How Ganesha Can Help You Remove the Samskaras Within You

Ganesha is known as the remover of obstacles. Most of us think that means the obstacles on the road in front of us. This is the story of how I learned he also removes the ones that stand inside us, and the mantra that started it: Om Gam Ganapataye Namah.

One light, many colours

Before the story, one thing about how I see Ganesha.

God is not only somewhere out there. God is within, as he is in everything else. All of this is an expansion of the same source. And the different forms of god are nothing more than different expressions of that one source.

Think of pure white light passing through a prism. It breaks into a spectrum, a rainbow. Red is not separate from violet. Both are the same light. Or think of food: one meal, broken down on your tongue into sweet, sour, salty, bitter. Different flavours, one dish.

Ganesha, Shiva, Krishna: different colours of the same white light.

This isn't a new idea. The Rig Veda says it in four words: ekaṃ sad viprā bahudhā vadanti, "Truth is one; the wise call it by many names" (RV 1.164.46). Ganesha's own hymn, the Gaṇapati Atharvaśīrṣa, opens the same way: "You alone are the visible truth… you alone, truly, are all this, Brahman." So when I chant to Ganesha, I'm not calling someone far away. I'm turning towards one colour of the light that is already in me.

A Shaivite party in a Krishna monastery

When I was in Germany, I was living in a monastery. A Krishna monastery.

And one day, Shiva decided to organise a little Shaivite party, where randomly, on the same day, every single person who came through those doors was a Shaivite.

That's where I met Simon. He was a German teenager who had been pulled towards the teachings of Sanātana Dharma, the "eternal way" that most people today call Hinduism.

I spent time telling him my story: how I had ended up there, stranded by broken love.

He told me how, if I could process what was within me, doors would open up.

And he showed me how I could use the Ganesha mantra to remove not only the obstacles in my path, which is the popular belief, but also the obstacles that stand between me and my own completeness, within me.

Those inner obstacles have a name in the yogic tradition: samskaras, the imprints left by experiences we never finished feeling. Unprocessed grief, old beliefs about ourselves, the heartbreak we carried to another country. They sit inside and quietly shape what we see outside.

And so the journey started.

How he showed up

Ganesha has done miracles for me. But let me show you a little of how he showed up.

The mouse and the monk

After I started chanting this mantra, one night I almost stepped on a tiny mouse.

While I was trying to free it, a monk walked past, told me that this was the vehicle of Ganesha, laughed it away, and continued on his stride.

In the stories, Ganesha rides a mouse, the mūṣaka. One common teaching reads the mouse as the restless mind, which Ganesha doesn't get rid of but rides.

The shooting star at the farmhouse

On this trip, I was living in the mountains at a farmhouse, doing a work and volunteer programme. One night, while I was doing my daily set of mantras, I laughingly said to Ganesha: "If you are listening to me, and with me, please show me a shooting star."

It never happened. I went to sleep.

In the middle of the night, I had to wake up to pee. Since the washroom was way behind the house, I just decided to pee in the forest outside the house.

And for some reason, I felt a sudden urge, like someone was gently twisting my neck, asking me to look up.

And guess what I saw at that moment: a bright shooting star.

Just like that, my prayers were answered, and I knew I was heard.

This is my own lived experience, not a promise that it will happen the same way for you.

About the mantra

• The words. Oṃ gaṃ gaṇapataye namaḥ: "Om. Gam. Salutations to Ganapati."
• Source. The Gaṇapati Atharvaśīrṣa (also called the Gaṇapati Upaniṣad), a late Upanishadic hymn to Ganesha, usually placed around the 16th–17th century and attached to the Atharva Veda. Its seventh verse builds the seed syllable gaṃ sound by sound and ends with this exact line.
• The seed syllable. Gaṃ is Ganesha's bīja, his seed sound. The hymn spells it out: "ga is the first form, a the middle form, the nasal ṃ the last form." It has no dictionary meaning. It is used as a sound, not a word. (More on how Sanskrit treats sound in Sanskrit, the Endless Sound.)
• Who Ganapati is. Ganesha (Gaṇeśa) and Ganapati (Gaṇapati) both mean "lord of the gaṇas". The gaṇas are Shiva's band of attendants, and the word also means any group or category. He is the son of Shiva and Parvati, and the one honoured first, before any other prayer or new beginning.

How to read the mantra

The Devanagari is the original script. The transliteration (IAST) shows exactly how it sounds. Open How to say it for simple phonetics and Word by word for the meaning of each word. The translation follows the Sanskrit closely and adds nothing.

A quick guide: ṃ is a hum through the nose, so gaṃ sounds like "gum" with the lips closing softly at the end. ṇ is an "n" said with the tongue curled back. aḥ at the end of namaḥ carries a soft breath, "na-ma-ha".

That's the whole mantra. Five sounds. No request, no wish list. It doesn't ask Ganesha to move anything. It bows.

That matters. Popular translations often add "O remover of obstacles, grant me success." Those are devotional glosses. They are not in the Sanskrit. What the Sanskrit actually does is quieter: it places the seed sound, names the one who holds every group together, and bends. Some teachers read namaḥ as na mama, "not mine". That is a traditional teaching reading, not the word's grammar, but it points to the same thing: you hand over what you were holding.

The lines I've left out (marked …) describe the dot and the resonance that complete the sound, and name the hymn's seer (Gaṇaka), metre (nicṛd gāyatrī) and deity (Ganapati).

Obstacles outside, obstacles within

Ganesha is called Vighneśvara, lord of obstacles. Here's the part most people miss: in the tradition he is lord of obstacles in both directions. He removes them, and he also places them, when an obstacle is what we need. That's why he is honoured first. Not to bribe the gatekeeper, but to align with the one who decides which doors open now.

The same hymn says something that, for me, explains Simon's teaching: tvaṃ mūlādhāra-sthito'si nityam, "you are always established in the Mūlādhāra", the root centre at the base of the spine (Atharvaśīrṣa, verse 6). In this reading Ganesha isn't only at the gate of the temple. He sits at the root of you. (More on the root centre in The Seven Chakras.)

So the obstacles he works with are not only a late visa or a failed exam. They are the imprints at the root: the fear of being left, the belief that you have to earn love, the heartbreak you carried halfway across the world. When those loosen, the road outside often changes on its own. That's what Simon meant. Process what's within, and doors open.

How it can help

There are three ways to look at what this mantra offers: what the text itself says, how the tradition uses it, and what the practice of chanting does.

What the mantra says

It says almost nothing, on purpose. A seed sound, a name, a bow. It sets no conditions and asks for no outcome. If anything is being removed, it's the part of us that insists on holding on.

How the tradition uses it

• Before beginnings. Chanted before a new job, a move, a journey, a ceremony or any other prayer, because Ganesha is honoured first.
• As daily japa. Repeated 108 times on a mala, often in the morning.
• On Ganesha's days. Commonly chanted on Wednesdays, on Sankashti Chaturthi (the fourth day after the full moon) and during Ganesh Chaturthi.
• As part of the Atharvaśīrṣa. Many families recite the whole hymn, which contains this mantra, as a daily prayer.

What the practice itself does

A short, steady mantra gives the restless mind, the mouse, one thing to carry. The breath slows to its rhythm. Scattered attention gathers into one channel. For many people that supports calm and focus. For some, as for me, that quiet is also where held-down feelings finally surface, so they can be felt and finished.

Chanting is a spiritual and reflective practice. It may support calm and focus, but it is not medical or psychological treatment. If old grief or painful memories come up and feel too heavy, please reach out to someone you trust or a qualified professional.

How to chant it

1. Listen to a recording first and learn the five sounds. Let gaṃ hum through the nose.
2. Sit comfortably, spine upright. Take three slow breaths. Bring your attention to the base of the spine.
3. Bring to mind one obstacle you feel inside: a fear, a hurt, a story you keep replaying. Don't analyse it. Just name it once.
4. Chant the mantra 108 times, slowly, counting on a mala or your fingers. If 108 is too many, start with 27.
5. When you finish, sit in the silence for a minute. Then let it go. Don't wait for a sign.

A 21-day practice: chant 108 times every morning for 21 days with the same inner obstacle in mind. Keep a notebook. Write down what comes up: memories, dreams, small coincidences, moments you react differently. Notice, don't judge.

Sources and a note on accuracy

The mantra and verse 7 follow the standard text of the Gaṇapati Atharvaśīrṣa. Word meanings follow the Monier-Williams Sanskrit-English Dictionary. Dating follows Courtright and the Wikipedia overview below. If you spot an error, please tell me and I'll correct it.

• Gaṇapati Atharvaśīrṣa (Gaṇapati Upaniṣad), verses 1, 6 and 7, standard text (as printed in sanskritdocuments.org and Gita Press editions)
• Overview and dating: Ganapati Atharvashirsa, Wikipedia
• Ṛg Veda 1.164.46 (ekaṃ sad viprā bahudhā vadanti)
• Paul B. Courtright, Gaṇeśa: Lord of Obstacles, Lord of Beginnings (Oxford University Press, 1985)
• Monier Monier-Williams, A Sanskrit-English Dictionary (Oxford, 1899)

Look up

I came to Germany stranded by broken love. I left knowing I was heard.

Timeless Teachings shares sacred texts for study and personal practice, with respect for the traditions they come from. The story above is my own lived experience, not a promised result. Meditation and mantra practice support reflection and wellbeing; they are not medical or psychological treatment and do not replace professional care.