The Mantra Without Borders

When Gurumayi first spoke during the satsang on Mahashivaratri, thanking everyone for making time to chant the mantra, I felt that familiar, incandescent glow around my heart. Of course, I knew that’s why we were all here in the Universal Hall—to chant the mantra with Gurumayi. Still, when Gurumayi thanked us for doing this, I had an “Aha!” moment. I realized that this was a conscious choice each of us had made (even if it was the easiest, most obvious, most natural-feeling choice). We had decided to participate in satsang, to dedicate this time to the eminently worthwhile endeavor of chanting the mantra.

Gurumayi explained that it was auspicious to be chanting the mantra on Mahashivaratri, that this practice would bear fruit, and that the nectar of the mantra is very calming—especially when the fire of the world can be intense. I vividly remember my response when Gurumayi said this; I felt the truth of her words pulsing in me as though to some primordial rhythm, my heart seeming to beat in time with Lord Shiva’s damaru. I envisioned the mantra as a kind of balm, soothing not just my own being, but the entirety of this world. I became even more cognizant of the import of what we were doing—chanting as a sangham, in satsang with our Guru.

I also took Gurumayi’s words as a reminder of the power we have to effect change. Not just that—we have the responsibility to effect change. We have received the enlivened mantra from our Guru. The mantra is the sound-form of God. I first learned this from Gurumayi, and later I read more about it in the Shiva Panchakshara Stotram. It’s stayed with me ever since—this endlessly fascinating concept, this truth, that God is present in holy sound.

In the Shiva Panchakshara Stotram, a hymn by Adi Shankaracharya about the five syllables of the mantra (na-mah shi-va-ya), the sage explains that Lord Shiva lives in these syllables. The mantra is the Lord’s guise, his form. Moreover, the descriptions that Adi Shankaracharya gives of Lord Shiva—and by extension, the mantra—are very telling. The sage describes how Lord Shiva is anointed with water from the Ganges and with sandalwood paste, both of which are traditionally cooling substances. The implication is clear: the mantra has cooling, calming, healing qualities. There are words over which people go to war, and there are words that just as forcefully forge peace. These are those words—Om Namah Shivaya.

It’s been my experience that this assertion of the mantra’s power is not just theoretical. It is not some fanciful notion. I cannot tell you of how many stories I have heard from Siddha Yogis about the chants and saptahs that Gurumayi has held in the wake of natural or manmade disasters. Time and again, the severity of those disasters has been lessened—and in some cases, prevented—in the aftermath of Gurumayi’s satsang. It has happened frequently enough to defy coincidence or serendipity. Gurumayi has given us the image of the scintillating blue dome for the Siddha Yoga Universal Hall; I believe that, by chanting the mantra, we are fortifying the energy and environment created within this blue dome. The light of protection that we are fostering becomes more concentrated, more potent. And we surround ourselves in this light of protection. This light travels with us wherever we go.

One of the more recent examples that I can remember of the light of the mantra, the light of satsang, perceptibly expanding outward is from the beginning of 2020. At that time, Australia was being ravaged by wildfires. Gurumayi felt great sorrow over what was happening to the people, the animals, and the land of Australia. So on January 3, 2020, Gurumayi held a satsang in Shree Muktananda Ashram for the sole purpose of invoking blessings in the form of rain for Australia. During this satsang, we chanted the mantra Om Namah Shivaya. We also played rainmaker instruments as Gurumayi led us in singing the primordial sound AUM.

The next evening, on January 4, Gurumayi held another satsang, a live video stream specifically for Australia and New Zealand. Participants recited Shri Guru Gita, once again holding in mind the intention of sending prayers and blessings to Australia. Gurumayi has spoken about the power of sangham and how, when we join our voices, we have the strength to uplift the world. We have the ability to magnify auspiciousness. That is precisely what I felt was happening as we invoked Lord Shiva in these satsangs—as we supplicated the Adi Guru; as we prayed to Shanta, the embodiment of peace; as we beseeched Pashupati, the protector of all creatures.

In the hours and days that followed, Siddha Yogis from all over Australia wrote in to the Siddha Yoga path website to share about how rain had begun to fall consistently in parts of the country that had previously been beset by fire and drought. And while the fires were by that point so widespread that it took a few more weeks for them to be fully contained, Gurumayi’s satsangs had made a tangible difference. Things began to shift. The nectar of the mantra was, quite literally, soothing the fire of the world, even as we all contended with unimaginable loss.

As this example illustrates, the power of the mantra reaches far and wide—farther and wider, in fact, than we can conceive. One does not even need to be a Siddha Yogi to repeat the mantra or experience its benefits. So many people—whether they are friends with a Siddha Yogi, a family member of theirs, or just someone who has the happy luck of encountering the mantra in some other fashion—have found solace in repeating Om Namah Shivaya.

I want to know how you have been recalling your own experiences of the power of the mantra. Are you remembering the stories you’ve heard about the power of the mantra? Have you been journaling about your own experiences of the mantra? Have you been sharing about the mantra with others? Have you been encouraging them to begin their own practice of mantra japa?