Chanting and I, we go way back…
I learned to chant when I was –
somewhere around 5, I suppose. Fruit cake that I am.
It was summer with my father –
I remember he wore only white cotton and black china flat shoes – he cooked
completely vegan – and he meditated for what seemed like an eternity every day…
and he taught me how to chant.
Om Mani Padri Om.
Om – the sound the spirit – the
beginning and end of the universe…
Om is the jewel in the lotus of
the heart.
Isn’t that beautiful? Inside my
body there is a beautiful pure white lotus flower, inside the flower there is a shining clear
jewel, inside the jewel resides the spirit of the universe…
total fruitcake land, I’m
telling you.
Still, the faith that former
alter boy taught me in those formidable years has fared me very well in my
life.
Both of my parents used to
listen to Gregorian chants – which, if you haven’t heard them, are truly
astounding. The voices of the monks resounds and fills the space and the
caverns of the psyche…
In high School I learned about
Artemisia Gentleschi – her science and her art and her mystical chants…
Later, someone very close to me
also went deep into Indian religion… and he asked me to do with him a chanting
class. A woman (I don’t know what her station was – teacher, indeed…) came to
his little apartment in the East Village – where he used to collect crack vials
on the street… she came and she taught me the body mechanics of chanting. She
gave me a mantra I don’t remember – I told her I had my own, but she said I
should never say “OM” – that it was believed too sacred to speak.
Lately it has bothering me that
so many teachers will ask you to chant but won’t tell you what you are
chanting. I think it is cavalier. I think if we are not connected to the
language we are disconnected from connection with others…
I like the way at the beginning
of a yoga class which asks students to chant the voices waiver and clash… how
at the end of the class – of two hours of practicing communally – the voices
flow together and build into one sound.
Yesterday I tried chanting OM
in my living room.
Amazing how such a simple – and
known – exercise could bring up so many feelings of self consciousness, fear, self flagellation… I could barely hear myself. I could barely force the sound out of
my mouth and throat. Couldn’t feel it in my chest or my head at all.
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