It’s All in the Name: A Devotee’s Journey with Mantra
- Jennifer Lenhart
- Jul 31
- 4 min read

“I have found a way to live in the presence of the Lord, and it’s all in the Name.”—Krishna Das
There is a place in the heart where mantra becomes more than sound—more than words. It becomes a portal. A presence. A path.
Krishna Das reminds us in his music that by chanting the names of God, we come into God’s presence. It’s not metaphor. It’s not theory. It’s real. Neem Karoli Baba, known lovingly as Maharaji, said it simply: “God, Guru, and Self are One.” When we repeat the names of the Divine, we’re tuning in to that essential place in ourselves where Love dwells—where all is One.
The Power of the Name
Mantra is a timeless technology, a sacred current passed down for millennia. In Sanskrit, the word “mantra” means “that which protects the mind.” But it’s more than protection—it’s transformation. It bridges the gap between the chattering, ego-driven mind and the deeper Self, the True Nature that yogis call Sat-Chit-Ananda—Truth, Consciousness, and Bliss (and according to my teacher Sharon Gannon: mostly bliss).
My relationship with chanting has grown gradually and deeply over my 30+ years of practice. Early on, my sadhana was inconsistent. But everything changed when I stepped fully onto the Bhakti path, when I realized Maharaji was my Guru, and when I committed to the heart-opening power of mantra.
The Chalisa and the Turning Point
In 2022, after a soul-stirring visit to the Neem Karoli Baba Ashram in Taos, I finally committed to memorizing the Hanuman Chalisa—a 40-verse hymn praising Hanuman, the embodiment of devotion and service. Maharaji often instructed his devotees to chant the Chalisa, and I took that to heart.
By the end of that year, the Chalisa was part of me. It echoed through my mind like breath—present even in the quiet hours of the night. It became my anchor in hard times, my reminder of grace, and my way of staying connected to Maharaji and Hanuman.
Pilgrimage and Presence
In 2023, I traveled to India for the first time—a spiritual yatra to follow in Ram Dass’s footsteps. There, devotion saturated the air. We chanted constantly: in temples, in ashrams, even on the road. Returning home was difficult, but mantra helped me stay tethered to that devotional mindset.
When I returned again in March 2025, the practice deepened even more. One night in India, I had a powerful dream where I was in a car accident. As the car rolled, I was not afraid. My silent meditation mantra played in my mind, wrapping me in what felt like Maharaji’s grace. I walked away from the crash unharmed. That dream showed me something profound: when mantra is embedded in the subconscious, it carries you—even when you’re not conscious enough to call on it.
Sacred Sound, Sacred Fire
Later that trip, I attended a traditional Aarti ceremony at a centuries-old Shiva temple. Amid fire, smoke, conches, bells, and ecstatic chant, I silently repeated “Om Namah Shivaya” and had a transcendental experience. Shiva was there. Not as an idea, but as a living presence.
A Bhakti After-Party and a Kundalini Awakening
This June, I was blessed to co-lead a Bhakti Yoga retreat at the Hanuman Healing Sanctuary in Asheville, NC. Late into the night, a few of us would gather at the outdoor Hanuman temple for what we lovingly called “Bhakti after-parties.” We sang. We laughed. We remembered God together.
Driving home, in a rented car full of malas, incense, and Radha-Krishna photos, we were chanting a vibrant version of the Maha Mantra when something shifted. My heart chakra opened wide, flooded with energy, compassion, and bliss. It was a kundalini experience—life-changing and unforgettable.
From the Heart to the Throat
When I returned home, I dove even deeper into practice. Transcendent states became regular companions. Then I lost my voice—laryngitis. I realized my kundalini energy had risen to the fifth chakra—the throat—and was stuck.
Years of silencing myself in an unhealthy marriage had left energetic residue. So I wrote a letter to my husband and told him I could no longer stay. I chanted for an hour beforehand, and I silently chanted the Maha Mantra as he read my words. I sent him forgiveness. And miracles happened. He chose to begin his own healing journey.
A Temple of My Own
Today I’m in a new home—a temple space where devotion thrives. Chanting here brings me regularly into that state beyond mind, beyond thought, even beyond mantra. It is the radiant space of Love. Bliss. Grace. And it keeps unfolding.
All of this is to say: yoga works. Mantra works. It’s not just a practice—it’s a relationship. A lifeline. A remembrance.
It’s all in the Name.
Beyond Name and Form
Mantra also helps us release our attachment to images. In the August 2025 Jivamukti focus-of-the-month essay, Monica Jaggi quotes Shri Brahmananda Sarasvati:
“The ‘I-Am’ principle has no form, no design, no picture, no image, no male or female gender, no white, brown, or black color, no youth, no old age.”
Through mantra, we let go of these images. We taste something eternal. Something real.
So if you’ve ever wondered whether chanting could really make a difference, I can say from my heart: it can. It does. It will, if you commit to regular practice over time. And when it becomes part of you, it shows up for you—again and again.
In the stillness.In the storm.In the silence of a broken heart.In the fullness of bliss.
Just chant. Let the Name carry you home.
xo Sharada Devi
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