One of the most popular of all the deities in the yogic pantheon is Gaṇeśa (Ganesh), who inspires loyalty through his charming presence and generous ability to help out with problems, though usually in a clever way that we might not expect. Gaṇeśa’s helpful and lively qualities are well renowned — he is known for his great balance as he rides a mouse, despite his heft and elephant head. He is also recognized as a regular yoga practitioner, which he learned from his father, Śiva, the founding father of yoga. Gaṇeśa is also a great listener, given his large elephant ears. He is happy to listen to the troubles of those who call upon him in order to help find a crafty solution. The simple kirtan chant presented here combines the seed sound for Gaṇeśa, gaṁ — which harnesses the very essence of his uncanny problem-solving abilities — with a call for refuge in Gaṇeśa’s delightful energy.
gaṁ gaṁ gaṁ gaṇapataye namaḥ
gaṅeśa śaraṇaṁ gaṇeśa śaraṇaṁ
śaraṇaṁ gaṇeśa śaraṇaṁ gaṇeśa
Gaṁ, gaṁ, gaṁ, I call the name of sweet Gaṇapati
I seek refuge in Gaṇeśa’s protection
Gaṁ is Gaṇeśa’s seed sound, or bīja mantra, which contains the essential energy of Gaṇeśa (as all bīja mantras do). A bīja mantra is like the seed of the banyan tree that carries within it all the potential for the great tree itself. Seed sounds, which can express the seed of a deity, a chakra, or energy — or even the universe, as oṁ does! — provide the core vibration that blooms fully into the expression they reference. Gaṁ is the little seed that houses the vibration of everything about Gaṇeśa. Just like the universe (see the Asato Mā mantra, page 47), every good idea begins with a seed. This mantra allows us to plant seeds for the solutions to our problems. Gaṇeśa’s essential energy helps us with this, and so we can use this chant any time we feel a blockage and are seeking a solution.
This mantra has pieces that we can use separately or together. It is fine to simply chant the bīja mantra on its own, silently or out loud, in order to plant quick, effective, problem-solving seeds. The second part of the chant — gaṇeśa śaraṇaṁ — can also be used on its own if the feeling you are looking to cultivate is some protection from the problem at hand. The word śaraṇaṁ means “refuge,” the idea being that we can take shelter in the ensuing storm and ride it out until the light comes. Of course, as yogis, we are looking for the protective light of our own wisdom that has a higher perspective on the storm. We’re looking for the aspect of Gaṇeśa within us to protect us from the stormy mental onslaught that sometimes occurs while obsessing over a problem.
Gaṇeśa is hailed as the remover of obstacles, and so he has garnered popularity for his ability to make all things go smoothly. However, Gaṇeśa’s real power lies not in his physical strength but in his intelligence. He reveals unexpected resolutions to every challenge or sees challenges in ways that transform them into possibilities. In other words, Gaṇeśa doesn’t blast away the rock that blocks our path, but he shows us the way around the rock, how to tunnel underneath it, or how to see the rock as the destination our path was meant to lead to. Gaṇeśa’s real power is his ability to create a shift in perception. By shifting our perception, we see that every problem has an inherent resolution. Often, in fact, the solution is this shift in perception, as we realize the problem was only a problem because of the way we viewed it. Gaṇeśa is not the remover of obstacles, but rather, the revealer of possibilities.
The refuge that the chant invokes with the Sanskrit word śaraṇaṁ is similar to the feeling we get when we are snuggled up in a cozy blanket in a safe place. When we take refuge within a particular energy, we surrender ourselves to it and allow it to saturate us from the outside in. This is particularly appropriate with Gaṇeśa, for his outlook on life is essentially that there are no problems. Basically, he’s awesomely okay with everything, including himself. He radiates a calm gaze and sharp focus. Problems do not bother him because he does not resist them or try to avoid them or out-muscle them. Rather, he accepts them and adjusts his attitude and perspective to meet them, and so he reveals the intrinsic power “problems” hold for us.
The following mythic story captures not only Gaṇeśa’s genius, but his ability to find a clever solution to a problem. As the son of Śiva and Pārvatī, Gaṇeśa’s royal birth set him high in the ranks of the gods. His brother, Skanda, often took advantage of their popularity and developed a bit of an attitude, thinking himself far cooler than some of the other gods.
One day, Śiva and Pārvatī witness this behavior and decide to stir things up a bit. They devise a test between Gaṇeśa and Skanda to determine which of the boys will be the “favorite” and garner the most accolades and acknowledgment, not just from them, but from the world.
Śiva and Pārvatī bring the boys together and inform them of the test. Skanda is immediately sure he will win, even before he learns the nature of the test itself. Gaṇeśa stands coolly by, waiting for his father to explain. Śiva places his arm around Pārvatī and says, “Okay, whichever of you boys can circumnavigate the universe three times the fastest and return here first will win our grandest favor forever.”
With that, Skanda races off.
Already known as the fastest of the gods, he can’t believe that his parents have created a test between him and his brother that he is so sure to win! There is no chance that Gaṇeśa, with his fat body and big elephant head, will ever be able to beat him in a race. And, as Skanda rounds his first turn of the universe and passes his family, he sees that Gaṇeśa is still standing there.
“What is he thinking? He must have just given up!” thinks Skanda.
Skanda doesn’t even lose his breath as he rounds the universe a second time. When he runs past his family, he catches a glimpse of Gaṇeśa and sees a little twinkle in his eyes. He tries not to let it faze him as he continues his third turn around the universe.
Just then, Gaṇeśa starts to shuffle coolly and calmly around his parents, circling Śiva and Pārvatī once…twice…and three times, before finally standing beside them both with his arms around their shoulders.
Just then, Skanda races up behind them and shouts, “I did it! I won! I’m the favorite!”
“No, I’m sorry, son, but you’ve lost,” says Śiva.
“What? How is that possible?” Skanda replies in exasperation. He’d been so fast! Gaṇeśa never passed him; in fact, he’d never even seen Gaṇeśa move from the starting line. This must be some mistake or cruel joke.
Śiva then explains that Gaṇeśa circled him and Pārvatī three times. As the ultimate sources of the universe, Gaṇeśa had simply gone around his parents, as opposed to circumnavigating their outer expression, all of creation. Skanda had missed the big picture and lost sight of the forest for the trees, so to speak. Gaṇeśa had found the simplest answer, and in so doing, he solved the challenge with the least amount of effort.
Gaṇeśa, in his simplistic and elegant wisdom, traces each challenge to its source. He sees problems as not being “out there” but as being right in front of him, or we might say, as part of him. He knows that since his parents are the source of the universe, all he needs to do is embrace them to have the whole thing encircled. There is no racing, no striving, no running or straining involved. The simplest, most localized act solves the task.
When faced with a problem, we needn’t look outside of ourselves, whether to blame others, or to offload the problem, or to find someone to fix the problem for us. Gaṇeśa’s wisdom points us within, where the source of each problem lies. Whatever the problem is, it doesn’t matter. The simple fact that we view it as a problem is what makes it a problem.
For example, one person’s problem is often another person’s spiritual challenge, great opportunity, or rite of passage. The way we view a situation is what makes it what it is, and our attachment to our perspective is usually the real problem. This idea is captured by a well-known Eastern parable.
One day, a man decides to play the lottery, and he wins. His neighbors all congratulate him on his good fortune.
He responds with, “Good? Bad? We’ll see!”
The neighbors think he is a little funny, but they watch all the same as the man uses his winnings to build a new house. He moves into his house with his wife. During a freak storm, the new house falls on his wife, injuring her. The neighbors all come to offer their sympathies for the man’s misfortune.
He responds with, “Good? Bad? We’ll see!”
While the man visits the hospital, he notices that his wife also has another visitor. Another man. Apparently she’s been having an affair. The neighbors find out and congratulate the man on revealing the infidelity of his wife.
He responds with, “Good? Bad? We’ll see!”
The man goes home and starts to fix his house. But it costs him all the remaining money he won in the lottery. The man is once again broke. The neighbors sadly come to see the man off as he sells his house and moves out.
He responds with, “Good? Bad? We’ll see!”
As the man leaves his house, he runs into an old high school crush. They get to talking. He tells her all he’s been through. He shares the events and waits for her reaction.
She responds with, “Good? Bad? We’ll see!”
They continue walking down the road together.
In other words, all challenges contain blessings and all blessings contain challenges. Our work, like the work of Gaṇeśa, is not to get caught up in whatever arises, but rather to see what each situation reveals to us about ourselves. When an obstacle appears, and we resist it, we then see exactly where we are not free. If the problem is financial, we see our own limiting beliefs around money. If the problem is physical, our limiting beliefs about our body are revealed. If the problem is in our relationships, then we see our limiting beliefs around who we are in relationships and how relationships are supposed to go. This is particularly valuable information.
On the spiritual path, we are interested in freedom from limiting beliefs. Limits are like prison walls keeping us from manifesting our greatest potential. If we stay behind those bars, we’ve got nothing but problems all the time. When we free ourselves from these bonds, then we are free to roam wherever we like. Just as Gaṇeśa maneuvered coolly around his parents, we can maneuver coolly around our lives when we learn to shift our perceptions in ways that reveal not problems, but possibilities.