When I was a kid, I can remember how even the simplest of things brought me immense joy. Just making a paper boat during the rainy season and watching it float in a puddle outside the house would be a blissful experience. A small cadbury was something which I would relish with total delight.

Similarly, when I first came into Krishna consciousness, it was a phase of newfound joy and innocence. I would absorb myself fully in every kīrtan. I had a recorder, and I would record every beautiful tune I heard, and I would want to hear it again and again. I would preserve lectures like treasures. And when I felt low or uninspired, I would go back to those recordings to renew my enthusiasm.

In those early days, I was very submissive to all my seniors. I never thought of saying “no” to any service. There was no sense of ego, position, or being someone special. My aspiration was clear and simple: I want to advance in Krishna consciousness. I want to become a pure devotee.

But now, after a few years of practice, do I have the same aspirations?

When Growth Turns into Drift

Ideally, as we spend more years in Krishna consciousness, our aspirations should become deeper and more mature. But if we’re not careful and mindful, our spiritual trajectory can begin to drift.

Instead of progressing toward Krishna, we may start developing aspirations for recognition, position, or adoration. Our “North Pole” starts shifting.

Mahāprabhu has already shown us the true North in the fourth verse of the Śikṣāṣṭakam:
na dhanaṁ na janaṁ na sundarīṁ
 kavitāṁ vā jagadīśa kāmaye 
mama janmani janmanīśvare
 bhavatād bhaktir ahaitukī tvayi
“I do not want wealth, I do not want followers, nor do I want beautiful companions or fame. My only desire is to serve Your lotus feet, birth after birth.”

This is the compass direction we’ve been gifted. But if we stop checking that compass regularly, we may think we’re advancing—externally there may be applause, appreciation, garlands, and adoration—but internally, we may be moving further from Krishna.

The childhood innocence fades away. And in its place, judgment, diplomacy, and calculation creep in a very subtle manner.

The Power of Remaining Small

Tukārām Mahārāja says:

लहानपण दे गा देवा, मुंगी साखरेचा रवा।
ऐरावत रत्न थोर, त्यासी अंकुशाचा मार॥
ज्याच्या अंगी मोठेपण, त्याला यातना कठीण।
तुका म्हणे जाणो, व्हावे लहानाहून लहान॥
Give me childhood, O Lord. An ant relishes even a granule of sugar, but the mighty elephant Airāvata suffers under its aṅkuśa (goad). Whoever possesses great power inevitably faces great suffering. Tukārām says, “Understand this, and indeed, become smaller than small.”

We must be innocent like a child. But, we must not be childish.

A child is definitely innocent, but he is immature as well. He doesn’t know how to act on many occasions.

Grown Up Yet Childish

Romaharṣaṇa had mastered all the scriptures, yet he was too proud to acknowledge the superiority of Balarāma. He had grown up in his age and in his knowledge of scriptures, yet he remained immature. His innocence was lost because knowledge entered his head rather than going into his heart.

When a devotee’s knowledge only remains in the head, the very same knowledge becomes a burden by which he may drown in material existence very easily.

The Innocent and the Mature: A Devotee’s Ideal

The Four Kumāras were children, but not childish. They retained their childlike innocence while possessing profound spiritual maturity.

Prahlāda Mahārāja was only five years old, but he displayed extraordinary maturity. His father was a grown-up fellow, but childish. He was intent on chasing after women, wealth, and power. Prahlāda’s innocence and faith in the Lord were unshaken even in the face of deadly threats.

Dhruva Mahārāja was also just five. He had a child’s eagerness to follow Nārada Muni’s instruction with sincerity, but also carried an adult’s ambition—to claim a kingdom greater than his great-grandfather’s. Yet, after attaining the Lord’s darśana, he realized how foolish that ambition was. His real growth happened not when he got what he desired, but when he understood the futility of his ambition. That is when Dhruva really grew to an adult’s maturity while retaining his childlike innocence.

In the journey of our devotion, we must keep searching for our lost childhood. We must never grow up and start expecting facilities. Pride can very likely be the beginning of our fall.

Therefore it’s said — Radhe Radhe kaho, chote banke raho.

Never Forget Why We Started

As practicing devotees, we must always ask ourselves:
What did I come to Krishna consciousness for?
Why did I join this movement?
Was it for respect? Recognition? Career advancement?
Or was it for something much deeper?

We must constantly remind ourselves: “I came here for spiritual growth. I came here to purify my heart. I came here to love Krishna.”

When that ambition stays clear and alive within, then our Krishna consciousness can flourish in the best possible way.