Why I wear a Mala bracelet: for focus and connection
Whenever I see the Mala on my wrist, whenever I hear the soft click the beads make when they brush against one another, I am reminded to take a breath.
You might have seen those beaded bracelets that some yoga teachers and other hippie-types wear on their wrists. I wear one, too. (I’ve actually been known to wear five.)
It is called a Mala. Malas have 108 beads. Some of them have 27 beads, which, for all you non-math types like myself, is a factor of 108. The 108 is important. It is considered to be an auspicious number and there are many levels of significance, from mathematical to astrological to the number of stitches on a baseball. So take your pick. Essentially, 108 has a way of representing the wholeness of existence.
Malas are used for a meditation practice, as an object of attention. I hold the mala in one hand and take a deep breath in, let it out slow, and move one bead. I take my next deep breath, let it out slow, and move another bead. You can do this whatever way works for you, so if you like to use a phrase to ground your attention (something like “peace begins with me” or “this too shall pass”) you can say it once for each bead. Going around the 108 bead Mala once, or the 27 bead Mala four times usually takes me around ten minutes.
You can find many other versions of this in different traditions. Catholics might use Rosary beads to focus and pray, you can also see this in Hinduism, Jainism, Sikhism, and Buddhism. But if the religious connotations make you uncomfortable, please note — this is also the basis of a fidget spinner. Religions don’t own concentration.
I also wear a Mala for another reason. Whenever I see it on my wrist, whenever I hear the soft click of the beads when they brush against one another, I am reminded to take a breath. I’m reminded that I want to live the principles of mindfulness in my entire life, not just when I am doing a formal mediation. I want to work towards a sense of peace - even when my dog is barking at the neighbor dog, when I’m in line at the grocery store, or when I have to get dental work done. Those are the moments that I want peace. And having a physical reminder on my wrist helps me.
I thought those were the only reasons that I wore a Mala. Until my online mindfulness group, Fire Monkeys created a new one.
One day, they asked me about the bracelet I always wear. I explained how to use a Mala, and why I find them to be so helpful. That morphed into a discussion of how cool friendship bracelets used to be.
Do any other 90s kids remember those? You and your friends might have braided them together out of embroidery thread, sitting in someone’s unfinished basement with TLC playing in the background. We started by pinning them to the knees of our corduroys so they wouldn’t get twisted up and then when they were done we’d tie them to each other’s wrists. Eventually, they’d get filthy and finally disintegrate off our wrist and we’d start all over again.
We decided we could have the grown-up version of that.
The Fire Monkeys wanted to have a physical reminder that even in our difficult moments - we are part of something. That we belong somewhere. That there are other people out there who have our back. That we matter - and the reminder would be right there on our wrist.
We are not alone.
I sent Malas to each person in our group. Everyone was thrilled. We now had something to hold in our hands. It felt like our fingers intertwined together. It felt like the hug we can’t give.
There is a concept in child development called Object Permanence. It is the ability to understand that objects still exist even if you can no longer see or hear or even sense them. It’s why peek-a-boo is hilarious because babies get excited every time we pop out from behind our hands. (We’re kind of mocking those babies for our amusement, but we don’t tell them that.) When we put a toy under a blanket, babies think it no longer exists. They get confused or upset by the loss. Somewhere just before the age of two, babies become less egocentric. They start to realize that the world exists outside of their point of view and experience. They will start to look underneath the blanket to find the toy.
In some ways, I’m less mature than a two-year-old. If I can’t see people, I worry that they have forgotten about me. So the Malas remind me that even though we can’t be together, we’re still together.
So just a reminder that even if you are not a member of the Fire Monkey group, you still belong. You are not as separate or alone as you might feel.
We’re right here. You don’t have to do this alone.
~~~
When it was time for me to name my company, I knew I wanted it to be something that represented that deep feeling of connection and belonging. Blue Mala was born. (The Blue part refers to the color of the throat chakra - a reminder to use our voice.) So thanks for being part of that connection and belonging.
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