I'm no stranger to Mondays.
But mantras... well, I'll admit I've always had a little aversion to the concept and even the word "mantra." When really the word by definition is just another name for a slogan. But in practice, a mantra is much more than a slogan of course. A mantra is a word or phrase that one repeats slowly and diligently for several minutes or even hours on what it supposed to be a daily basis.
I've never claimed to be a creature of habit and I certainly have never been recognized for my decisiveness, so how am I supposed to choose a slogan for myself and then commit to reciting it daily? Besides, it's all a little too close to bordering what I call "deep-end-yogi" practices* (I have yet to fully accept that application of chanting and dancing and singing, which may sound weird to some reading this, but when I've tried these things, I feel inauthentic and thus do not include them as a part of the way I practice yoga and mindfulness). I used to feel this way about meditation too, until I think I came into a part of my life where meditation suddenly became important and useful to me. I relate it to the reasoning that I grew up hating mustard, and now I have three different kinds of mustard in my fridge because I love it that much.
Could mantras be a step toward the deep-end? I don't really think so, but this morning as part of an exercise in Wanderlust: A Modern Yogi's Guide to Discovering Your Best Self, I sat on the beach and recited the following mantra 108 times over the sound of the ocean:
om namah shivaya
Yes, I felt awkward at first. I sort of hoped that no one on the beach was watching me. Then about half way through, I felt a little tired. However, for the last 10 counts, I opened my eyes and looked around at the horizon, the people splashing in the waves, a mother teaching her son to surf, and my eyes welled up a little. Perhaps from the unburdening relief from having left my stress-filled job one week ago. Perhaps just because it was a beautiful day.
I can't say whether this mantra, or the practice of recital was responsible for my sudden rush of emotion on the beach this morning. But what I can say, is that the eeriness I normally associate with mantras is maybe being broken down or changed in some way.
I have no real lesson to share from this experience other than to say, "Hey, I tried this today, and this is what I thought about it." I believe it is the trait of a good teacher to follow the path of a curious student. It is a part of my responsibility to myself and my students to continuously explore my practice and the philosophies behind it. But then to also, share those experiences in my teaching... so there.
I hope you'll continue to read and learn about my discoveries along side your own.
See you on the mat, or maybe somewhere else.
Best,
Lindsey
*The best way I can describe a "deep-end-yogi" is to compare this to someone who has blind faith in their beliefs and practices. Someone who without question subscribes to a great variety of spiritual and physical practices as described within the vast yogic doctrines. Also and usually, it's someone who uses terms like "bhakti" in their email signature. This person is someone who is fully submersed. Please do not misconstrue my feelings about deep-end-yogis as negative. I love them and I am inspired by them, but I recognize that I am not among them. I still question where my beliefs reside and that is my way of acknowledging my own truth. I think I still have yet to explore the deep-end of the yoga pool.
