:: November/December 2003 Volume 2/Number 6

Ritual Matters (Pass it on)

By Adam Skolnick

The Malibu Hindu Temple grounds are alive with color, fragrance, and laughter when I enter the ornate plaza. We are gathered here to celebrate Navarathri, the annual nine day ritual honoring three goddesses: Laksmi, Durga and Saraswati. A bright-eyed elder dressed in a vibrant silk sari and adorned with a jeweled bindi captures my attention. She saunters stoop shouldered toward the altar of Laksmi, the goddess of prosperity, along with her toddling granddaughter. The little girl takes note as her grandmother makes a silent offering of fruit and red flowers to the goddess before prostrating and touching the stone floor with her forehead. It is a rite that has been practiced for a lifetime and it is passed on as the little girl mimics her elder.

Photo by Randy Dunbar

This is how tradition is often handed down. As a child I became immersed in family rituals of lighting candles for Chanukah before I could speak. Over the years, when the Winter Solstice approaches, I've felt pangs of nostalgia for family feasts, dysfunction and all, because holidays represent a time out of time. Life seems to stop on these special days, which allows me the space to review my place in it, surrounded by love, while connecting to and nourishing my roots.

In our core we are all connected to culture, society and spirit. Ritual's primary function is to make that connection tangible and present in our lives. Since the dawn of civilization, cultures throughout the world have conducted ceremonies to unite their communities, express a collective worldview and rekindle their union with the divine. As modern American yogis we have access not only to our own heritage, but also to the yoga tradition. Frequently they complement one another.

Fred Clothey, a professor of religion at the University of Pittsburgh and author of the forthcoming book Ritualizing on the Boundaries says, "Ritual is a quintessential way by which people express who they are." Clothey goes on to point out that in the annual Indian festivals, like Navarathri, rituals are multi-sensory. Here in Malibu, devout Hindus sit cross-legged in the chapel entranced by monotone Vedic chants. Others pull petals from aromatic flowers and gather fruit to offer to the goddesses while incense is burned to imbue the festivities with a profuse scent of rose.

This is not all that different from Jewish or Christian holidays that require the recitation of prayer, the preparation of particular foods, and even the burning of candles or incense like frankincense and myrrh. "Ritual affirms one's identity and passes it on," elaborates Clothey. "Through the use of icons, incense, and music, [people] can see, hear, smell and embody [their culture]." Navarathri requires specific flowers and fruit, incense and plants such as camphor and saffron to be used as offerings representing the first of the new crops of the season. For these, Hindus give thanks to the goddesses who have provided the power (Durga) and knowledge (Saraswati) to cultivate that, which has brought forth abundance (Laksmi).

Beyond culture, most rituals include practices familiar to yogis such as mantra, prayer, and meditation that benefit the individual physiologically and spiritually. "Ritual connects you with God and it also connects you with yourself," says Pandit Samudrala Krishnamacharyulum, one of the Malibu Hindu Temple's Priests. According to Clothey "participation in such ceremonies is thought to enhance the sanctity of the body and enact the kundalini energy." When the elder bowed at the altar, she was doing more than giving thanks, she was also allowing kundalini energy, the divine life force that courses through the spine, and blood to flood her third eye. This humble, symbolic act triggers the pineal and pituitary glands to release hormones that balance the nervous system and propel a blissful sensation throughout the body. Catholics may experience this as they bow during Midnight Mass.

Chanting, a powerful tool that steadies the mind, is an essential element of Hindu worship and the primary practice in Bhakti yoga. Sura, the leader of a local kirtan quartet, The Temple Bhajan Band, explains in his gravelly baritone that there are two elements to mantra and kirtan. "In Bhakti yoga the mind is trained by hearing the spiritual nature and vibrating the spiritual nature." By hearing and chanting the name of God, Sura says, "The mind is delivered to spiritual consciousness." These yogic elements compare to traditional Western religious observance. Jews feel the power of mantra when they chant Hebrew prayers, Muslims when they drone for Allah, and Christmas carols contain elements of Bhakti Yoga as songs of love and devotion about Jesus are sung.

Though a comparison between sacred Hindu mantra and Christmas carols may ruffle traditionalist feathers, Dave Stringer, a nationally recognized kirtan master, says, "When we chant together, the idea is not to chant to anything, but to make all these independent voices blend into one voice. And we chant to have an experience in ourselves, to overcome our inherent duality and become joined in the ecstasy of the universe."

There remains, however, a profound difference between the East and West and how we assimilate ritual into our lives. Westerners seem to confine ritual to specific holy days. Consequently, we are often unaware of the power of daily or more routine rites that can fuel personal evolution during any time of year. "One of the things that yoga asks of us is to see everything we do as an extension of our relationship with the divine," says Stringer. That's why in India rituals are often used as a vehicle for change and can be an aid during life challenges. If you want a new job, there is a ritual that can channel divine assistance for your quest. If a loved one is ill, (and) medicine is not enough, you must pray for recovery or if so inclined undertake a pilgrimage to a holy city.

Krishnamacharyulum, the Hindu priest, believes that in each case the practitioner is surrendering to God. "When we forget 'I' and surrender, then God can help. [Ritual] makes the mind more clear, the body too, and makes us more open to receiving fresh energy. When we do a ritual or pilgrimage what we are saying is 'I am not doing. I am instrumental, but God is doing everything.' We believe that when we do this, our fate will change, and we will get whatever we want. "

Yoga suggests a daily ritual that attunes the body and mind to our inherent divinity in preparation to meet the day's challenges. While sadhana, which translates as daily practice, is not unique to a particular lineage of yoga, in Kundalini Yoga as taught by Yogi Bhajan, there is a specific sadhana routine. It goes like this. Rise at 3:30am, take a cold shower, chant Jap Ji - a sacred Sikh call and response prayer, practice one hour of Kundalini Yoga and then chant specific mantras until the sun rises. "Ours is a formula to honor the connection between the being and the divine as the first thing we do to create the day," says Krishna Kaur, a local Sikh elder and kundalini practitioner. Kundalini teachers often remind their students that sadhana can have transformational effects if done regularly. "Every day you are reminding yourself that you and God are one," Kaur explains. "Over time this builds layers of clarity and stability into a foundation [for peace and happiness] that is unshakable no matter what the day brings."

One need not practice Kundalini Yoga to get a taste of sadhana. The early morning is when Buddhists meditate, and most yoga teachers will swear by the power of a daily practice at any time of day. One way to develop a personal practice is to adhere to a ritual of surya namaskar or sun salutations. "Surya namaskar is a Vedic ritual praising the sun," says local hatha yoga instructor Shiva Rea. "The sun is the center of the mandala of our solar system. It is the great teacher." It also happens to be the giver of life, and while some may still consider God an esoteric entity, the sun's power cannot be intellectualized away. Yet the potency of surya namaskar is in the asana sequence. "In modern life we identify the self as the doer, and the breath is subjugated," Rea concludes. "Surya namaskar reverses that tendency. When we do it we follow the [pattern of our] breath."

The great Ashtanga progenitor K. Pattabi Jois recommends a surya namaskar ritual with every new and full moon. He calls this Yoga Mala after the garland of prayer beads. There are 108 beads on every string, and Yoga Mala likewise calls for a series of 108 sun salutes. "Each round becomes a bead of the mala," says Rea who has practiced the ritual for seven years. Attendees at her Yoga Mala workshops don't hear much instruction, however.

Yoga Mala is about tuning into your inner guide, your breath, as you move through the two-hour practice. Rea divides it into four rounds of 27, and the entire class moves and breathes as one. "In the first round we pray for the self. We may bring in different qualities like compassion, inner strength and clarity, but we also pray specifically for what we want. As we settle in the prayers really resonate into the buddhi, the deeper layers of consciousness." The second round is dedicated to others, the third is a prayer for the world and the final round is aimed at a personal connection to the divine.

Somewhat surprisingly, Secretary Nadadur Vardhan of the Hindu Temple Society believes religion and the meaning behind ritual is secondary to the practice. "The real thing is the control of the mind and body. Historically yoga was a way of life, not just the physical," he says. "It's an integration of body, mind and soul and it has manifested itself in Hindu ritual." When viewed from this perspective, the elder's bow is more vital than the Goddess before whom she bowed on Navarathri. When I light candles on Chanukah the religious myth is transcended by the sound of a striking match and watching the delicate flame flicker on a dark December night. It is why the words of praise that ring during a kirtan jam fade long before the feeling of singing in unison. And perhaps that's why for many of us the annual ritual of family gatherings and feasts that accompany holidays - that feeling of union - always seem to take precedence to the religion itself.

 

Adam Skolnick is a freelance journalist and screenwriter based in Los Angeles.