I started working with the Gayatri Mantra while I work with the transformation energy of Sekhmet. It is both strang and perfect how my yoga teacher training has aligned with my final year of instruction with the Silent Eye School of Consciousness. When we agree to walk the path, though, the roads we take converge to unite to the deeper awareness we seek.
I was introduced to the Gayatri Mantra by a dear friend who sent me a video of Deva Premal singing it several years ago. As I listened to Deva’s unparalleled voice, I felt as though my cells were being realigned to a deep memory of truth. I was hooked. Transfixed. I played the video for days, maybe even weeks, and each time I did I wept with the beauty of what it brought to me.
Now it has come back to me through yoga. Placed into my lap by one of my teachers at a time when it is needed both individually and collectively. After what has felt like hard work for the inner and outer voice with my earlier mantra practices, the Gayatri Mantra feels like a welcoming balm. It tempers the inner fire and soothes the wounds that were reopened for healing.
The Gayatri Mantra is ancient. It’s Sanskrit sounds work through each chakra in the body, releasing and realigning to the true self. The healing potential of the mantra is so powerful it appears in ancient texts of the Vedas and the Bhagavadgita. It is a dedication to the sun god Savitri, and calls us to awaken to the sun within that is also outside of us. It works to open us back to our deepest origin, the Light of the Divine Consciousness that resides in all of us.
I am using this mantra as a tool to balance the firey energy of Sekhmet whose claws are ripping through me in what sometimes feels like a brutal effort to expose all that is false both within and without. Her talons dig deep, piercing the deepest origins of fear as they open wider the path to Holy Truth. I feel her raging through me in a restless urgency that can leave me off-center and in need of a quieter peace. The Gayatri Mantra brings me this. The ancient notes digging deeper than Sekhmet’s claws to find the core of Love and peace that is ever-waiting to be present. It is a healing balm in these turbulent times. A gift that has come, like most unexpected gifts, at the perfect time.
I have started working with the mantra Aham Prema, which translated into English means “I am Divine Love.” 54 repetitions with the mala beads brings my voice outside of myself to a state beyond insecurity. My body becomes a humming vibration of energy amplified by the back of my throat. Constriction releases as I settle into the frequency of the ancient notes of Sanskrit.
“I am Divine Love.” Aham Prema.
Quite some time ago, I was sitting in a pub with a friend of mine. We were talking about yoga, and she was telling me about how it brings her to a state of discomfort. “It’s like welcoming the divine into your body,” she stated.
Aham Prema. “I am Divine Love.”
Is this not what we all seek? Yoga, and all that it encompasses, for it is not merely a series of poses, asks us to let the divine into our bodies. This energy of unconditional love. As we open ourselves up to the practice, we cannot help but let this energy in, and at the same time, the divine in us becomes ignited.
What if, though, we are not used to unconditional love? To being loved by ourselves in this state, as well as by others?
Dissolving the barries of conditioning is not an easy process. We must become naked to our true selves. Is there not a more vulnerable act?
Aham Prema. “I am Divine Love.” Say it out loud. Where do you feel it? Where does this mantra take you?
I am brought to the throat, the place where the history of constriction of my truth is held. The power of my own voice, I notice with the first repetition of this sound feels uncomfortable. There is the impulse to cringe at what my brain wants to perceive as disharmony. The false voice of the critic creeps in to takes its accustomed place of silencing. Yet, I continue on. I move the beads through my right hand, holding place with my left. I feel the voice grow in strength.
By bead 10, I discover my voice has taken on a life of its own. It fills me with its resonance. I no longer care if it sounds pretty because I am already drawn into its raw power.