Mantra Magic.
{Photo via pinterest.com}
Om Namah Shivaya!
I honor the divinity that resides within me.
The sound of my own voice always seems vaguely foreign and somehow disconnected. The utterances attempting to escape my inner sanctum, past my lips and out into the world are often held prisoner in the cavity of my throat, lodged inside a solid lump of fear.
Verbal communication meltdown is a common affliction of the introverted, chronically shy or anxiety-ridden among us. Particularly familiar to those who overthink. Absolutely. Everything. (raises hand sheepishly. That would be a big Yes to all the above).
My family moved around a lot when I was growing up, and I frequently found myself in the cringe-worthy role of New Kid in School.
My inherent tendencies toward excessive self-consciousness and painful shyness were not exactly conducive to winning any popularity contests: and really, in hindsight, thank you for that.
Those experiences in verbal awkwardness were key in my gravitation toward writing as a primary outlet for self-expression. Over time it became clear that writing is an integral part of who I am and the most natural vehicle to carry my inner thoughts and feelings.
It has evolved into much more than a craft. It is my art: a safe space for creativity and healing. Instinctively I understand that writing is the way I am meant to express myself in the world, if only for myself.
It is answering a calling which stems from a deep yearning to set free the stream of language that relentlessly circles round and round in my brain, my heart, and my body. Allowing the words to flow freely is either an exhilarating adventure or a calming meditation, depending on the moment.
At all times, it is an awakening of every part of me.
No wonder then that one of the most exquisitely evolutionary moments in my life occurred in the moment I unexpectedly heard my own voice. I mean really heard it.
The words bubbling up from deep within, rising above the fear blockade in my throat, were neither conversational or conventional. The language was foreign, the meaning unreachable. What was it — this new, strange, mysterious sound current emanating from me?
Mantra.
A few years ago, I attended a Yoga class which included a Mantra meditation. I had no idea what that term meant.
As the teacher gave instructions for the meditation, I was certain she was looking directly at me when said, “Don’t think about it. Just let the sound out. Give yourself permission to feel it.”
Given that my usual modus operandi in such situations is to keep my mouth firmly shut or utter barely a whisper that no one could possibly hear, it felt like a very pointed direction. Something in me responded to this guidance and I took a deep breath, opened my mouth and let the sound out. Full tilt.
No holding back.
The experience was indescribable. The sound originating somewhere deep within was strong and sure. Crystalline and pure. Projecting absolute conviction and something close to devotion. I couldn’t believe this was actually my own voice. It simply seemed impossible.
An emotional tidal wave ensued. That moment was about recognition. I knew that I was expressing myself in a way that I never thought I could, and it felt absolutely right. A sensation similar to that of being introduced to someone I’m sure I’ve met before but can’t quite place where or when.
It was as though I was becoming reacquainted with an old friend returning home from a long journey. And literally, I was. My voice was coming out to play in a way I never expected.
And so my love for Mantra began, and continues to this day.
Mantra unblocks my throat. Mantra teaches me not only to listen but to really hear. Mantra illuminates my voice. Mantra stops the chaotic thoughts churning inside. Mantra heals me.
Mantra is magic.
*****
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