Why Do Yoga People Chant So Damn Much?

As a student, therapist and teacher of yoga, I am no stranger to an 'om'. Or a Gayatri, an om srim sreyai namah, a visokavajyotismati, a lam, vam, ram, yam or ham either for that matter. So why do yoga people put so much emphasis on chanting? In the modern world, particularly in the corporate space where people are so focused to a goal (generally money), chanting looks more like affirmation: the constant repetition of an intention OR to put it more specifically: a constant reminder to the mind of what we are and the direction in which we wish to go. Chanting is a meticulous art of orientation - turning us to the path we want to be heading and bringing us back there again and again and again until our feet are firmly walking the right way and our mind is singularly-focused. It is the simplest and easiest way for the most potent taming of the mind. But did I always look upon them with such favour? That I did not.

 Like all tools of yoga, the action is as much the practice as the result of that action, and in yoga all the actions have a strong component of seeing – who is me? So what does chanting allow us to see about ourselves? Have you ever been in a class and the teacher has guided you to a chant and even in the instruction something rises within you? On one day it may be glee, on other days it may be dread. Whatever it is, this gives us a moment to see ourselves through the context of the action of chanting itself. Why am I so afraid? What is the seed of this insecurity? We may feel very happy to chant but then somewhere along the chant, the sound gets stuck within us, with repetition of practice we may see that we run out of chant in the same place within our body over and over. In some parts of the chant it comes out beautifully and then it narrows into a squeaky restricted sound or disappears completely. In this we may observe a certain part of the body or in the breath where we are blocked. Then through this observation we can transform! We can begin to soften to remove these places of constriction that the chant has revealed at such a subtle level! Yes! These are the places we want to go in our yoga practice! Then we can start to see something deeper, we can change from somewhere deeper and from the subtle, the potent blooms.

 To clarify further, perhaps a personal anecdote will assist. When I first started practicing yoga (actually for about the first 10 years), if I went to a class where the teacher asked us for just one om, I would complete the class and then, never return. After some years, I started to question why this was the case. What was happening within me that I was so affronted to chant? Over time, through reflection, I came to see that I was afraid, in this particular context, of being heard. So what was my issue with the context? By this stage I was a radio broadcaster, my life revolved around the projection of my voice for the sole person of being heard by others. What was the issue around being heard through the sound of these particular words? Again, through reflection, I came to see that I had insecurities around this definition of me; of the type of person I thought chanting signified me to be. I was a heavy-drinking, heavy-rock-loving type of gal, not a…a chanter! I started to (very slowly) see this cage of my own identity, that there were things I chose to do or not to do based on their ‘fit’ into the persona I had created for myself in the world. Then, even as I allowed myself the process of abolishing that restriction, still my chanting was so difficult, so strained. The chant would be fine in my belly but in my chest it would bury itself so deep in tightness to squeeze it’s way through my throat where some more sound would again open up. I started to (very slowly) see the restriction – the suffering – that sat in my chest, which as it turns out, was also deeply affecting my inhale, deeply affecting my openness as a loving, listening being out there in the big wild world. These are just a few things, of the many, that have been part of the deeper processes of my practice, just through chanting alone. Every day I chant and every day it continues to show me something about where I am in that moment, whilst simultaneously turning me back to the direction that I am headed.

 An extremely important component of yoga, a component that in fact begins to reveal a partial definition of yoga, is that every action has effect and so we act always, incessantly with good intention. If we understand the effect of a particular action, we have a much better understanding of when to use particular tools to help bring us out of problems. This is so poignant with chanting. When we have identified something of ourselves through any of the tools of yoga, we can use the chants to refine our way of coming out of those problems. Of drawing out from within ourselves, the qualities that already exist but have been forgotten and become dormant. As an example (please take examples lightly as they must be applied in the context of an individual as a whole), let’s take the case of someone who yells frequently at their children. They have developed a pattern of impatience, most likely supported by many other facets of life, such as poor sleep, consumption of foods that are difficult or heavy to digest, stressful workspace, difficult interactions with others etc and this has sadly become patterned to turn toward the children. This can cause great suffering to the parent, who feels so much shame later in seeing their child’s frightened or confused face and whilst this too can feed the same behaviours in a subconscious attempt to normalise what is bringing pain, it can also motivate change. In this case, along with some good asana and pranayama appropriate for that person, a chant of ‘om srim sreyai namah’ will have some powerful effect if the student is diligent and motivated to their practice. This chant for the goddess Laksmi may focus on the serenity of Laksmi’s face, on how she always remains with this same unruffled expression, the same upright, open posture in which she sits, regardless of what is happening in the world around her. The om component of the chant represents everything, the portion of the ‘om’, of the totality, we’re focusing on is the strength of Laksmi ‘srim sreyai’ to endure with love and endless genorosity, the namah is the surrender of identity – not me. Simply put, the part of ourselves that we wish to awaken is that which is represented by the archetype Laksmi – the ultimate, patient, enduring Mother (this chant is for Dad’s too!) - I am Laksmi.

 If someone is feeling down, slow and sluggish, a wonderfully vigorous chant of ‘om suryaya namah’ for the sun or assistance to locate our way of being in service – our life purpose – with ‘om sraddhaya namah’. To release tension from the jaw ‘ma’, to strengthen and clean the low abdominal area ‘hram, ‘hrim’, ‘hrum’, ‘hraum’ or ‘hrah’. And so it goes, an endless palette of delights – some loud, some soft, some strong, some heavily aspirated, others melodic, fierce, celebratory, all deeply impactful, purposeful.

 There is no more potent tool for the mind than chanting, it is a wonderful Universe to explore and through the exploration, the transformation takes place. Remember that everything in yoga is always simple! So give yourself loving permission to see that which has become weak within you and turn yourself in the opposite direction of that weakness and go there! All you need to do is open your mouth and say ‘ma’….;)