What a Sunday this turns out to be. The cosmos meets the Soul in a triptych of meaningful events throughout the weekend: First, we had a Blue Moon, the second full moon of the month; then, Passover began; and now, Easter arrives. Each occurrence signifies the move from old ways to new, and the opportunity to heal and transform one’s thoughts and actions. The power of these energies in triplicate offers a beautiful moment to focus on personal limitations or obstacles that one needs to release or surmount, in order to move freely toward the future and its possibilities.
For the past forty days, I have been practicing a kundalini kriya for Liberation. When I began the set on February 21, I made a note of the start and end date: At the time, I had no idea that April 1 would be this year’s Easter Sunday, nor was I aware of the Passover and Full Moon dates. About halfway through the kriya, I more deeply researched the qualities of the practice, and noted that it was an excellent physical reset for the pelvis. At the time, I felt that I had gravitated intuitively toward the kriya as a means to realign my pelvis, which had been rotated due to injury.
Within the last week, however—the final countdown of the 40-day commitment—I had an unexpected, ferocious blow-out with a family member. Almost immediately after we had quieted down and ended the discussion, I realized that the force and potency of my anger stemmed from a pile-up of similar denials from this person in the past. I also began to recognize that my anger could not be appeased by the other person, someone who denies current problematic dynamics, and who can not remember dismissals in the past. I had to begin my own exodus from the desperate expectation of an apology; I had to abide a completely different mindset, so that my heart could rise from the stranglehold of pain. I had allowed anger to become my shackles, with each bitter word a new link in the chain.
Then, seemingly out of the blue, I muttered a sentence that seems ridiculous as I write it now: Its simplicity seems almost unhelpful, but the unbidden nature of its arrival had the quality of obviousness that often accompanies some of my most profound realizations. I spoke the words, yet they seemed to originate from outside of me: “Don’t be angry.” And suddenly, I did not need to be; that emotion as it related to the torment of a lifetime no longer had a purpose or a power.
Today’s mantra is the final meditation for the kriya (a set known as Foundation for Infinity). Frankly, I did not connect with it when I began the practice 40 days ago; the mantra is one line from its full source, a mantra that I do enjoy and have chanted innumerable times. To utter one small chunk of the mantra initially felt incomplete and unsettling. As time does with mantras, however, the sound vibrations gradually amplified the energies within and around me, so that the short mantra became a powerhouse in its own right.
The word in the mantra that signifies Liberation is Mukanday [moo-kahn-day]. Its repeated precursor, Har, signifies the Divine Infinite—or however you conceive of the universal, eternal, creative force.
Special note: The “r” in Har is rolled a bit, so that it almost becomes a “d” sound. Often, one will see the sound phonetically noted as “hud”: However, rather than altering the vowel sound, I find that to focus on the alteration of the “r” more consistently yields the proper vibration.
To begin, first locate the specific point behind and between your two front teeth, on the very front edge of the upper palate. Practice tapping the point a few times with the tip of your tongue. As you chant, the first two words—Har, Har—should be articulated precisely at this point. The final word—Mukanday—will naturally connect with the spot on its final syllable.
Before you begin to chant, “Har, Har, Mukanday,” sit and breathe deeply for a few minutes: Give yourself a chance to contemplate anything that may be holding you back: emotions, perspectives, behaviors. Consciously acknowledge your openness to a new way: The awareness that something needs to change, coupled with your desire to break free is the first step to ushering in the fresh energies.
In your comfortable seated position, hands relaxed on the knees (palms up or down, with no mudra, or whatever mudra feels right to you), take a long, steady inhale to begin. Begin with “Har, har,” almost as if it were hyphenated, or one word. Allow a natural beat before you chant, “Mukanday.” Inhale to begin again, and chant the mantra on your exhale: “Har, har, Mukanday.” The sounding of “har, har” occurs monotonously, as if you hit the same key twice on a piano. Let “Mukanday” have a melodic, downward tone: If you can hear “do, re, mi” in your mind, “Har, har” would be “do-do,” and “Mukanday” would mimic the tone of “me-re-do.”
Chant with your closed eyes focused on your Third Eye. Continue for 3-11 minutes.
At some point as you chant, you may feel called to whisper, rather than vocalize fully. Allow yourself to pursue the quiet tone. As you continue, you may find yourself pulled to chant silently. Know that then you have begun to move the energy of Liberation closer to your heart and soul; you have begun to pave your way toward transformation.