At the root of all power and motion, there is music and rhythm, the play of patterned frequencies against the matrix of time. Before we make music, music makes us.
—George Leonard1
“Nada Yoga” is the classical term for the Yoga of Sound in the Hindu tradition. It is a stream of sacred sound that embraces Hatha Yoga, the occult linguistics of Tantra, and the spirituality of classical Indian music. By including the nonlinguistic element of music, Nada Brahman augments the Shabda Brahman of the Vedic tradition, as well as the differentiation of energy in the chakras discovered by the Tantrics. While Bhava Yoga chooses only those frequencies that we classify as music in our earthly appreciation of sound, Nada yogis incorporate the full spectrum of frequencies — both those that are audible to the human ear and those that are inaudible — within the field of their yoga practice. This means that all forms of earthly music, the sounds of space, and even the entire electromagnetic spectrum of frequencies are included within this range of perception.
Human hearing lies in the range of between sixteen and twenty thousand hertz. “Frequency” refers to the number of wave cycles that occur in one second, giving rise to the experience of high and low tones. Wavelength gets longer as the frequency (or pitch) decreases. Although we may not “hear” all the frequencies that exist in our universe, we are affected by these waves at every moment, and we in turn affect these frequencies by our own sounds and activities.
What are the sounds of space? Throughout space, we find sounds emitted by such phenomena as the hum of planets, the gaseous states of the sun, and pulsating rhythms from the stars. Often, these sounds are similar to our earthly music. Phil Uttley and Ian McHardy of the University of Southampton, who have been studying the music of black holes in space, state: “If you were to transcribe the X-ray output of these black holes as a series of musical notes, it would not sound quite like any [particular] sort of music . . . but the ‘tune’ [would] still have a musical quality about it. The general pattern of note changes — the relative size of the changes in pitch from one note to the next, or from one bar to the next — are the same as one hears in all kinds of music.” Uttley also claims that the music of a black hole could be called improvisational. The study further revealed that, at any given moment, various black holes are playing different styles of music — and every few weeks, a stellar black hole switches musical styles, undergoing a distinct transition from one pattern of variability to another.2
As mentioned earlier, the tradition of Nada Yoga does not specialize in the mantra shastras of the other streams. For instance, it doesn’t deal with rituals governing mantras or their pronunciation, mystical meanings, or embodiment of energy. However, Nada Yoga does bring together all the key elements and cosmogonies of sacred sound that are explored in those streams, including the devotional element of Bhava, represented in Nada Yoga by the tradition of Indian classical music. In the first millennium B.C., Nada yogis focused extensively on the mantra Om, which Patanjali’s classic Yoga Sutras teach is the “sound that expresses the Divine Absolute,” which should be “repeatedly intoned while absorbing its meaning.”3 In chapter fourteen, we will explore this unitive capacity of the sacred syllable Om, which summarizes all mantric knowledge. Since the Middle Ages, Nada yogis proficient in music have combined India’s rapidly evolving musical system with the sonic cosmology and philosophy of Tantra and the Vedas. But it is only in the past few centuries that the strongest connections between music and Nada Yoga have been established.
Interestingly, despite the fact that “Nada Yoga” is the classical term for the Yoga of Sound, and despite many contemporary Indian musicians using the term “Nada Yoga” to describe the profound spiritual significance of their musical disciplines, Nada Yoga as a well-defined practice is perhaps the least documented of all the streams of sacred sound. There are references to Nada Yoga practices in a number of scriptures, which I will soon address, but the approach is not as organized or synthesized as that of Hatha Yoga. Many musicians and yogis in the West casually refer to sacred sound in yoga as “Nada Yoga” without realizing that the term does not deal effectively with the phonetic subtleties of mantra. It is precisely for this reason that I prefer to use the term “Yoga of Sound” to refer to the full scope of sacred sound and its evolution in yoga. What is specific to Nada Yoga, and where we will find its unique benefits, is its understanding of the process of meditation using sound as its essential medium.
AS A TRADITION, Nada Yoga originates with the codification of the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali in the second century and closely parallels the development of Hatha Yoga. References to the use of sound in Hatha Yoga and Raja Yoga practice are found in texts such as the Nada-Bindu Upanishad, attached to the Rg Veda, and the Hatha Yoga Pradipika,* a compendium of mystical writings held particularly sacred by Hatha yogis. These references essentially involve the use of the mantra Om in conjunction with focused listening techniques and audible breathing practices, which we will explore.
The word “nada” means “a loud sounding or droning or rushing,” and it can refer to any sound, whether linguistic or nonlinguistic. Although Nada Yoga does not deal with the particularities of mantra shastra present in other streams of sacred sound, it is like the underlying current present in all those streams, carrying them toward the great ocean of consciousness. Musicologist Joachim-Ernst Berendt points out that the names of many rivers around the world are based on the word “nada.” The Norwegian Nid, the German Nidda, and the Polish Nida are just a few examples. Because of its etymological associations,“nada” is best translated as “currents of sound” that exist in the human body and in the universe. Nada Yoga offers an internal experience of sound frequencies by means of meditation, induced by the external sound of vocal and instrumental music. In other words, when entertainment leads to “innertainment,” music becomes yoga.
Nada Yoga’s feminine qualities — being a fluid, interior, sensual practice — complement the more rigid Shabda Yoga. Attunement is a primary aspect of Nada Yoga; the flowing currents in our body — especially our emotions — can be adjusted to the frequencies and tones used by the practitioner. This is why the ascent and descent of the voice or musical instrument on a musical scale — DO, RE, MI, FA, SO, LA, TI, DO — is a Nada Yoga practice. Ascending the musical scale (ascending in pitch) harmonically configures our emotions and channels them toward Divine union, which is considered to be a higher and more rapid vibratory frequency.
There is yet to be a thorough study of Nada Yoga, but great credit should be given to musicologist Guy L. Beck, who has collected an excellent summary of esoteric texts in his seminal work Sonic Theology,4 which I reference in this and other chapters.
THE COSMOLOGY of Nada Yoga embraces the notion that the primary stuff of the universe is vibratory, and therefore sonic in nature. Modern physics supports this understanding, especially via the new field of string theory, which claims that the entire universe may be made up of infinitesimally small subatomic strands of energy vibrating at different frequencies. These cosmologies all recognize that the shapes we see in nature are constructed of vibrating entities, each with a different frequency and wavelength. The speed at which an object vibrates (as well as its size, however infinitesimal) contributes to its particular sound. I mentioned earlier that solid objects vibrate relatively slowly, while gaseous substances vibrate more rapidly. Thus, the tones and frequencies that comprise the known universe become the subject of meditation in Nada Yoga. This science of Nada Yoga, which also takes into consideration the musical intervals used in music and in the musical recitation of mantras, is brought together with meditation techniques and certain Hatha Yoga practices that are conducive to sonic exploration.
Nada Yoga involves a deep listening to the body, to its inner sounds and acoustics. Nada Yoga also includes listening deeply to the music of the natural world. We can perceive a lot of sound-based creative activity in nature, such as the mating calls of birds and the amazingly complex and sonorous whale song. Such listening reveals the vast spectrum of consciousness, which manifests in a wide range of distinct frequencies during meditation. Our musical systems across the globe — the varied senses of harmony, melody, and rhythm — are all selections from this vast range of frequencies. But to choose only a portion of these frequencies narrows us to restricted cultural boundaries. Jean Houston explains, “Every person has a different tonality and is made up of different sonar frequencies. That is why we prefer different things and are so radically different from and to each other. We must not impose, as let’s say a Wagnerian derived music, a limitation of mind through a sonar imprisonment of people. This politicizing of brain function through various kinds of sounds and forms is not only what happened in Germany, but also occurs whenever and wherever totalitarian states and dictators prevail.”5
The practice of Nada Yoga can help broaden the consciousness of an audience. For instance, the Western ear, trained and conditioned by tempered intervals, came to perceive other music as inferior or out of tune; only in recent years, with the rapid surge of world music, have ethnic sounds, non-Western musical intervals, variable instrument tunings, and diverse musical scales “enlarged” the Western ear. The power of cultivating a larger ear has never been more necessary than it is now; it will result in a proportionately larger heart, facilitating an authentic acceptance of other cultures and their vibrations.
MANY TREATISES on the practice of Nada Yoga describe various stages of listening to the body via the right ear. For instance, the Nada-Bindu Upanishad describes a process of yogic meditation in which the aspirant listens to eleven different internal sounds with successive degrees of subtlety:
The yogis should always listen to the sound [nada] in the interior of the right ear. This sound, when constantly practiced, will drown every external sound [dhvani] from the outside. . . . By persisting . . . the sound will be heard subtler and subtler. At first, it will be like what is produced by the ocean, the cloud, the kettledrum, and the waterfall. . . . A little later it will be like the sound produced by a small drum, a big bell, and a military drum; and finally like the sound of a tinkling bell, the bamboo flute, the harp, and the bee.6
The point of the exercise is to keep the yogi listening, because as we get closer to the inner experience of sound in our body, the sound starts to change. Another scripture, the Darsana Upanishad, describes the perception of sounds in the highest position or chakra in the body, referred to here as the Brahma-randa, located at the crown of the head.
When air [prana] enters the Brahma-randa, nada [sound] is also produced there, resembling at first the sound of a conch-blast and then like the thunder-clap in the middle; and when the air has reached the middle of the head, like the roaring of a mountain cataract. Thereafter, O great wise one! The Atman [indwelling Divine Presence], mightily pleased, will actually appear in front of thee. Then there will be the ripeness of the knowledge of the Spirit from yoga and the disowning by the yogi of worldly existence.7
While many of these passages seem esoteric, or even fanciful on occasion, they all point to a sonic universe that reveals itself to us as we become increasingly attuned to it. About twenty years ago, I read The Prophet,8 by Lebanese mystic Kahlil Gibran; you are no doubt familiar with this extraordinary mystical treatise. I was just beginning to explore the Yoga of Sound at that time, and I was profoundly struck by this statement: “A seeker of silences am I, and what treasure have I found in silences that I may dispense with confidence?” Earlier, he also wrote, “Then the gates of his heart were flung open, and his joy flew far over the sea. And he closed his eyes and prayed in the silences of his soul.” Notice, Gibran does not say silence, which is typical of such writings, but he uses the plural, silences. The difference helps us understand Nada Yoga meditation.
Silence, generally speaking, is the absence of noise. For most of us, living a busy life in the world, “noise” refers to external sounds that we’re not in control of: traffic, generators, the humming of appliances. We take a trip into the countryside to gain some peace and quiet, away from these sounds, where we discover that a remarkable quiet pervades nature. What precisely enables the ear to hear sounds? Physically and biologically, the process is described in terms of sound waves, produced by various oscillating structures, traveling through the medium of air. The ear receives these waves, processes them, and sends them on as impulses to the brain. Just as the ear recognizes individual sounds that register in its field of perception, we also know that it can recognize silence. What is silence? Does it have its own sound?
Mystics of the ancient world perceived all individual sounds as taking place against a background of unheard silence behind the sounds. In Nada Yoga, this background is called anahata nada, meaning the “unstruck sound.” Anahata is the name for the heart chakra in Kundalini or Shakti Yoga. As Nada yogis, we are therefore urged to listen with the “ear of the heart,” a phrase also used in the Benedictine way of monastic life.
What, then, is unstruck sound? The friction of objects generally causes explicit sounds, but the constant backdrop of silence is not a struck sound; it is the “sound of space.” Space is the unseen medium in which we experience the movement of all energy. And silence — the sound of this space — is as vast, pervasive, and indestructible as the space itself. Sounds and vibrations magically arise from and disappear back into it. Quantum physicists call it the field of indeterminate particles, because we cannot predict exactly where particles will show up next. Sufis refer to this silent space as Zat, meaning “the silent life” from which all vibrations arise and into which all vibrations dissolve; an exact parallel to the findings of quantum physicists. Buddhists call this space sunnyata, the void, and Hindus call it Nada Brahman, the soundless sound that is God. When compared to the Shabda Brahman of the Vedas, we can say that Shabda Brahman is the eternal Word that issues forth from the Divine mouth, and Nada Brahman is the eternal music that is sounding in the Divine heart.
Hindu mystics, especially Nada yogis, identify many levels of silence. The first level is the immediate backdrop that makes it possible to hear the sounds we hear. As we begin to listen to this silence, we realize that we can “hear” it only because another backdrop exists behind it. In exploring these unfolding layers of silence, we become, like Gibran, seekers of silences, with each level registering its own unique vibratory signal. Thus we may hear frequencies analogous to kettledrums and ocean waves, thunder and waterfalls.
ONE PRACTICE of interior silences that we shall explore in Nada Yoga is called Brahmari mudra. The term brahmari derives from the bee-like buzzing sound produced by the yogi during this practice, which is performed using a six-way seal of body apertures known as shanmukhi mudra or yoni mudra. This sealing of apertures involves filtering sound by pressing the thumbs against both ear canals, preventing light from entering the two eyes using the index and middle fingers, and blocking air from entering the nostrils using the two ring fingers. Please see appendix four for a detailed description of this practice.
Using sound in yoga practice often means noticing what sound reveals. Mantras and music both reveal something, and this something arises in the stillness and silence that follow the sound. The quiet at the end of a symphony is a good example of the yogic poise produced by the various musical movements. A symphony is like a yoga routine; the essence of the experience is absorbed by the soul at the end of whole performance. Even in Vedic mantras, you will recall that the Veda (shabda) is both sruti and smriti — that which is heard and that which is revealed.
The Shiva Samhita, an ancient yogic treatise, describes a type of brahmari as follows:
Let him [the yogi or yogini] close the ears with his thumbs . . . this is my most beloved yoga. From practicing this gradually, the yogi begins to hear mystic sounds [nadas]. The first is like the hum of the honey-intoxicated bee, next that of a flute, then of a harp; after this, by the gradual practice of yoga, the destroyer of the darkness of the world, he hears the sound of ringing bells; then sounds like the roar of thunder. When one fixes his full attention on this sound, being free from fear, the yogi gets absorption [in Divine Bliss].9
The Hatha Yoga-Pradipika declares that the worship of Nada Brahman is an essential practice for Hatha yogis. The text proclaims that the hearing of anahata nada (unstruck sound) is paramount among the millions of trance-inducing practices propounded by Shiva himself:
The Yogi should hear the sound inside his right ear, with collected mind. The ears, the eyes, the nose, and the mouth should be closed, and then the clear sound is heard in the passage of the susumna [central channel], which has been cleansed of all its impurities.10
ALL MUSIC, in one way or another, is therapeutic because it can heal. Behind this healing are the principles of Nada Yoga: the notion that sound is God — that sound is holy, and therefore capable of restoring wholeness. Around the world, from Greece to Egypt to India, cultures have used music to restore health and harmony in a system out of balance. We mentioned earlier the temple of Asclepius, to which Hippocrates took his patients to give them music as a form of therapy. Music therapists who continue this noble work have had remarkable results in their healing ministry. The music most used by Western therapists is harmonic music with rhythmic patterns. My hope is that melody and mantra will be included in future medical research and healing. When we understand the three musical aspects of harmony, rhythm, and melody, we can grasp the essential teaching of Nada Yoga, which we can then apply toward our own healing and that of others. The following explanation will help a nonmusician understand how this works.
When we hear a certain frequency — a note played on an instrument, the hum of a generator, or the prolonged tone of a singer — the wavelength of that particular sound moving through the medium of air affects our bodies, causing our cells and tissues to vibrate in unison with the tone of the vibrating body. In other words, our body resonates with that particular tone, which is known as the “fundamental tone” or, interestingly, “the tonic.” The tonic can be any frequency. When another tone, different from the fundamental tone, is simultaneously generated, a certain tension is established. This is called a “musical interval.” Human beings experience some of these intervals as pleasant and enjoyable; we call these “consonant intervals.” Those that feel uncomfortable and jarring we call “dissonant.”
When you begin with a given frequency and keep increasing it (raising its pitch), the original frequency will eventually double. This new pitch will sound similar to the fundamental tone even though it is vibrating at a different rate. We call the distance between these two frequencies the “octave.” Between these two frequencies that make up the octave, we have identified eleven other frequencies at specific distances from each other, giving us a total of twelve distances or intervals. These are the tempered intervals — equal divisions of the octave — I mentioned earlier, which are used in popular music in the West. Seven of these combinations (the fundamental plus one of the eleven frequencies) are considered consonant, while five are considered dissonant. Some are more consonant or dissonant than others.
The following chart illustrates how and why these tones range from increased consonance to increased dissonance. You will notice that the ratios (which represent the frequencies in relation to the fundamental) are gradually moving away from wholeness. The human ear seems to prefer whole numbers, and this conveys the experience of increased consonance or dissonance to the rest of the body. Simpler ratios are more harmonious. The broken line divides the upper (consonant) intervals from the lower (dissonant) intervals; the names for these intervals in Western music theory is given beside each ratio:
1:1 unison
1:2 octave
3:4 fourth
3:5 major sixth
4:5 major third
5:6 minor third
5:8 minor sixth
_____________________________________________________________
5:9 minor seventh
8:9 major second
8:15 major seventh
15:16 minor second
32:45 augmented fourth or tritone
The ratios listed above are critical to understanding harmony as it exists at every level of being in our universe. Joachim-Ernst Berendt points out that consonant sounds — proportions made up mainly of low whole numbers — are highly prevalent in our universe, at macroscopic as well as at microscopic levels. What is truly astonishing is the fact that our world is not only made up of sounds, but that these sounds are overwhelmingly harmonious. Berendt writes:
Not only the planetary orbits, but also the proportions within these orbits follow the laws of harmonics, much more so than statistical probability would lead us to expect . . . out of the seventy-eight tones created by the different planetary proportions, seventy-four belong to the major scale.”11
This major scale is the most consonant series of musical intervals that we know and use in our music. According to Berendt, the most frequent consonance is also the most harmonious, namely the octave. This proportion, 1:2, has always been used to signify the polarity and balance of the world: yang and yin, male and female, heaven and earth.* Furthermore, this yogic ratio is not only “written into the sky,” but also in our ears, because our ears prefer consonance (major proportions) to dissonance.12
Now, if you were to move step by step from the fundamental tone toward the octave, the intervals just listed would occur in the order shown in the following chart. This is their natural sequence, and it is exactly the order in which they occur on properly tuned piano keys or guitar frets. Each step is called a half-step or half-tone; two of these intervals spaced side by side make up a whole step or whole tone.
Base tone (the fundamental) resonates in unison 1:1 | |
minor second |
15:16 |
major second |
8:9 |
minor third |
5:6 |
major third |
4:5 |
fourth |
3:4 |
tritone |
32:45 (aka augmented fourth) |
fifth |
2:3 |
minor sixth |
5:8 |
major sixth |
3:5 |
minor seventh |
5:9 |
major seventh |
8:15 |
octave |
1:2 |
Notice that there is a minor and a major option for all intervals, except for the fundamental, the fifth, and the octave, which appear in boldface. These are called “perfect intervals.” All the others have a sharped or flatted option, which means that interval can be raised or lowered in pitch by a half-step. Thus, DO, RE, MI, FA, SO, LA, TI, and DO are the eight intervals of the octave, but five of them — RE, MI, FA, LA, and TI — have the option of being sharped or flatted. By choosing specific intervals to play simultaneously, we get a chord, which could be harmonious or disharmonious depending on how we combine these intervals.
Jazz music, for instance, stretches our musical ear to include many combinations of consonant and dissonant intervals. This is why it is sometimes called “atonal” music. Musical harmony, which comes to us through Western classical music, is derived from an understanding of chords that are structured with consonant intervals. Bach, Debussy, and Beethoven combined musical intervals in many ingenious ways, helping the Western ear gradually perceive harmony, even in intervals previously perceived as dissonant. Only the minor second, major second, tritone, minor seventh, and major seventh remain dissonant to our ears today. Harmonic music is therefore based on the relationship of simultaneous notes.
Melody, on the other hand, is the relationship of successive notes. All ancient music is, first and foremost, melodic. Celtic music and Gregorian chant, which is based on the ancient Greek modes, reveal this process. Indian music was the only type of music that remained melodic and developed melodic music to a high degree of sophistication. When you move from one note to another on a musical instrument, or when you sing or hum a tune, you feel the relationship between the notes; this is melody.
Played successively, the intervals rearranged on the second list — the chromatic sequence — are all a half-step from one another, and not as tuneful as a true melody. On the other hand, when you select a sequence of intervals such as the fundamental, the major second, the major third, the fourth, the fifth, the major sixth, and the major seventh, you have a melodious sequence. This particular sequence is the major scale mentioned earlier — the most consonant series in popular Western music, known to the Greeks as the Ionian mode. It is also the sequence sung by Julie Andrews to teach the von Trapp family fundamentals of music in The Sound of Music. She uses the Western musical syllable for each interval in the form of puns to teach them the sequence: DO, RE, MI, FA, SO, LA, TI, DO. The final do is half the wavelength of the fundamental DO.
There are many modal sequences like this and, as mentioned earlier, you can choose other intervals for the syllables RE, MI, FA, LA, and TI instead of those in the major scale sequence; this will give you a different tune. These choices of intervals allow music to convey a variety of emotions, awakening us to joy, sadness, melancholy, discomfort, strength, or comfort, and allowing us to create appropriate music to accompany movies, songs, operas, and musicals. This is also how we heal our souls and our bodies with music.
A specific set of intervals between the fundamental and the octave — say five, six, or seven notes — is called a “scale” in contemporary popular music, or a “mode” in ancient Western music. In Indian music and in Nada Yoga, this sequence of intervals is called a “raga.”
RAGAS ARE THE BASIS of Nada Yoga’s musical expression. Like mantras, they can be used as tools for healing and the transformation of consciousness. In a broad sense, musicians are logically Nada yogis. Even though they may not be aware of the cosmology and the profound spiritual principles underlying their work, they are either consciously or unconsciously striving for harmony. Harmony, we know, is the goal of the universe. Since the last century, however, I believe that art for art’s sake has disrupted this natural tendency, leading to a new breed of artists and empowering them with unrestricted license to propagate excessive violence and hatred through their art forms. This needs to change. I believe that artists — like politicians, business executives, and spiritual leaders — need to become more accountable for their choices and expressions. The only way this can happen is for spirituality to inform art, and vice versa.
In the fall of 1999, I spent a week with his holiness the Dalai Lama and about 150 other leaders in the arts, sciences, media, religion, business, and educational sectors of world society. We gathered at the Norbulingka Institute, in the foothills of the Himalayas, to discuss the role of spirituality in all these areas and to forge a synthesized perspective of independent disciplines, using spirituality as our common theme. I asked His Holiness what advice he had for artists today. “Learn to deal with your inner issues in private,” he said. “Don’t burden society with them; it is burdened enough. Transform your own energy first, then use your gifts to bring healing to society.”
Musicians and artists all have to become yogis. We need to use our art to transform, not to self-destruct. We need to find healthy ways of handling the intense energy we process through our systems. Because artists work toward developing a refined sensitivity, they are also very vulnerable. I believe that the study of ragas as a spiritual practice, along with the chanting of mantras, can help greatly in our transformation and empowerment.
Ragas are analogous to musical scales and modes, but they are much more than a mere assortment of notes. Ragas are special sets of musical intervals with explicit ascending and descending orders; they are also governed by precise rules, which emphasize specific intervals and note combinations within each series. The Indian octave is divided into twenty-two srutis, or tones, offering the musician and the listener a subtle tonal system. The South Indian system of Carnatic music classifies 34,776 discrete ragas through a formula known as Katyapadi Sankhya, as well as countless misra ragas — mixed ragas that borrow notes within this well-defined system. What is more, ragas are worshipped as spiritual presences with distinctive personalities that come alive. Ancient Hindu sages declared: “Ragas are a coloring of the spirit.”
All music is, in a sense, composed of ragas. While harmony, or the relationship of notes played simultaneously, has dominated Western music, ragas dominate Indian music. Ragas emphasize the relationship between successive notes. Ragas are essentially melodic music; ethnomusicologists consider them to be one of the world’s most sophisticated musical expressions.
Furthermore, ragas help create what I call “vertical” music. By this I mean that ragas are internal, drawing one inward. Like the Eastern culture and religion, it is introverted. Eastern religions advocate looking within to discover the inner reality and mystery of one’s being and Eastern music facilitates this process. Western music, on the other hand, is essentially “horizontal” in character. It has an intrinsic expansive quality that, by its very nature, causes it to move outward. This is typical of the Western culture, which is basically extroverted. Western religion, particularly Christianity, primarily advocates going outside oneself, toward one’s fellow human beings.13 Are we not meant to feel a burning desire to help others after a Christian worship service? Western music generally facilitates this outgoing process.*
RAGAS ARE COMPRISED of the mantric syllables SA, RI, GA, MA, PA, DA, NI, and SA — which correspond to the DO, RE, MI, FA, SO, LA, TI, DO of Western music. These mantric syllables are sacred for the Indian musician. Each note of the raga is associated with a deity rich in symbolic meaning and mythology.
For example, the note SA — the equivalent of DO in Western music — is derived from the first name of the deity known as Shadja Swara Daivatha. The grandmother of all notes, she is said to have a plump body. Her complexion is red, like the lotus — a flower that demonstrates how beauty can bloom in the muddiest of waters, symbolizing the fact that even the most twisted mind can be awakened to truth. The deity Shadja has four faces that represent the four cardinal directions, and eight hands, showing that all the other notes spring from her. Her two legs, stretched out on either end of the octave, continually give birth to her endless creativity. She is dressed in white to represent her infinite purity, and in the center of her forehead is the red mark of the goddess, a sign that she is feminine and married. Riding her vehicle, the swan (also a symbol of spiritual purity), she carries a sword, which represents discernment. Shadja Swara Daivatha belongs to the race of the Gandharvas, a mythical community of spiritual musicians who dwell in the heavens. It is said that Agni, the God of fire, was the first to discover her sacred presence. Since Agni is the principal deity of the Gods and the supreme messenger between the human and the Divine, this denotes the ancient supremacy of the fundamental note SA. All the other notes in the octave are described just as richly for the Indian musician.14
You may recall that the word for “note” in Indian music is “swara,” meaning “that which makes its own sweetness.” In music, sweetness is harmony or consonance, and each note (in relationship to the fundamental) has intrinsic properties that generate healing, wholeness, and love. The fundamental note on either end of the octave is the maternal syllable SA. The fifth note, PA — a note of great stability located in the middle of the octave — is the father. The other notes are the progeny of these two. In India, there is a well-known saying: “Mata, Pita, Guru, Deivam,” or “The Divine is mother, father, and teacher.” This trinity parallels the musical octave.
As you might guess, the notes and deities of the musical octave are also related to the chakras: SA to the root, RI to the second chakra, GA to the abdomen, MA to the heart, PA to the throat (the creative, expressive center), DA to the third eye, and NI to the crown. The techniques of Indian music, which use these syllables in performance and composition, awaken energy in the chakras, channeling energy toward its highest fulfillment in the Divine and transforming negative energy into a positive force. In this sense, the Nada Yoga practice involving the notes of the octave actually becomes a Shakti Yoga practice that works with the chakras. Ascending and descending the musical scale simultaneously causes our awareness to ascend and descend the spine, vibrating every cell along its path and activating groups of nerves that send healing impulses to the brain and the rest of the body.
WHILE MANY BOOKS on the chakras equate a specific musical note with each chakra, usually configuring them to the major scale — C, D, E, F, G, A, B, C — it is important to recognize that this approach does not take into consideration such significant factors as the time of day or the practitioner’s mood, body type, vocal range, or emotional state. Someone with a smaller or lighter body might find the key of E or G more appropriate.
One must also take into consideration the fact that the key of C contains twelve intervals, and each one of these intervals could start a new octave sequence. If you start on middle C as the fundamental, then from middle C to high C (twice the frequency) is one octave. The minor second — middle C# to high C# — offers another octave sequence, and so on. On a piano that has seven sets of C octaves, you have seven times twelve, or eighty-four keys, representing the seven sets of the twelve frequencies located with each of the seven C octaves. The individual human voice functions within a limited range, which is why choral music is so stimulating; it is made up of different vocal timbres functioning in various octave ranges that produce a wide spectrum of musical frequencies, all sounding harmoniously together.
Then there is the gender of the raga. In Indian music, ragas can be either masculine or feminine. Some are particularly powerful at certain times of the day or night, while others can be used at any time. Some ragas are seasonal and, like certain types of food, are best used during the appropriate time of the year. All this must be considered in order to achieve a more targeted effectiveness of raga and swara upon our spiritual consciousness and its development through the chakras. A vocabulary of ragas and vocal nuance also must be developed for the greatest amount of control during a session. Obviously, this level of expertise is only necessary for the highly advanced practitioner or healer. For most practical purposes, a few interval sequences are more than sufficient to keep the yogi’s chakras in alignment and balance. I offer the model I follow in appendix four.
As you can see, working with the chakras through ragas and music can become incredibly detailed, but here are some rough guidelines to help you keep it simple. We already discussed the fact that low tones are harmonious with denser structures because they have slower-moving oscillations. Similarly, high tones, with their rapid wave frequency, affect subtler regions. In the same way, vowels open up a specific region to prolonged energy supply, while consonants literally hammer and chisel away at the outmoded energy structures in a chakra. Listen to any vocal rendering of classical Indian music, and you will both hear and experience this combination of vowels and consonants in the use of raga. The combination of low and high tones, together with consonants and vowels applied in a specific sequence of musical intervals, activates and opens the chakras in amazing ways. Also, when you skip over an interval or two, it causes energy to push through several chakras; this technique generates a strong force-field that helps move energy out of a particular blocked center.
In these ways, ragas can be used for a wide variety of purposes. They can help a person deal with anger, pain, jealousy, depression, frustration, or emptiness. I believe that ragas, applied in clinical settings, offer powerful therapeutic tools to treat a wide range of illnesses. As music therapy evolves, the use of melodic sequences — particularly the amazing array of possibilities found in Indian music — can be documented for their healing properties.
FINALLY, WE MUST understand and use the musical element of rhythm in our chanting of mantras and in our breathing. Rhythmic patterns cause entrainment — the tendency for two oscillating bodies to come into phase with each other so that they vibrate together. I mentioned earlier the example of two heart-muscle cells vibrating together when brought into close proximity, or menstrual cycles that synchronize when women live in community. Entrainment produces synergy, which is the working together of two or more things or people to generate an effect greater than their individual capabilities combined. In Nada Yoga, the combined action of sound and breath produces such synergy. Another interesting parallel is that in medicine, synergy is the phenomenon whereby the combined action of two things — for example, drugs and muscles — is greater than the sum of their individual effects.
Music can be performed with or without rhythm. Chanting, no matter how slow, is often naturally rhythmic because the phrases and patterns are repeated in cycles. This is why group chanting is such a powerful phenomenon; the combined effect is far greater than that of any individual in the group. Similarly, when you chant along with a good recording, you have the same effect of entrainment. The cells, muscles, and tissues in your body are energized by the results. Boston scientist William Condon has shown that entrainment also takes place when two people have a good conversation; suddenly, their brain waves begin to oscillate synchronously.15
George Leonard, in his book The Silent Pulse, writes: “Meditation is a means for us to become more sensitive to our inner vibrations and rhythms. It may also be a means to facilitate entrainment, to tune our vibrations so that we are more ‘in sync’ with our world and with the people around us.”16
* The Nada-Bindu Upanishad is perhaps the oldest document on sacred sound, dating from between 500 and 200 B.C. The Hatha Yoga Pradipika was authored by the great sage Svatmarama in 1400 A.D.
* One part — the Divine, completes two parts — the perfectly equal or balanced male and female combination. Thus, 1:2 is the most consonant of ratios.
* There are of course many exceptions to this generalization. The music of Bach is an excellent example of western music that draws us inward.