because it can feel like pure sound at first, which is also fine), the chant is commonly known as the Hare Krishna Maha-mantra. Krishna.com has a clear overview of the mantra and a simple explanation of its purpose in bhakti practice: Hare Krishna Maha-mantra explanation.
The chant begins, imperfect voices, honest hearts
Then the chanting starts, and it’s exactly what you hope it’ll be: human.
The words tumble out in that familiar pattern:
Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna
Krishna Krishna, Hare Hare
Hare Rama, Hare Rama
Rama Rama, Hare Hare
Only, in this moment, it’s also “Hurry Krishna” at points, and “Christna” sneaks in, and there’s laughter in the edges of it. It’s not mocking. It’s affectionate. Like, we’re trying, we’re showing up, we’re singing anyway.
At one point, there’s a soft little “I love you” woven right into the chant, like a private note passed to the Divine in the middle of the chorus. That’s the mood here, devotion without stiffness.
And honestly, that’s one of the most comforting parts of group chanting. The mantra doesn’t ask you to be perfect. It asks you to be present.
For a deeper look at traditional meanings and common interpretations, this page lays it out in a straightforward way: meaning and significance of the Hare Krishna mantra.
Why chanting outside feels different (feet in the water, jungle all around)
After the kirtan, the vibe widens out into the setting.
They’re surrounded by “beautiful mother nature,” and Mo points out how special it feels, like the air itself is helping. There’s a mention of negative ions, that feeling people often describe near moving water and thick greenery, where everything feels a little cleaner inside your chest.
Someone says the jungle is full of light. Not in a poetic, trying-to-sound-wise way, but in that simple, stunned way you say it when you’re actually looking at it.
This is the kind of place where you don’t need to force a spiritual mood. It’s already there. You can feel it on your skin, in the sound of water, in the way your shoulders drop without asking permission.
And that’s the subtle message under the whole video: sometimes devotion isn’t an effort, it’s a response. The world gets bright and green and loud with life, and the heart answers back with a chant.
If you’ve ever wondered why chanting the holy names is treated as a full practice on its own (not just background music), Krishna.com also speaks to that directly here: why chanting God’s names matters in bhakti.
The fishies that bite, the shriek that follows, the joy of being alive
Then comes one of those small, hilarious nature moments that makes everything feel more real.
Someone mentions fish biting their toes. Not once, but three times. There’s a shriek. There’s laughter. Mo admits it was fun to watch, with the gentle tease of being glad it wasn’t happening to someone else.
It’s sweet because it’s so ordinary. Spiritual life still includes being startled by tiny fish. You can be in the middle of a holy day, chanting by the river, and still yelp when nature says, “Hi, I’m also here.”
That’s part of what makes the video feel like a real visit, not a staged scene. The devotion isn’t floating above life, it’s sitting right in it, feet in the water, toes being nibbled.
“Swim with us,” an invitation instead of a performance
Right after that, there’s this open invite: swim with us.
It’s not said like an influencer callout. It lands more like a friend turning their head and making room for you in the moment. Like, you can join if you want. You can just listen too. Both count.
And it’s worth pausing on that, because it’s a thread running through the whole clip. The tone is always welcoming. The chant is shared, not presented. The setting is offered, not sold.
That’s why the call-and-response works so well here, even if you’re alone on your couch. It still feels participatory. You can whisper the response. You can hum it. You can just let it wash over you.
A fasting day, a partial fast, and the very real craving for something green
Then the conversation shifts into food, which, let’s be honest, is often where spiritual practice meets reality in the most tender way.
They mention it’s a fasting day, and they’re doing a partial fast. Not extreme, not performative, just a simple “we’re keeping it light today.” Mo shares they haven’t eaten much, just a little milk in the morning.
And then comes the plan that feels both holy and funny: guacamole.
There’s a note about it being “friendly” for the day, with restrictions like no grains, and also avoiding certain other foods (it’s said casually, like, you can take it as far as you want, but this is what we’re doing). The point isn’t to create rules for anyone else. It’s just sharing the texture of the day.
Fasting days can do that. They make food feel simple again. They also make you weirdly grateful for the basics, like avocado mashed with salt and lime, eaten outside after a swim.
If you want a simple reference for how people explain the mantra and its effects on the mind and heart (the way chanting and fasting often pair in bhakti settings), this overview is easy to read: Hare Krishna mantra meaning and benefits.
“All glory to Shri Guru and Gauranga,” and what that praise is doing here
One of the closing lines offered is, “All glory to Shri Guru and Gauranga.”
In this context, it’s not a slogan. It’s a gesture of gratitude, like tipping the heart toward the teachers and the tradition that carry the chant forward.
There’s something grounding about that kind of phrase when it’s said softly in nature. It reminds you that this sweet little moment by the river is also connected to something bigger, generations of people singing the same names, in temples and streets and kitchens and forests, in perfect pitch and terrible pitch, in Sanskrit and in whatever pronunciation comes out when the heart is leading.
Keeping the circle open after the video
Even though the clip is short, it leaves that feeling of being included. Like you were there for a few minutes, even if you weren’t.
If you want a place to connect more directly with JuicyMagiK beyond the video, they share their community portal here: Juicy Magik Agora community registration.
They also list ways to support their projects here: support projects by Juicy Magik.
Conclusion: small practices, big warmth
A riverside kirtan, a few funny mispronunciations, fish nibbling toes, and a fasting day guacamole plan, it all sounds almost too simple, until you feel how much heart is packed into it. The chant becomes a thread that ties the whole day together, water, jungle, laughter, devotion, hunger, and gratitude. If you’re craving a quieter kind of spiritual practice, this is a reminder that showing up can be gentle. Sit with the sound for a few minutes, and see what in you softens.
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