Falling

by Linn B. Halton

  The word “Gayatri” itself explains the reason for the existence of this mantra. It has its origin in the Sanskrit phrase Gayantam Triyate iti and refers to that mantra which rescues the chanter from all adverse situations that may lead to mortality. It sounded amazing, but then I saw a video of a group actually chanting. Was I out of my depth? How could I sit in a circle and chant with a group of total strangers? What if it didn’t do anything for me or this wasn’t something I was supposed to be involved with?

  However, it was too late to change my mind and although I believe everything happens for a reason, I was really beginning to feel way out of my comfort zone.

  ***

  Today I might have saved someone from committing suicide. I was on my way back from a job interview and found myself taking a short-cut through the park. There was a young guy slumped on a bench and I thought at first he was drunk. I started to veer away from the path and walk in a wide circle, rather than passing by within reach of him. Something kept trying to pull me back on course and then the ankle strap on my left shoe snapped without warning. I had no choice but to sit down and forage through my bag for a temporary fix, or risk tripping myself up.

  I said nothing, simply sat down at the far end of the bench and plunged my hand into my bag. I was hoping to find something I could tie around my foot to keep my shoe on. I pulled out a handful of loose items, including some ribbon that wasn’t long enough and then found a rather sturdy, stretchy hair band. Fortunately it was a black one and wouldn’t look too bad. Two minutes and I was done, able to walk again with the confidence that at least I would be able to make it home. I was about to get up and leave, when my eyes were drawn to the young man and I realised something was very wrong.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, tentatively. He remained slumped. I reached out and touched his arm, but there was no reaction at all. I dropped my bag and walked over to him, his chin was resting on his chest and his arms were folded. Then I saw the needle on the ground next to the bench. I grabbed my mobile out of my bag and dialled with shaking hands.

  “Can you send an ambulance immediately? A young man has collapsed on a bench and there’s a needle on the ground next to him. I think he might have overdosed. Please hurry!” I described where we were and I kept checking my watch, counting the minutes that seemed to pass so slowly. Then, finally I could hear the ambulance siren. A convoy of two vehicles headed across the grass and I jumped up, waving my arms in the air to attract attention. The paramedic car, being lighter, was first to arrive while the ambulance struggled over the grassy bank that sloped down to the path.

  The young man’s pulse was weak. They worked on him for twenty minutes before he was stable enough to be lifted onto the stretcher and moved to the ambulance.

  I thanked them and picked up my bag to leave. “You saved his life, Miss,” the paramedic said.

  “I hope so,” I replied and walked away, willing him to hold onto his life. Everyone deserves a second chance and maybe sometimes you have to fly very close to the edge to realise how precious life is.

  As I walked home a fleeting thought passed through my mind. Could I have taken my own life when I was at my lowest point? Or would the universe have stopped me in time because that wasn’t my fate? I knew nothing at all about the young man, but for whatever reason someone out there was watching over him today.

  Chapter Fifteen – The Circle

  I suppose I was expecting a smart venue for Mark Kessler’s Gayatri mantra session. I walk past the building twice before thinking about going inside. The hall is rather neglected and unprepossessing, with paint peeling off the window frames. Moving closer I notice there is a hand-written sign on the door ‘Workshop attendees – use this entrance’. It seems superfluous as I can’t see another way of gaining entry.

  Inside it’s much larger and brighter than I expect. There’s a low buzz of voices coming from the far end of the room. Everyone is standing around an island, helping themselves to tea and coffee. People are introducing themselves and it seems most have come on their own, which makes me feel a bit better. I refuse the offer of a hot or cold drink and stand there feeling slightly self-conscious. I smile, listening in on the edge of conversations that are little more than pleasantries. I do a headcount and there are eighteen of us in total. There is a mixture of all ages, from a young woman who looks like she’s in her early twenties, to a guy in his sixties. Now I’m wishing I had said no. The group is too small and I’m going to find it difficult, if not impossible, to relax and be myself. Every single person is going to be visible in what they do. There’s no hiding away in the crowd.

  “Hi everyone,” Mark’s voice travels towards us as he walks through the door. Someone else follows him in and they are both carrying boxes. “Welcome! This is Steven, he’s going to keep the refreshments coming throughout the workshop and generally make himself useful.”

  Steven puts down the box he’s carrying on the counter top and smiles. “I’m the general dogsbody really,” he says, good-naturedly.

  “Okay, if everyone can grab a chair and bring it into the centre of the hall, I’ll explain what we’re hoping to achieve today.”

  It’s a fairly large circle, but it still feels like we are merely a blemish in the middle of the space. I realise that the ceiling height of the room is what makes the proportions even more pronounced. The high, vaulted ceiling probably has the effect of doubling the size of the room and every little sound seems to reverberate. Steven is at the far end of the room clearing away the cups and he drops something, shattering the silence. “Sorry guys! I’ll be finished shortly.”

  Mark gives the person next to him a pile of A4 sheets and tells him to take one and pass them on. Everyone stops fidgeting and talking, all heads bowed while we read the information on the sheet.

  The mantra is short but the words seem difficult to remember. My stomach begins to feel a little queasy. This is too weird for me. I look nervously at the door. Would it be such a long walk if I made a plausible excuse and left quickly? It’s probably fifty paces. I continue reading.

  The Mantra:

  Aum

  Bhuh Bhuvah Svah

  Tat Savitur Varenyam

  Bhargo Devasya Dheemahi

  Dhiyo Yo nah Prachodayat

  Santhi (repeat three times = peace to your mind, body and soul)

  The Purpose:

  The Gayatri mantra is one of the oldest and most powerful of Sanskrit mantras. It is believed that by chanting the Gayatri mantra and firmly establishing it in the mind, if you carry on your life and do the work that is ordained for you, your life will be full of happiness. Gayatri is a treasure you must guard throughout your lives and the mantra unifies the mind, body and soul.

  There are three deities - Gayatri, Saraswathi and Savitri. The first one is master of the sense, the second is master of speech and the third one is the teacher of truth. It is, therefore, a Trinity of the senses. The words unify the mind, body and soul and ask the Divine to remove the veil of darkness and open our minds to knowledge. The Gayatri is considered to be the essence of the Vedas. Veda means knowledge and the mantra is a gift to help us all, like a third eye revealing the inner vision. It protects us from harm wherever we are and followers will recite the Gayatri mantra at least three times each day. The purpose is to try to counteract the wrong doings that happen throughout the day and the belief is that it atones for each day’s actions. Chanting will light your path and those who find themselves here today are here for a reason. It is a part of your onward spiritual journey.

  When you pronounce AUM:

  A - emerges from the throat, originating in the region of the navel

  U - rolls over the tongue

  M - ends on the lips

  A - waking, U - dreaming, M - sleeping

  “Okay. This is simply a session to demonstrate the power of the mantra. For those of you who are already meditating, that is also going to be a part of the workshop today. We are going to try to build our voices into one and in d
oing so, open ourselves up to what the universe has to offer. I have several hand-outs for you to take away, but I suggest we make a start. This is something that has to be experienced rather than taught,” Mark enforces his words by clenching his fist and tapping his chest, “in here.”

  He can obviously see a few of us are uncomfortable and there is an exchange of nervous eye contact.

  “Right.” Mark’s voice is reassuring and no one moves. I feel glued to my seat and while my legs want to walk, I know that I won’t be going anywhere. “We will practice repeating the words. I will use my voice to speak the mantra three times, on my own, so that you can all hear the tone and intonation. If you haven’t done this before you might feel a little uncomfortable at first. The acoustics in the hall will amplify the sound, but that’s the whole point of using this venue. If you are happy to trust me, people, then I’ll begin.”

  He closes his eyes, adjusting his body position. Both feet are firmly on the floor, his posture is relaxed. His arms lie loosely on his lap, palms facing upwards with the thumb and little finger on each hand touching. All eyes are on him as he visibly relaxes his shoulders and takes three deep breaths. The sound of ‘aum’ is startling. It shatters the silence and he draws out the syllables, increasing the volume and sending a resonating echo around the hall. It is, quite simply, beautiful. There isn’t any other way of describing it. Each delivery of the mantra is slow and purposeful, his voice gaining strength with each repetition. He ends with the word ‘santhi,’ saying it three times in succession. He remains still with his eyes closed for a few minutes and then opens them, smiling.

  “Easy,” he states. It’s probably one of the strangest things many here will ever witness and yet Mark manages to make it feel quite natural. “Now we’ll all repeat the same process together.”

  He explains everything in detail before we start. The importance of our posture, feeling relaxed and closing our eyes so we are not distracted. He tells us we will very quickly forget our own voices and the sound will come from within. The first run through is awkward, I find myself trying to suppress nervous laughter. Some of the group are struggling to find the right key and it sounds a little flat. It’s rather uncoordinated at first, but by the end of the third repetition it begins to flow more easily. Most of us have to keep our eyes open and glued to the printed words, but Mark explains that as we gather pace we’ll be able to repeat it from memory.

  We are going to do thirty repetitions and then he will lead us through a meditation. We will remain sitting in our circle and be invited to share our thoughts. The process will then be repeated all over again. The first meditation will take us into a forest; the second will be a beach scene. He asks if anyone has any questions. Only one voice breaks the silence.

  “I’ve only recently begun meditating at home. I’m following your tutorial and with each meditation something different happens. It’s very personal and I’m nervous about sharing. I don’t want people to think I’m being negative. I also don’t want to spoil it for everyone else.” The woman speaking is middle-aged; she’s smartly dressed and conservative. Out of all of the people in the group, she’s the one I least expected to express her feelings. She has a guarded look about her. Then I wonder if that’s a haunted look. I guess we are all seeking something and there is a reason why each of us is here today.

  “Celia, only share your feelings if you are comfortable to do so. Some people have no-one else with whom they can meaningfully talk through what happens here. The Gayatri mantra is powerful and often the meditations that follow are quite intense. The process will allow you to relax in a way that you might not have been able to achieve so far. No one need feel uncomfortable, but if you are moved to share an experience you can do so knowing you are amongst like-minded friends. I think we are ready to begin.”

  ***

  As I hurry out into the warm sunshine, the light breeze is cool on my face. I feel at peace. A dull ache begins at the back of my head, causing me to wince with the movement of each step I take. The intensity of the experience has left me feeling curiously invigorated, yet drained. I lean forward to open the latch on the gate, when I hear a voice behind me.

  “Ceri, Ceri – wait a second,” Mark runs towards me.

  “Sorry, I’m running late,” I say, feeling bad that I left the moment the session ended.

  “You felt it, didn’t you?” He looks at me expectantly.

  “What?”

  “That sense of being at one with the universe. Your journey has begun Ceri, everything happens for a reason. There’s no turning back now, it’s an awakening that few experience.” He reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. He emanates a sense of achievement and positivity that is infectious.

  “Yes,” I admit, “I felt it.”

  “Then we’ll meet again,” his eyes lock with mine for a brief moment and I smile in acknowledgement.

  He was right; the experience had touched a part of me that was buried away, deep inside. Like a key turning in a lock and suddenly revealing something unexpected. There was no sense of recognition or familiarity, and no link to the physical me. I soared above my body, carried on the vibration that filled the room, as if it truly were a pathway opening up. It took me back to where that hidden part of me longed to be. I had come home spiritually.

  I make my way slowly back to the car. That last meditation is still with me. A hand took mine, leading me on along a path from the beach, up a steep incline that levelled out into a meadow. Someone lifted me in their arms, twirling me around in a pleasant and joyful way. Suddenly I could see everything with a clarity that didn’t exist before. I can’t explain what I saw. It was more a series of moments flashing by, but it was the range of emotions that accompanied the experience that stays with me – happiness, love, compassion. I’m not sure what happened today, but what began as a faltering group of voices, to my astonishment ended up being one voice in unison. I was a part of something positive that went out to the universe. A sense of fulfilment flooded back through me when a connection was made. For a short time I was no longer the Ceri I knew, but the one I wasn’t meant to see.

  Chapter Sixteen – Reconnecting

  The knock on the door is insistent, urgent even. I turn off the TV and my heart starts to beat faster. Then I hear Alex’s voice and the banging turns into frantic hammering. I’m not afraid, but I’m fearful of what he’s going to say. The door swings open and he stands there, running his hand through his hair.

  “Thank you. Thank you for opening the door and I’m sorry for nearly bashing it down. Can I come in?”

  I stand back. Seeing him is a shock and my heart performs a somersault. He looks tired and his hair needs cutting, which is unusual for Alex. Normally his appearance is perfect.

  “Are you in trouble?” I ask and my voice is hesitant. “Come in. Do you need a drink? Coffee or something stronger?”

  “Do you have any whisky?”

  “I’ll see what I can find.” I walk into the kitchen and find a bottle of Southern Comfort. I set up two glasses with ice and pour a slug into each. I turn, surprised to find Alex is standing very close behind me. Close enough for my hair to touch his face with the movement.

  “Cheers,” I hold a glass up to him and then we toast in silence.

  I’m still in shock that it’s him and he’s really here. A part of me doubted I would ever see him again. I’m not expecting a string of apologetic words to tumble out of his mouth, but I’m worried he’s agitated because he’s angry with me for running away. Has he come to vent that anger? I suppose he would be justified, but what would be the point?

  We walk into the living room and I sit down, expecting him to do the same, but he remains standing. He begins pacing back and forward in front of me, then knocks back his drink in three large gulps. The ice hasn’t even had a chance to melt. I offer him mine and he takes it, gladly.

  “Alex, you need to sit down and try to calm yourself. I’m going back into the kitchen to make some strong coffee. I’ll be
gone just a couple of minutes. Okay?”

  He nods and as I stand up, he sits down.

  It takes ten minutes of awkward silence before he settles. The coffee seems to work and the caffeine kicks in, relaxing him.

  “I’m sorry Ceri. I don’t mean to scare you, really. This isn’t about what happened between us, this is something else. Well, no actually, it’s probably all linked but I can’t talk about what went on right now. I’ll only say that it wasn’t what you thought it was and I can only hope you’ll accept that for the moment and listen to what I have to say.

  “I don’t care how this looks and I can’t listen to – or argue – with you. This is too important. There’s someone you have to meet. Don’t do it for me, do it for you. He can help you make some sense of everything that has happened and that will happen in the future. It will blow your mind, but you have to hear it first-hand. You would never believe me if I simply repeated it to you. Grab your coat now, because I’m not prepared to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

  I’m beginning to wish that I downed the alcohol and wonder whether Alex is having some sort of mental breakdown. He is calmer now, but he’s very anxious and he’s watching me, no doubt wondering if I’ll simply throw him out.

  “Look Alex, can this wait? I’m not sure I feel comfortable—”

  “Ceri, I’ve never asked you to do anything for me in the two-plus years we’ve known each other. I don’t ask for favours. I’m asking for one now.”

  “Okay, I’ll grab my coat.”

  ***

  “Ceri, this is Ethan Morris. He’s a… umm, medium and he advises people on spiritual stuff, amongst other things. Sorry Ethan, it’s a lot to remember,” Alex looks embarrassed as Ethan steps forward to shake hands.

  “Hi Ethan, nice to meet you.” His hand is warm, his handshake firm.

  “He writes books too, forgot to say that,” Alex adds.

  “I know, I’ve read one of them,” I admit.

  “And what did you think?” Ethan asks, pointedly.

  “Do you want the truth?”