Monkeys, Mantras & Mind Control
I once heard the definition of mantras explained as ‘mind-mapping’. This resonates with me, for this is what they do for me: they guide me to places in my mind that I have an inkling that I wish to go, important places, places of greater wellbeing, for which at the time the pathway can be just out of reach. It’s an adjustment of perspective and experience, away from my monkey mind (no offence intended monkeys who might be reading this). They lead me back to my core self, the divine within. Mantras are particularly useful when I’m lost in my mind and experience of the world, and I'm away from my spiritual centre. It is then that I need a prompt, or a map, back to where I want to be, to where the voice of my developed spirituality quietly nudges me. Words can do this for me.
‘Don’t feeding the monkeys’ says the sign on a mountain top road somewhere between Lovina Beach and Ubud, Bali. Although the Google translation of the Bahasa Indonesian words on the sign read: ‘Don't Give Monkey Food’. I prefer the former. Regardless, as soon as I saw it I automatically read ‘Don’t feed the monkey mind’. Probably because of my thought stream just prior about oneness and mantras while riding my motorbike in this wild and wondrous part of the world.
I find it useful to broaden the meaning and function of mantras from just an intentional incantation to also states of mind in how I read the world, within and around me. Signs and guides can come from anywhere when I am in an open, clear and connected mind (or divine mind). Which is a conscientious and conscious practice for me, a continual returning to.
I keep being drawn back to the island of Bali and I’m not exactly, rationally, sure why. Although I have my suspicions. For, there are many things about the island that I find challenging and off-putting, such as: the omnipresent pollution, the intensity of tourists (I know, I know, I see the irony), the often chaotic busyness in certain parts, the sometimes relentless in-person street spamming (by no doubt well meaning locals), the relative wealth guilt I can experience as a result of the currency exchange, and lastly the feeling like I’m intruding on another's space or contributing towards a problem rather than helping.
But there is something unique and special about the land of Bali for me (and I suspect others, whether consciously aware or not)—and by land, I mean the interplay of the actual physical land, the wildlife, the people, the more relative animist and interconnected culture and the essence that ties them all together: the energetic or spiritual matrix. Something happens to my awareness when I come here that is different to when I am on my home terrain or in other countries. I am more and more keenly aware, with each trip here, that I become ‘oneness conscious’ when in Bali. That is, I am more likely to experience and contemplate the oneness and interconnectedness of all things (incidentally this ‘oneness consciousness’ is one of those mantras of mine). It’s not a new concept to me, but it comes alive here in me more than anywhere else. And I am not sure why this isn’t inspired in the same way in other places I have spent time. It is not anything overtly communicated, I am fairly sure. I don’t think I’ve been cognitively primed. I believe it is the environmental influence. And when I am 'oneness conscious' I am a better version of myself, for I am then more conscious of other as well as of self and my environment. Maybe every land and people dyad create their own unique energetic matrices that shape or influence those in proximity.
According to Gestalt psychology, environmental influence is understood as a holistic experience, meaning that our perception of the environment is not simply the sum of its parts, but rather a unified whole shaped by our interpretations, needs, and how we organise sensory information within the context of our surroundings, emphasising the interaction between the individual and their environment as a dynamic field. In other words, we are not islands; we are not contained and isolated units disconnected and separate from the space we share with others, with things and with forces. No matter how Zen Buddhist-detached I might think I am, I am always in relationship with and being impacted by my surroundings.
I get a sense that because of the spiritual and cultural beliefs and practices of a critical mass of Balinese people, together with their relative harmony with the land and its fecundity and potency, something energetic flows in the ether that one can’t escape, despite the myriad of...well, less uplifting...influences also present here. It’s as though when I arrive and spend time here I enter a matrix of divine energy. When I am spiritually open enough to be influenced by it, that is.
Part of this matrix is definitely the people (and of course it’s not going to ever be all the people all the time, but generally speaking). I admire and appreciate the way they invite daily the spiritual into their consciousness, by their seemingly endless rituals and dedications to deity and temple. Their material engagement with their cultural-religious beliefs appear to manifest a continual flow of spirit or god and other consciousness (the god or divine in all things). "'There is nowhere [the Tao] is not... There is not a single thing without Tao', wrote the fourth-century B.C.E. Chinese philosopher Chuang-Tze."
Balinese religious practices are ‘mantra in action’. But the first and most easily discernible of Balinese’ special qualities are their smiles. Their smiles often arrive at my being like blessings. When they smile directly at you it can feel almost like they are making love to you. Or in love with you. Or love the essence of you. It’s as though what is being smiled is their spiritual energy. Sometimes their smiles seem outright seductive. And sure, sometimes it feels manipulative. And very rarely it can even appear menacing. This could all be more about where my head and heart might be at, at the time, or it could be a combination of both forces. I’m not sure. Nevertheless, the Bali smile is more often than not intoxicating to me in a beautiful way and encourages my smile to more quickly and readily precede me. And the wonder is especially evident and potent when you observe one Balinese smiling at one another. I dare you to not be touched and moved by it.
What is my home country of Australia’s energy matrix largely made of I wonder? And other nations? Or other groups of people? What are our central focuses of attention? Where do our values lie? Is it hyper-individualism, -consumerism, -materialism, -accumulatism? Of course, those isms apply here in Bali too, but to a significantly lesser extent. However, the Balinese also have the moderating and reorienting force of a collective spiritual or religious practice that seems to thread through all aspects of life on the island. What seems missing in my country is that shared universal collective spiritual matrix.
And then what are our individual focuses of attention? If I watch Married at First Sight or A Current Affair on a regular basis, for example, I’ll think about and be more conscious from the values coded and embedded into the content of those shows. If I surround myself with people who are often negative or critical, it is going to impact my energy and shape how I experience myself and my world. If I stay in a relationship that I might sense deep down is continually and unreasonably harmful to me then my world will be shaped thusly. I am what I eat (or consume or absorb). What I read, listen to, watch, expose myself to environmentally, what I repeatedly tell myself or allow others to repeatedly tell me, shapes my experience of myself and my world, and ultimately shapes me.
Of course, sometimes our choices are limited with regard to some of our environmental influences. And so we may have to be more proactive in assuaging those energy matrices with neutralising remedies, such as spending more time engaging in well-being activities or therapy, etcetera.
By being in Bali’s particular combination of material and spiritual matrices, I am shaped and steered in kind (just like when back in Australia and my home and workplace etcetera). And that goes for both the enlightening as well as the burdening qualities of Bali. But I suspect the spiritual energy trumps the material, in my experience anyhow. And when I am spiritually open myself, of course.
It seems that, when I am open and connected to my core and in my flow, I am better able to read the world and hear the messages I need to hear to keep me in good stead.
Like the caterpillars that have been presenting themselves to me on this most recent trip to Bali, initially on my first few days here and then intermittently, seemingly at just the right moments. My attention kept being captured to the sight of caterpillars and on regular intervals and so I thought to Google their meaning (I know, I know…but stay with me). According to my Google Oracle on that particular day the symbolisms to be aware of were: transformation, change and growth are underway; be adaptive; trust the process; and be patient. The caterpillars seemed to appear in front of me just when I needed reminding of these principles. Particularly to be patient with my current experience of growing pains in relation to an important transformation process I have been in. Or with things outside of my control that might cause me frustration or loss of peace.
Another example might be, when a car pushes its way in front of me as I cross the road, I can become righteous and angry (from a place of fear), or I can instead choose to search for my meaning in this from my spiritual centre. Which could be to refocus on what’s important and be more present rather than drifting off in my wandering mind. If I feel unfairly treated by another or others or a system, for example, I can do the same. It’s not a message or meaning about them or the system that I am seeking, but about my mindset. And I’m not necessarily saying there’s an inherent message or meaning that comes from outside of me (although stranger things happen all the time), but there is always meaning to be potentially made within me. Or not. I get to choose. And I get to choose the tone and shape of the meaning. This is part of the way of radical responsibility that I choose to attempt to follow. I alone am accountable for making meaning of my existence and all of its minutia.
I get that this might seem a bit woo woo or magical thinking, about the caterpillar guidance and other energy awareness for instance, but it's a good system, for me, to guide me back to the path I want to be on and to my spiritual centre. I like the idea that everything, every encounter I engage with consciously, is a potential Rorschach test.
I believe the whole world is a series of infinite possible Rorschach tests—potential reflections of myself— when I approach things and phenomena with intentional awareness. For example, when I noticed the caterpillars' repeat visitations, because I sought meaning from what was essentially a generally commonplace occurrence, they reflected back to me insight of my inner world and served as a reminder of my therapeutic and spiritual path. Simply because I actively chose to use the outside world as a mirror for my often just out of reach inner world, not because things or others are inherently meaningful or divine messengers (not that I’ve got evidence for anyhow, but wouldn’t that be a wonderful thing…). The quote “We don't see the world as it is, but as we are”, attributed to Anaïs Nin (however some believe she was paraphrasing Immanuel Kant), speaks a truth that resonates with me. That the mindset I am in, whether by conscious choice or when I’m in automaton or reactive mode, is how I will experience the world…or more accurately, my world. Which is the only world I can truly know.
I alone as an adult am responsible for my experience of the world, ultimately. This is also a mantra of mine. Of course, it’s not always easy to do or is even possible. But it is an idealised path I want to continue to be redirected to, to journey on, to return to...again and again and again. It often takes strange and sometimes convoluted paths for me to get to the places I need to be, that are hinted at when I am spiritually engaged with myself. Sometimes they require me to visit other lands, other influences, other perspectives, other mindsets. And I need to continually monitor and be conscious of what I am allowing to influence and shape my mind, the most important resource I have and the mediator of my state of being and reality.
