Aad Guray Nameh / I bow to the primal truth;
Jugaad Guray Nameh / I bow to the truth for all creation;
Sat Guray Nameh / I bow to the perfect truth;
Siri Guru Dev-ay Nameh / I bow to the great invisible truth.
All that is just to give you a few seconds in space and time to be late, because time you cannot change but you can be a little late—11 feet away. It’s called the principle of 11-feet distance. If a person can be delayed in such a way, so that in space and time, they have 11 feet, the accident or incident can be avoided. But it cannot be avoided more than four times. You must remember that. So there are four chances to be delayed by 11 feet. YOGI BHAJAN
I have been chanting this mantra for many years. It is one of the most beautiful mantras that I know. I know of none, by the way, that are not beautiful. It is just that I have found this one to be a refuge in personally difficult times and in celebratory times as well. It seems to answer in me a need to be within the bliss within the self and this mantra, for me, answers that need.
It takes my soul, which has existed in some shape or form, throughout all time and it expresses my soul’s humility before the existence of God in that truth or wisdom. It places me (as I am within the divine) with all that has existed, will exist and now exists, before that truth of God. It enables me to acknowledge. my belief as timeless and perfect. And even those manifestations of the truth that are hidden from me due to my ignorance, laziness and ego, I can acknowledge as true.
“Yes,” you may say but what does all that mean in the real, toe stubbing, tear and fear inducing world. What does it mean and how does it apply to the exultation and inspiration we gain from it’s repeated use both as a protective cover and even as a weapon?
Some personal history: It is very early in my ashram living experience, I had so far lived in a large airy room with six other men--two African-Americans, a psuedo-hippy like myself, an insurance agent(!) and one certifiably schizophrenic older gentleman who was later to drift into homelessness, alcoholism and drug abuse. We got along well, supportive of each other’s sadhana practice, accommodating personal habits unusual and familiar, and simply living a lifestyle together that was new and invigorating. Now, because of an impending marriage among two other ashram members, the “housing” situation was on its ear. As it all shook out I was assigned a lowly place in a dank but not exactly dirty basement area. I had never lived in such a “cave”! Yes I had lived in my car, a VW bus on a beach in California, that was a total luxury. I had stayed in tents at state parks (with others of my type) but never in a basement--I saw it as an insult to what had been a middle class upbringing. I remember wandering around that basement figuring out my next move which wasn’t going to be into that space!
Who did I know?
Where would I go?
What would I do now?
Aad guray nameh...
This is too much...
Jugaad guraay nameh...
In this...this place...this space
Sat guray nameh...
Why here? Why me? Why now?
Siree guru dayv-ay nameh...
This wasn’t exactly the temptation of Christ by Satan, of course not, but still ...
Aad guray nameh...
Why me...
Jugaad guraay nameh...
Why here?
Sat guray nameh...
I just can’t...
Siree guru dayv-ay nameh...
I needed some slack, some way out!
And it came! Of course the mantra persisted in its musicality, persisted in its inspiration (though I hardly knew its meaning) and finally persisted in breaking down my resistance to what ultimately became a very temporary move. I gave in, with what might have been a less than graceful expletive. I gave in finally I guess because the substance and vibration of a particular mantra won over a seemingly selfish desire for decorum and or comfort when in truth I was living in a state and a space that meant more to me than personal choice.
By the way, my next move in the ashram accommodation sweepstakes was to a tiny space, in which I literally could NOT stand up, under a stairway. I kid you not, I was in Harry Potter’s shoes without a magic wand or a snowy owl years before J.K Rowling even had the idea. Unlike Harry, I believed it to be a step up. After all, I did have Kundalini Yoga & Meditation and a teacher, who needed the other stuff?
I use the mantra in many ways, specific and general. During yoga, during almost any exercise regimen and during the making of prasad on a Sunday morning before gurdwara. There and then I can chant as off-key as I will as I stir and wait for the toasty smell that lets me know it is time for the explosive addition of boiling water and honey to the flour and ghee.
As that moment happens, in tremendous outburst of steam and spatters of ghee and flour it is redemptive as well. Amidst and as the result of conflict, sweet comfort emerges as does the sound of the mantra and its effects emerge from the need for that comforting.
And so, it is: before I turn the key of my car; before yoga classes (after the Adi Mantra); before I play the gong in Yoga Class; and many many other times of day, or hours, whether I am in difficulty or I am in comfort.
Aad Guray Nameh;
Jugaad Guray Nameh;
Sat Guray Nameh;
Siri Guru Dev-ay Nameh.