A quick survey of the types of practice done in the most popular pilgrimage locations associated with the Indo-Tibetan Buddhist tradition—including Bodhgaya, Sarnath, and the great stupas of Boudhanath and Swayambhunath—would show that one of the most popular contemplative methods used in those locations is mantra recitation. A typical—and very widespread—example would be the hundreds and thousands of Himalayan elders engaged in the accumulation of the OM MANI PADME HUM mantra, fingering their prayer beads (malas) and often accomplishing a few hundred million recitations.
Although some Western (and Western-influenced) practitioners discount mantra recitation as either superstition or merely a convenient technique for keeping the mind busy, this colonial/reductionist interpretation can easily be remedied by looking into the inner significance of the practice. Inviting people to recite millions of these simple verbal formulas (often, though not always kept in their original Sanskrit form), the Into-Tibetan contemplative tradition describes a wide range of potential benefits that can be attained—benefits associated both with the mantra’s effect on the interdependence we exist within and with its ability to affect and transform our heart-mind energy.
The word “mantra” itself famously means “that which protects (tra) the mind (man or manas)”. On the foundational level, this protection simply refers to the mantra’s ability to keep us away from rumination: some types of mantra practice (used as basic level concentration techniques) literally instruct us to channel the mental energy into a never-ending repetition of a sequence of syllables.
Those syllables, in turn, have five levels of significance that all feed into the effectiveness of our practice:
Mantra’s interpretive meaning (for example, “Om! Jewel in the Lotus. Hum” for OM MANI PADME HUM), usually describing or inviting different facets of enlightened reality and able to inspire our mind
Mantra’s audible vibration, which affects anyone who hears, recites, or chants the syllables
Mantra’s ability to shape our breathing patterns, therefore affecting our subtle nervous system, or “subtle body”, and the flow of our inner energies
The inspiring energy (or “blessings”) that the mantra receives from the master or Buddha-figure primarily associated with it (for example, Buddha of Compassion in the case of OM MANI PADME HUM)
The inspiring energy that comes from numerous generations of practitioners using and realising the same formula, and from the of invisible community of practice that we belong to in this day and age
While all of these facets of mantra’s efficiency are important, they are never perceived in isolation—and neither is the practice mantra recitation itself, which, for the Indo-Tibetan tradition, is often discussed within the much larger domain of Buddhist tantric practice.
Within that context, one would first establish a certain level of mental stability, renunciation, altruistic love, and wisdom seeing the selflessness of all things. All those would then feed into an elaborate practice combining visualisation, mantra, and “wisdom”, or generation of certain mental states associated with profound types of insight.
This, however, does not mean that these advanced practices is where mantra recitation begins. On a popular level, strongly associated with the most common mantras (including OM MANI PADME HUM, or the mantra of Tara, or the mantra of Guru Rinpoche) chanting or repeating mantras is just a wholesome activity that can be done by anyone—anywhere, at any time, usually in conjunction with strong faith in the efficiency of the practice and a certain level of benevolence. It is not uncommon for the energy of the mantra to connect to our inborn qualities of compassion and wisdom, thus helping them flourish. Along those lines, Lama Zopa Rinpoche often quotes the example of his own mother, who, in addition to having developed very strong compassion in her lifetime (partly as a result of her great devotion to the mani mantra), was eventually reborn as a child with very strong and clear past-life memories.
The oral instructions I’ve received from a variety of masters usually combined these two sides: the elaborate profundity of full-form tantric practice, and the elegant simplicity of faith-infused nonstop recitation. “Full-fledged” mantra practice, leading to a realisation of the nature of reality, might take years and decades (if not lifetimes) to master; and yet, the simplest and most accessible mantras are always at our disposal, providing an easy way to soothe our mind, and, potentially, even positively affect the overall fabric of our personal interdependence.
In a way, the transformative power of mantra can be compared to the power of plant-based medicinal substances or of our breath itself—once our gross minds gets intoxicated (and therefore subdued) by the power of sincere recitation, more and more opportunities for expressing profound goodness emerge from within.
It’s our job to then catch those spurts of compassionate energy and use them for the benefit of all beings—exactly as the meaning of the foundational mantras (such as OM MANI PADME HUM) suggests.
To learn more about mantras in Indo-Tibetan Buddhism, you can read the following
The benefits of reciting OM MANI PADME HUM
Or try these guided practices which include mantra recitation
(Also available on Insight Timer)
“When I was about eighteen years old, I was in England and I had just “discovered” Tibetan Buddhism. I’d heard about the mantra, OM MANI PADME HUM. I assumed that we were supposed to say OM MANI PADME HUM all the time. I was working in a library, and I started saying, OM MANI PADME HUM continuously. Of course I couldn’t say it aloud because there were people around. But I started saying it in my heart. Within a very short time, my mind split and there was this quiet, calm, spacious mind with the OM MA NI PAD ME HUM reverberating within it, then there was this peripheral mind with all its thoughts and emotions. The two minds were detached from each other. Therefore I was able to carry on my everyday life more efficiently than before, because I was in the present all the time, yet with this detachment, this space in the mind. Whatever happened on the periphery was indeed peripheral. This gave great poise to my mind and the ability to exercise far more choice over my thoughts and feelings because I was no longer immersed in them. It was a great breakthrough for me.”
Jetsunma Tenzin Palmo, “Reflections On a Mountain Lake: Teachings on Practical Buddhism”