Reflections from the River: Water, Consciousness, and Living Souls in Newmarket

Reflections from the River: Water, Consciousness, and Living Souls in Newmarket

There’s a ripple in the river, some laughter in the air, and toes curling in cool water just north of Toronto. Behind the camera, Maria’s grinning. In front of it, Mark is speaking to us and the river and anyone ready for a little peaceful noise among the clatter. This is Juicy MagiK on the daily, and today—maybe, especially today—we’re letting life itself do some of the talking.

If your soul’s feeling a bit covered in dust, or you’re searching for that taste of sweetness in the ordinary, you’re in the right place. We’ll splash through family stories, stand ankle-deep in wisdom from the Vedas, and even explore how saying just one good name out loud might change the weather inside your heart. Breathe in, friend. The river is lively and so are you.

Connection, Community, and A River’s Welcome

The break was good. Juicy MagiK recently helped bring together the Bitcoin and Freedom Technology Summit, and plenty of people showed up, bringing fresh questions and new energy. Out of that, Mark invites everyone—stranger, curious lurker, friend—to be part of the Juicy MagiK agora, a digital community space inspired by the Greek word for marketplace. But this isn’t a marketplace of things, more like a garden of relationships. Bit by bit, as you add your email or words or a smile emoji, the relationship grows. That’s the undercurrent, always: Life is built on how we relate, with people, with place, with Source.

Now, Mark’s toes are in the river. There’s the sound of the wind, maybe a lawn mower in the distance, someone’s radio farther off. The everyday stuff stays. But here, in this patch of river, there’s a bigger lesson. This river, once ailing, is alive again thanks to love and community action—Mark’s father, David, helped with the restoration as part of the Lake Simcoe Conservation Authority. That’s the same watershed feeding into Lake Ontario to the south and Lake Simcoe to the north, right at the heart of the Great Lakes, holding more freshwater than anywhere else in the world.

But the water, says Mark, isn’t the main magic. There’s a sign that jokes, “If there’s any magic in the world, it’s in the water.” Mark grins—water’s a wonderful material element, sure, but the true wonder is life itself. Water is the stage; the dancer is the life force showing up as plants, bugs, fungi, little fish, even the garter snake that slipped by the other day. Where life flows, that’s where attention ought to rest.

For a deeper look at how water relates to consciousness and intention, The Consciousness of Water: How Intention Shapes Reality explores both science and spirituality on this topic.

Everyday Wonder and Family Grounding

North of Toronto, for about half the year, the Juicy MagiK crew shares a space at the Center for Abundance and Transformation Technologies. It’s beautiful here—lush, wild, brimming with little fires of life that light up at night (hello, fireflies). Mark’s mother, Erika, lives upstairs. She’s quick, tricky, and much loved—sometimes called “Hasenfuß,” German rabbit’s foot for good luck. Sharing a home and caretaking run deep; they did the same for Maria’s mother in Europe.

The day isn’t just about the river, but all the little, simple pleasures—bare feet on clean earth, walking through the grass, taking time to untangle from technology and distraction. Mark, with a twinkle, admits it’s not possible to go barefoot everywhere. But here, they keep it tidy, picking up trash where it turns up. Experiencing real connection starts at ground level, or, to be exact, ground riverbed.

Simple joys, Mark insists, are the most real and nourishing. The water doesn’t discriminate; it holds up everything that enters—frogs, bugs, plants, the quick-moving garter snake. Stand in it, feel it, watch the small economies of life bustling along the surface, and something in you wakes up a little, too.

The Life Force: What Moves Us, What Leaves Us

There’s a lot said these days about transcendence, but Mark comes back to roots. What really animates us? He remembers folks who’ve passed, how the body’s elements remain, but something essential has left. The Vedic view, and his own experience: “Life doesn’t come from matter—matter comes around life.” The body’s a vessel, the soul or spirit is the motor, the breath, the current.

He tells a story: The living entity in the body is like a microphone. All the parts are there, but without electricity, it won’t transmit sound. Plug it in, the current flows, suddenly the microphone works. That’s life. Without the animating force, the body is just a heap, destined to return to its parts.

We’re not just parts. We’re persons. Even in Hindu tradition, wherever there’s life, there’s a person—plant, bug, animal, person. Each radiates with unique presence. And yes, Mark wades into that quirky word: the aura, the halo. Some see it, some don’t, but Kirlian photography and old religious art both are obsessed with that glow—you know it when you feel it near someone whose heart is wide open.

If you’re curious how sacred sound shapes reality in Hinduism, The Thread of Sound, Language and Reality in Hinduism offers an in-depth exploration.

The Many Faces of the Divine, Saintliness, and Sparkling Souls

Mark pays his respects: to spiritual teachers, to the line of tradition (the parampara), to the Vedas and to that presence within the heart he calls the Supreme. And it isn’t just in those with physical hearts—plants, bugs, anything alive carries this spark. The Lord, the Source, has many names and faces: impersonal energy, personal form (Bhagavan), the ever-present inner friend (Paramatma).

The wonder, Mark says, is that God can be everywhere, doing everything at once—distinct and one, close and far, all in loving relationship. This dynamic, called Achintya Bheda Abheda Tattva in the Vedic texts, is worth repeating (even if you stumble over the pronunciation). Lord Chaitanya brought these ideas in the 1400s, but the heart of it is simple: We’re sparks from the fire, drops from an ocean, never the Source itself, but awesomely alive nonetheless.

Simplifying, Softening, and Cleansing the Heart

Life gets noisy. There’s traffic, there’s a lawn mower, worries, habits, old dusty karma. Most traditions, Mark points out, say the first step is to clean the heart. If you want to see the reflection of the divine inside, you don’t yell, demand, or bang on the door like a fussy boss. Life doesn’t bend to will like that. God isn’t working the late shift for your orders. That’s just old conditioning. Instead, it’s about acting in a way that shows you’re ready—softening, listening, asking for help, sometimes even surrendering.

“Seek first the kingdom of God and everything else will be added.” That’s from the Bible, but similar messages resound everywhere. When we demand attention and try to run the show, we keep ourselves locked in the cycles of pleasure and pain—karma, in Vedic lingo. Accepting responsibility, opening to grace, and learning from saints (like St. Francis) nudges us gently toward change.

Let’s face it, fame and power mostly hide our fear of not being loved. But when we give, when we love, when we understand instead of just wanting to be understood, the heart starts to clear, the mirror starts to shine.

Mantra, Meditation, and the Transformative Power of Sound

Now, a treat: the Gauranga breathing meditation, straight from riverbank to screen. Mark walks us through it as simply as standing in sunlight. Draw in a peaceful breath, let it out with the sound: “Gauranga.” Open your lips, close your eyes halfway so you don’t snooze off (but also don’t lose yourself staring at squirrels—yes, that happens). The sound is what matters. Not just “noise,” but transcendental sound—sound that comes from and returns you to your peaceful center.

In Vedic thinking, the name and the named aren’t separate. God’s name is as potent as God, untouchable and sweet, never owned by any language or people. Pick a name that sits well with your heart: Govinda, Gauranga, Hare Krishna, any of the millions of names. You don’t have to understand at first—just give it your best and notice how the heart feels afterward.

To try this method at home, you might like the guidance on Mantra Breathing (Gauranga Breathing), which details the technique and its calming effects.

Here’s a quick step-by-step for Gauranga breathing:

1. Sit Comfortably: Relax your body, drop your shoulders.
2. Inhale Slowly: Think of the sound as you draw breath.
3. Exhale: Whisper or chant “Gauranga” as long as the breath lasts.
4. Repeat: Keep eyes softly closed, tune out distractions.
5. Let the mind rest: With each sound, let stray thoughts go.

Sound meditation helps to wash off the static of daily life. It’s simple, free, and doesn’t need belief to work—just as soap and water don’t ask you to have faith in them before cleaning your hands.

If you’re curious about the science of chanting and mystical states across traditions, see Rhythmic Chanting and Mystical States across Traditions, which discusses how rhythmic chanting brings about deep peace.

Rooted Spirituality, Gratitude, and the Beauty of the Everyday

Mark reminds us that all traditions—Vedic, Biblical, Sufi, Christian, and beyond—emphasize the power of sacred names. “Our help is in the name of the Lord,” sang the Psalmist. Wherever you are, however you say it, speaking the name brings peace closer. Even Mark’s mother recently took comfort in saying “Govinda”—and the brightness of her face was proof that sometimes, the heart knows what the mind is only catching up to.

The living journey is never about resisting the world, but stepping lightly through it, carrying a clean heart. Suffering will find us, but peace, even for a moment, is always available in breath, mantra, a walk by the river, or a soft word in the dark.

Mark closes with gratitude, and wishes us—all of us—peace. Peace within, peace without. “Salam alaykum” as friends say in Arabic. Use your freedom kindly, the heart asks you. Sample the rasa, the taste of the divine, in each moment.

And should you want to support more riverside wisdom, projects, and the continuation of community, take a look at Juicy MagiK’s project support page.

Conclusion: Returning to Simplicity, Returning to Self

Coming back, stepping out of the river, maybe a little wet but much lighter, we notice that spiritual life really can be simple. Stand barefoot when you can. Thank the water and the sun. Reach out for names that taste sweet on your tongue. Cherish the faces around your dinner table and the strangers who may become friends. And, every once in a while, clean your heart with sacred sound.

Thank you for joining, wherever you are. Whether in Newmarket on the water or across the world reading this, the invitation stands: breathe easy, love well, be gentle with yourself, trust a little more in the unseen spark. You are, just by being here, part of something precious.

Haribol, Namaste, and peace be with you and upon you. Until next time—stay juicy.