The power of a word is something I've spent years developing a real relationship with. And I mean that honestly. There have been periods of my life where what I said carried no weight at all. Not because words don't work. Because I hadn't yet built the truth behind them, or the consistency.
So when I talk about mantra, I'm talking about something I've tested. Lived with. Wrestled with. And come to understand in a way that has very little to do with religion or tradition, and everything to do with what actually works.
Here's the simplest way I can put it. Mantra is a phrase, said with intent, held without attachment. That's the structure. The saying of the words. The intent layered into them. And then, and this is where most people get tripped up, the non-attachment to the outcome. Because mantra doesn't create immediate change. What it does is orient you. It puts you in the vibration of where you're trying to move. Think of it as a tuning fork, not a command.
And I think mantra comes in as this really important aspect of reality, but also one that doesn't need to be classified so strictly. There's this hunger in some religions and spiritual circles to only speak in designated mantras, in certain ways, to certain gods. And I understand where that comes from. But honestly, these can just be simple phrases.
One of the best examples I can give of how modern society has quite naturally landed on mantra are the alpha motivation videos on YouTube. Straight quotes, straight phrases, tied in with music to elevate your vibration, tied to an intent or phrase that someone can identify with and align to for the day. That's mantra. People are doing it every day without calling it that, and it's working, because it's doing exactly what it's supposed to do.
So I think that's a really comfortable nesting place to start getting comfortable with the idea, and to begin to unravel this tightness and dogma around having to say certain things in a certain way. You don't. The reality is always about responding to how something makes you feel and learning what actually works for you.
And I'll be the first to say, there are some mantras that really work for me and a lot that don't. Because at this point in my life, and at different points throughout my life, different things land differently. And that's okay.
On tonality
This is the piece I think people miss most. You can say a mantra plainly, and you can say it with depth and intention. Think about the phrase I love you. And then think about saying I love you with such a deeper intent, from somewhere lower in the body, where it actually lands. We know instinctively when someone's speaking from their head, airy and a little high. And we know when someone's speaking from their chest or their gut. There's a conciseness and truth to it, even if we can't always name why.
That's what I mean by tonality in mantra. It's not that you need to speak in a deep voice. It's being aware of where the intent is actually coming from when you articulate it. Because the tonality carries the vibration, and the vibration is the whole point.
I love you is actually a really great mantra to practice with, for exactly this reason. It can be said in so many ways. It brings up a lot internally. And the pace at which someone says it, the place in the body it comes from, tells you so much about what's actually going on for them. Where the hesitancy is. Where the quickness is. Where the truth is, and where it isn't quite there yet.
On choosing mantras that keep you whole
This is something I feel really strongly about. A lot of mantras, prayers, and songs in spiritual and religious circles are written from a place of smallness. We are lesser. We have sinned. The divine is above and we are below, asking. And I genuinely have to put up some internal walls when I encounter that kind of language, because everything you say leaves an imprint. Everything.
I only want to choose mantras and prayers that keep me at a baseline of self-respect. Because I know inherently that we are all souls having a human experience, and what occurs here feeds back to source. And if a mantra is asking for forgiveness in one direction, it needs to be offered in both. Always both ways.
There's a solace and a peace that can be found in really acknowledging that all actions are already almost forgiven because they serve. It's more about being in grace and gratefulness for the experience. And that might be confronting to some people because they've been through some real things. But there is so much healing when we ask for forgiveness from both directions simultaneously.
A prayer for Surya
There's a Sanskrit prayer I sing, to Surya, the sun god. The Gayatri Mantra. Om Bhur Bhuva Svaha, Tat Savitur Varenyam. My pronunciation isn't perfect, because this isn't my native tongue. And for me, that actually makes the layering of intention even more important. Because I know what I'm connecting to. I know its intent is love. And so when I'm saying these words, I'm not negating myself, I'm connecting to that love and loving it back.
I speak specifically about this because I notice a lot of mantras are said from this angle of shrinking yourself before something greater. When that element comes up in a song or prayer, I choose to stay conscious to it, hold my own ground, and connect instead to the love that I know is at the root of it.
The mantras I actually use
I want to share these because I think there's something real in seeing how specific and personal a mantra can be. These aren't borrowed phrases. They came from actual experiences, actual patterns I noticed in myself, actual moments where I needed something to say.
When I've completed something meaningful for myself, or had a really productive stretch, and I feel that pull to reach for technology, to drain the positive energy back down to neutral, almost like deflating myself because I've expanded further than I'm comfortable sitting with:
I am safe. I have completed this task. I don't need to shrink my energy to balance. My expansion is my home.
I usually only need to say it once. My body absorbs it and acknowledges it. That rebalancing reflex just quiets.
When I've just come from something wonderful, I'm full of joy and excitement, I want to race into the next thing, call the next person, keep the energy moving. Even when that impulse comes from a genuinely good place, I'm probably going to lessen myself by giving it away before I've let it settle:
I let this joy settle into my body. I keep this energy with me. I don't need to move this anywhere. This is complete without being shared. I can enjoy this quietly.
When there's a lot of energy rising, particularly after a deep meditation session, and I open my eyes to that uncomfortable buzzing sensation of being very full of something I don't quite know what to do with:
I am safe to hold this level of energy. This energy strengthens my path. This energy fuels what matters. My body knows how to integrate this. I let this energy settle into my body.
And one I come back to often, because it tells me exactly where I'm at depending on how it comes out of my mouth:
I am safe. I belong. I allow in love.
Say that one out loud. Notice where it flows easily and where it catches. That's information worth sitting with.
And sometimes, no words
Some days I genuinely don't want to say anything out loud. And there's complete peace in that too. Our thoughts become our words, our words become our actions, our actions become our habits, our habits create our character, and our character creates our destiny. So even in silence, you're practicing. Just staying conscious to what's coming through. Noticing where it's coming from, is it the left side of the head, the right side, the centre? Finding where your truth is. And then speaking from that truth when you're ready.
Some days I struggle to say any mantra out loud. And recognising that is the practice too. It's all about finding what works for you on the day, and moving with it.
I hope something in here has served. Thank you for reading. 🙏