Strength in the Storm. Eknath Easwaran
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of Allah or Bismillah ir-Rahman ir-Rahim (“In the name of God, Merciful, Compassionate”).
* Probably the oldest Buddhist mantram is Om mani padme hum, referring to the “jewel in the lotus” of the heart.
* In Hinduism, one of the oldest and most popular mantrams is the one used by Mahatma Gandhi: Rama, Rama, – a name for God meaning the source of joy within.
What if you don’t want a mantram from your own tradition?
Many people are allergic to the religion of their childhood. In such cases, if no other mantram on the list appeals to you, Rama is simple, powerful, and carries no negative associations. You can never go wrong with Rama.
2. Once you’ve chosen a mantram, you’re ready to give it a good test run. Start by making it part of your day. Repeat your mantram silently to yourself whenever you have an opportunity. Remember, the more you use it, the more it will sink in. Here are some ideal times:
*While walking or jogging
* While waiting in lines or stalled in traffic jams
* Whenever you feel angry, anxious, upset, or afraid
* While doing mechanical chores like washing dishes
* And especially when you are falling asleep
During the day, the mantram will help keep you relaxed and alert. When you fall asleep in it, the mantram will go on working for you throughout the night as well.
One important exception: don’t repeat the mantram when you are doing something that requires attention, such as chopping vegetables or driving a car. That’s the time to keep focused on what you are doing!
Inspiration
Let Nothing Upset You
Let nothing upset you
Let nothing frighten you.
Everything is changing;
God alone is changeless.
Patience attains the goal.
Who has God lacks nothing;
God alone fills every need.
– Saint Teresa of Avila
2 Be at Peace in the Moment
Hurry blocks our access to our deeper resources. One of life’s most precious skills is learning to slow down and live completely in the present moment.
The Sanctity of the Present Moment
Introduction by Christine Easwaran
Recently we got an appeal that packed the desperation of the times into just one line: “I need to decompress – my stress level is insane! Help!”
Jean-Pierre de Caussade, a seventeenth-century Catholic priest, offers help in what he calls “the sacrament of the present moment.” Every time I read that phrase I’m reminded of how significant each moment is. Most of us are aware of this, but it’s so difficult to keep it in mind as time rushes us along. Tragically, we may need a crisis to remind us of what really matters because we’re so busy keeping up with all the things that don’t.
One of our friends, Jane, is a psychotherapist – one of many professionals who not only practice Easwaran’s program themselves but find it useful in their work. Jane recently sketched the kind of life she sees her clients dealing with. It’s a composite picture but one we all recognize, in others if not in ourselves:
Many couples come to therapy after realizing that they are disconnected from their partner and coexist or live parallel lives. She has a stressful position at the bank; he is a health care consultant who leaves Monday morning and returns Thursday night. The children are picked up after school at six or carpooled to soccer or dance, picking up burgers at the drive-through on the way. Then there’s homework or staying up too late to finish the laundry or work on that report. The next day, after they hit the snooze button several times, the rat race begins again.
Our days don’t have to be like this, even in today’s frantic world. Slowing down is within the reach of everyone. Not only that, it opens the door to peace of mind, a rich sense of fulfillment, and even joy – while helping us be actually more effective in how our time is used.
Heather, a longtime friend in Canada, learned this in one of the most challenging environments I can think of: as a hospital nurse, where skilled professionals prize the ability to do lots of things at once and do them fast.
Sometimes I can’t believe the chaos that goes on day after day on a hospital ward. Medications have to be given on time. Patients ring their call bells and you have to respond. Machines and phones and doctors and visitors and family – it’s a chaotic environment.
I took great pride in doing as much as I could as fast as I could. But I used to wonder: How can this be healing? Most patients are in pain, afraid, tired. This just adds to their discomfort and anxiety.
Then I heard Easwaran speak at a meditation retreat, and I went back to work determined to slow down.
It wasn’t easy. When you’re immersed in an important task and a call bell rings, you tend to rush in with the attitude “What do you want?” and your mind still on what you had been doing. Now, I started just paying attention to the patients and giving them what they needed.
The rest of the staff didn’t get what I was doing. They were rushing around, and when they saw me not rushing around so much they wondered if I was really doing the job. Some of them resented that I didn’t seem to be carrying my load.
But I found I was actually getting more done – and without all that rushing. It surprised even me. Others began to notice too, and their attitude changed. They saw that the call bell rang less frequently and the care I gave was more effective. When a patient is given undivided attention, they don’t ring the call bell as often. They seem to be more relaxed, even in a not-so-relaxed atmosphere.
In years gone by, whenever he saw work pressures mounting around him, Easwaran would frequently walk through the workplace smiling but silent, a quiet reminder to slow down and focus on the task at hand. He was a model of moving without hurry with unshakable concentration, never rushed by circumstance. In whatever he did he was all there, completely absorbed in the present. Instead of being driven by time, he was its master.
In this chapter he explains why slowing down gives us more time instead of depriving us of it – and, as always, offers practical suggestions from his life for how to cultivate this vital skill.
Be at Peace in the Moment
By Eknath Easwaran
One of the curious games I learned as a Boy Scout was musical chairs. There would be thirteen of us and only twelve chairs, and we would all circle around while someone sang our Scout song. Whenever the singer stopped, everyone had to find a seat – and of course, one boy would be without.
Each time around, one more chair would be taken away. As the game got faster and faster, we would begin to push each other and do all kinds of impossible things like trying to jump on a chair from behind, panicky because we were afraid we’d be out of the game.
Many people seem to treat life like this. Time keeps taking away the chairs, and we run around in more and more of a panic trying to get a seat – even if it means someone else will have to go without.
But in every age and culture there are a few – people like Francis of Assisi, Teresa of Avila, Mahatma Gandhi – who find this approach to life as meaningless as the game. After a few rounds of scurrying like the rest of us, they quietly step aside.
Like children, we might feel sorry for them. “Poor Francis! He can’t run around any more.” But we have to admit they seem to enjoy their choice. Great spiritual figures like these go through life without fuss and frenzy as if they had all the time in the world, and their lives seem so much richer than ours that we have to stop and wonder why. They even seem to accomplish more, so that their lives have enduring value, meaning, and the power to inspire.