A few people have asked how I came to have the spiritual name Shanti. I’ve held off on sharing the story because of all that it encompasses. It’s not a short answer.
First, let’s understand what Shanti means.
THE MEANING OF SHANTI
Shanti, in the ancient language of Sanskrit, means peace. Shanti can also mean calmness, rest or even bliss.
Now let’s take the meaning of Shanti into the intention and purpose of its mantra.
THE MANTRA OF OM SHANTI
A mantra is a word or sound repeated to aid concentration in meditation.
Om Shanti is the mantra of peace. Om is recognized as a universally sacred sound.
The mantra is traditionally said three times for peace in the body, mind and spirit. It can also be chanted thrice for peace in the past, present and future. (Shanti Mantra - Meaning and Benefits)
Now, what is a Spiritual Name?
A SPIRITUAL NAME
“…A spiritual name is the designated destiny that becomes your identity on the Earth… it is the guiding force. And, it is a prayer.”
“Spiritual names are vibrational blessings and further it is the frequency of our name makes the ride all the more easier. If you receive a name, it is important for you to not shy away from it or shame it. It is important for you to OWN it. Within our society, taking on another name is like turning your back on your parents and your family but it is nothing of the sort.”
BECOMING SHANTI
It was during the Pranayama and Asana course of my yoga teacher training in Integral Hatha Yoga principles that Om Shanti became imbued into my my mind and heart.
True to the word “Integral” the various branches of yoga were integrated into our training. Most of the western world is familiar with the physical limb of yoga - the asanas (poses). In actuality, there are eight branches of yoga. The word for this in Sanskrit is Ashtanga.
Yama (attitudes toward our environment)
Niyama (attitudes toward ourselves)
Asana (physical postures)
Pranayama (restraint or expansion of the breath)
Pratyahara (withdrawal of the senses)
Dharana (concentration)
Dhyana (meditation)
Samadhi (complete integration)
The practice of meditation is truly a practice of quieting the mind to enable one to be present. This is when and how we can cultivate our inner awareness and capacity to witness what we are experiencing (Niyama). In a culture that conditions people to diffuse outward, being present in the moment and to what is within, can bring us back home to the self. The practice of meditating (Dhyana) can can include breathing (Pranayama) and reciting mantras to aid in one’s concentration. (Dharana)
A traditional Integral Yoga class opens with the Om Shanti mantra to invite practitioners inward, to cultivate a meditative practice that brings the body, mind and spirit into a union of harmony. As part of our instruction during the course, we practiced the Om Shanti mantra each day. After 108 hours of training, I could almost recite it in my sleep; it had become a part of my frequency.
At the initiation of the program, our instructors asked if we (the students in training) would like to receive a spiritual name. (A spiritual name is meditated upon and can be received by the individual or their spiritual family.) I’ve had nick names at various points in my life and thought it would be nice to receive a new one. I felt it would honor this new chapter of my life.
Those of us that said yes received our spiritual names during our graduation, upon receipt of our certificates. It was exciting to witness my peers receive their names. A few for example:
Maria became Amma (Mother Goddess)
Nancy became Nandini (To Rejoice or Delight)
Corin became Kali (Goddess of Time and Death)
Each spiritual name truly suited each person.
I was one of the last. I looked down at the card and read “Shanti”.
Though I knew its meaning and significance, my internal reaction was,“What?
Me?
Peace?
But, I’m a warrior, a fighter, a defender.
What just happened?”
From my peers I heard, “Oooooo, that’s so perfect!” I, on the other hand, was quite confused.
My higher self said, “They see something in you that reflects this. Try it on for a while. Let’s see how it feels.” I decided to trust there was a part of me that could embody the name of Shanti. I thought, “Ok, I’ll give it a go.”
When I was a child, I remember being fascinated with people and being happy just being present with them. But, I soon learned that people required reactions so they could feel engaged and satisfied. It was one of my earliest conditionings: be who they expect you to be.
For the most part, my early childhood was balanced enough in the home. There was a strong family presence and interaction, good food, fun times. But that all shifted when my parent’s relationship began to dissolve. The home then had an underlying sense of tension and anger. As such, I integrated those tones into my own language because it became what I knew. It was a way to cope.
When my dad eventually moved out, I was eleven years old. The separation no doubt had been coming, but no one told me it was actually happening. I found out after the fact and was devastated. My dad was the cornerstone of my family and in just one moment - seemly so - my family had broken apart. As I lay crumbled on the couch, sobbing my mother cooly said, “The agreement was for your dad to tell your sister and I would tell you. I just never got around to it”. That was a knife through my heart.
I suspect my mother’s intention was to have me be angry with my dad so I would be on “her side”. From then on my mother did her best to get my sister and I to turn against our dad by listing all the ways he hurt her and disappointed her. I stopped trusting my mom emotionally.
At that time, my sister went away to college and she was my last cornerstone. I felt alone. And in many ways I was. I would get blasted with hurtful words from my mother. It makes sense now, because there was no one else left for my mother to divulge her angst against.
A few years later, over dinner with my dad one evening, I was venting about my mom when he cut me short, “Don’t ever talk about your mother like that.” I was stunned. The tangled words in my mouth were, “But that’s the way she talks about you.” My dad went onto say, “You always have a chip on your shoulder.”
My silent reaction, “No shit.”
My error in talking about my mother to my father the way I had, was due to the misimpression that he and I were on the same team. The seething and spats of anger my mom had hurled at my father towards the end and been transposed onto me since I was the “last one standing”. I wanted to say to him, “Hey, I understand what you went through too. Can you please try to understand what I’m going through now?”
There was no one in my family to emotionally rely on, so I became more than angry and anger became my identity. It was a shield that showed strength and resilience and hid just how afraid, sad and alone I truly felt.
That anger fueled and pummeled me all the way up into my early 30’s. The veil was so thick that I couldn’t see how I took a lot out upon myself. I couldn’t see how that was call for help.
No one ever bothered to ask me what I was angry about because no one wanted to know the truth; the truth was uncomfortable. Instead, I received much criticism for my behavior without a true inquisition as to the root of it. And the truth about being an angry girl is that it is considered unbecoming. It’s not polite; be nice. You’re supposed to be grateful and not selfish. So, I decided to own my anger and have it fuel my personality and identity. I chose to be a warrior. (Yama)
One has to be willing to look deep within and be a witness to all of the thyself: every impactful experience (painful or joyous), past or present, to truly feel and and fully understand oneself. From self-understanding, can come self-compassion and love. Self love and compassion, self understanding and appreciation are immensely healing for everyone. (Niyama)
My path to self healing began with my practice of yoga. My mat became my sanctuary. I could show up with my sadness and grief and leave my tears on the mat. Repressed emotions were unlocked and moved out of me, liberating me to breathe and just be. Within those four corners was a safe space to unlock, unleash and release. Little by little, I stripped off my armor.
It now makes perfect sense that it was during my early years of yoga is when I recognized I could channel. There had been such a healing physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. The doors unlocked, the veil lifted.
So, come the year I received the name Shanti, while I was not used to hearing about myself or feeling that way within myself, but had already begun the journey. Years before, the transition I had begun of me coming into my personal peace. I believe that when I completed my yoga teacher training, my light was as bright and authentic as it had ever been. What my teachers and peers saw in me was a path I was already on. My path still continues.
I still have my triggers. Of course I do, I am human. But each time something surfaces the conscious effort to process it gets a bit smaller, the duration shorter and the peace comes sooner. I now understand that I have the freedom to choose how I want to be in the world and certainly what I do not have to be. I don’t have to carry on the torch of anger.
In a training last year, a peer said, “When I heard your name was Shanti and I looked at you and thought your spiritual name made perfect sense.” I smiled and said, “Thank you.”
If for just one moment someone can feel a sense of self love and appreciation - then that’s the moment when they connect with their inner light. That is peace. That is the magic. And that is my hope with everyone I work with - that I can help them sink in to their Sense of Self and remember the essence of who they are. (Pratyahara)
I will continue to cultivate my own sense of inner peace, because I know what it feels like to live without it. Each day, I am becoming Shanti.