Listening holds a significant role in our human experience. From the time we are born, throughout our journey of learning, reading, writing, and engaging in conversations, hearing shapes our understanding of the world.
Not only do we hear external sounds and words throughout the day, but we also listen to the constant stream of thoughts in our minds. When we read, we hear the words resonating in our thoughts as if they were being spoken. When we write, we hear the words forming as we put them on paper. When we contemplate, we engage in an internal dialogue. All our thinking occurs in some form of language, and we perceive our thoughts as if we are reading a script scrolling across the canvas of our minds.
In addition to the external exchanges and ambient noises surrounding us, the world within us is filled with an endless stream of inner chatter. While noise-canceling headphones may offer temporary relief from external distractions, they cannot silence the internal dialogue.
Even in our sleep, the chatter continues in the realm of dreams. The only respite we find from this constant barrage is in deep sleep, where there are no words, thoughts, or sounds. However, as morning arrives, the cycle of internal noise resumes.
The problem lies not in the noise itself but in our lack of control over it. The ability to hear is vital, but when we become passive recipients in an uncontrolled and chaotic realm of words, sounds, and noise, our lives become disordered. To regain some semblance of control, we manipulate our physical spaces by closing doors, shutting windows, or using headphones to block out unwanted sounds and conversations. We also choose the people with whom we spend time. While these measures help to some extent in minimizing external disturbances, they do not address the challenge of controlling what we hear within ourselves when we think, read, write, or create art.
Deep thinking is essentially a dialogue with ourselves, as we sift through and organize our ideas, thoughts, and passions. When we engage in focused reading, we hear the voice of the author or the characters, if reading fiction, speaking through the pages. Creative writing is the act of putting into words what we hear within our minds. Every authentic work of art is the artist's response to what resonates in their heart.
The content of our inner hearing is crucial, but we also need the ability to choose when to listen and when to tune out. Often, the voices within are not helpful; instead, they create a cacophony of conflicting thoughts and sounds, leading to confusion and a fragmented way of thinking and living. This is not conducive to leading a spiritual life, as spirituality requires discipline.
In Vedanta, the first practice for a student is known as "shravana" or hearing. It involves listening to the highest truth from a teacher and sacred texts. Hearing, when done in the right manner, can be transformative. However, to truly benefit from this practice, we must learn the art of listening. The significance and technique of listening as a practice are explained in detail in the chapter on "Practice" in the book "Knowing the Knower: A Jñāna Yoga Manual."
Listening is also crucial in the practice of mantra repetition, or Japa. The initial hearing of the mantra occurs when the guru imparts it to the disciple during the initiation ceremony called mantra-dīkṣā. Subsequent hearings happen when the disciple begins reciting the mantra, known as "doing Japa." It is the mind that repeats the mantra, and we are expected to "listen" to the mantra in our minds. This is the ideal state. However, in practice, the mind often opens itself to other sounds without our consent or awareness.
We start hearing various thoughts, such as plans for the future, recent conversations, or distressing events, drowning out the sound of the mantra. We may regain awareness when we realize that the mind has wandered, but we don't know when it will be drowned out again by the internal voices. It becomes an ongoing struggle.
But it doesn't have to be this way. The practice of Japa doesn't have to be a constant internal battle. Meditation invites us to return to ourselves and reclaim our innate peace, joy, and freedom. We can prevent this serene and blissful state from becoming a chore or a struggle.
The first requirement is love. Do we truly love our chosen ideal, and do we love the practice of Japa and meditation? Love has the power to overcome any obstacle. Nothing and no one in our lives should be more important than the object of our love. We need to evaluate the depth of our love for the Divine and recognize that success in Japa is directly connected to love.
A helpful practice is to remind ourselves, before starting Japa, that for the next few minutes or however long we are sitting in meditation, nothing and no one is more important than our chosen ideal and our mantra. No form is more precious than the form of our chosen ideal, and no sound is more melodious than the sound of our mantra. The practice of Japa is profoundly meaningful and rewarding. When this affirmation is made with love, faith, and sincerity, it greatly helps in quieting the other voices in our minds.
Rhythm is another element that influences the quality of Japa. Those who enjoy running or taking long walks understand the importance of rhythm. Once we find the rhythm in any activity, we can sustain it effortlessly for an extended period. Artists also know this experience as being "in the zone," where their creativity flows naturally and abundantly. The same applies to Japa.
When we discover the inherent rhythm embedded in the mantra, it becomes easier to focus and repeat it consistently for a longer duration. This rhythm cannot be consciously generated; it arises spontaneously. When we engage in Japa with a calm mind and a heart filled with love, something magical happens. Every inner movement, including our heartbeat and breath, synchronizes with the repetition of the mantra. A rhythm emerges, creating a seamless flow. The key is not to pay attention to the rhythm while doing Japa. After completing the session, we will realize its presence when we feel lighter, brighter, and happier.
Another valuable approach is to view Japa as more than just the repetition of a mantra. It can be practiced as a prayer, an offering, or a form of surrender. The mantra itself is a brief prayer. We can recite the mantra with a prayerful heart, where each repetition is equivalent to saying a prayer multiple times. Alternatively, we can perceive Japa as a form of worship, with each repetition symbolizing a flower being offered at the feet of God. We can even consider ourselves as the flower, offering ourselves entirely to the Divine. Surrendering to the Divine becomes a natural outcome.
These approaches help silence other sounds and voices within us while practicing Japa: (1) cultivating love for God, (2) affirming the significance of the practice, (3) engaging in it as a prayer, worship, or surrender, and (4) discovering its rhythm. Additionally, establishing a consistent routine of practicing Japa at fixed hours and in a dedicated space further solidifies the practice.
When we engage in Japa daily, month after month, the mantra's sound becomes clearer and more pronounced. It becomes a powerful tool for inner transformation and spiritual growth.
Remember, the power of listening extends beyond the physical realm. By mastering the art of listening to our own thoughts and tuning into the sacred
sounds of mantras, we can deepen our connection with ourselves and the Divine.
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