In the ancient Vedic hymns, the term shrī suggests beauty, luster, power, glory, riches, fertility, abundance, advantageous skills, and high rank. The term is especially used in later Vedic literature to refer to the wealth, ruling power, and majesty of kings (Kinsley, Hindu Goddesses 19). Shrī is the splendor that gives a king magnificence and authority to rule.

The personified form of Shrī, Lakshmī, is described and worshiped in the Shrī Shukta, a supplement to the Rig Veda (the earliest Indian literature). In that hymn, Shrī Lakshmī is associated with symbols of prosperity. She represents agricultural abundance. As an “earth-bound” goddess she is united with the “sky-god” Vishnu for creative power and the sustaining balance of the universe. In some texts, Lakshmi is the consort of Indra (the king of the gods) (Kinsley, Hindu 23). At other times she brings ruling power to demons, such as the demon King, Bali, who is both victorious and virtuous under her influence (23-25). When she moves from one ruler to another, she brings righteousness and fertility with her to the next kingdom.

By the Gupta period (300-700 CE), when the Vedic and folk goddesses become full-fledged Puranic (mythic) images, Lakshmī finally settles down as the consistent and faithful consort of Vishnu (the deity of sustenance and fruition). In the Bhāgavata Purāna and Kūrma Purāna for instance, Mahālaksmī (great Lakshmī) is equated with Vishnu’s supreme shakti (power).

In the “Devī Māhātmya,” an epic poem within the Markandeya Purāna Lakshmi is honored as the ultimate creative power. She is also recognized as the supreme universal grace in the Lakshmī Tantra (the main text of the Pāncharātra school of Vaishnavism), 

Meditating on the principles of beauty and abundance, you can become awakened to new layers of gratitude and realize the sacredness of life. You are invited to care for your Self with nourishing and nurturing practices. You are invited to attune with Nature's rhythms and honor the divinity within this earthly experience. You may create of your life a masterpiece of sensation, relationship, and joy.

Learning to LOVE your life unconditionally—is an ongoing process. Use the following soul questions and action steps to cultivate the archetypal qualities of Lakshmi in your real-world, human experience.  

Lakshmi's Bija Mantra is Shrīm.
"Just as "Om" is the mantra for spiritual liberation, "shreem" is the mantra for material well-being."
–Sreedevi Bringi

*Chant the mantra: Om Shrīm Mahalakshmiyei Namaha to invoke the generous compassion, unlimited abundance, and creative powers of Srī Lakshmi.

May you realize the glorious beauty and sacred sweetness of this human experience and delight in every single moment with creative freedom.

lakshmi. abundance. ritual. ​
Read/ Listen to more on these topics. 

Suppose you are shopping to find the perfect gift for the person who has everything. ...who, in fact, IS everything. What would you give the Universe? 

Mystic teachings seek to remind us that every person is an expression of the universal Infinite, and therefore, each of us is a divinely unique reflection of the “universal everything.” The archetypal image of Goddess Lakshmi embodies the abundance of the Earth and the richness of life’s miracles. She carries this message for you: 
तत्त्वमिस = “Tat tvam asi” = “You are that...” ​

William has been attending a public yoga class at a local studio, once a week for nearly three months. It is a beginning level class that commences with chanting of the sacred syllable OM followed by a recitation of the Gayatri mantra in Sanskrit, which is venerated as the “Language of Gods." This invocation is accompanied by the employment of a specific hand gesture, the jnana mudra, and the musical drone of a tambura. As the vibration dissolves, the room is quiet. William joins the other participants in seated silence to absorb the stillness and to psycho-spiritually “arrive.”

Now, it is time for asana. 
The class moves, as if a single entity, through dynamic postures and physical alignments. They breathe and flow and stretch and hold. They engage their muscles and absolve their minds as they conform to detailed instructions. Their bodies become symbols, their hearts the corporeal axis mundi (center of the world). 

Occasionally the teacher will cue a psycho-emotional consideration:
“Allow your heart to open.”
...or “Connect into the Earth.”
...or even, “Surrender to the Universal Flow of Love.”
William is accustomed to hearing these phrases. They are a part of the experience and contribute to the atmosphere of the practice. Everything transpires as usual, as if by protocol, in expectation of the final gesture of the exercise: savasana.
Translated from Sanskrit to mean, “corpse pose,” savasana is the culmination of the dance.

This is William's favorite part.

He relaxes onto his back, granting every muscle to release, in a manner that has become affectionately familiar. Suddenly and spontaneously, he is engulfed in emotion. His body trembles as a torrent of tears mark rivers along each temple, pooling on his mat. He is not sad; he is bewildered. He has had a spiritual, perhaps liminal, experience that provokes a curious swell, “What is this Yoga?”

The preceding is a true story, and one that I have encountered many times over the past twenty years as a yoga teacher; when new practitioners succumb to a mysterious incident. Often, this unexpected phenomenon will inspire them to investigate their relationship to the world. They examine their soul's purpose. They will describe the sensation as both joyful and sorrowful. Deep questions rise from the unconscious mind, yet peaceful assurance is subtly provided. In the words of the great Mircea Eliade, the practitioner will “experience his profound nothingness–feel that he is only a creature” (10).

...And at the same time, the individual is empowered–inspired and motivated to seek meaning for his or her life. She feels both humbled and expanded–one with the entire universe. This incident will generally solidify her connection to the practice. In that instant, her involvement is shifted from curious neophyte to faithful devotee.

The aim of any ritual is transformation.
Ritual uses metaphor, imagination, and symbol to transform energy and awaken consciousness. Marion Woodman writes, “A ritual should take you into a much broader, richer experience; every time you go through a ritual you should contact that deepest, divine part of yourself and open to something new.” 

Could yoga class be considered a ritual? Is it possible, that a studio in Colorado, thousands of miles and thousands of years from the original Vedic sages, could be the site of spiritual transformation?

Despite the exuberant work of religious and secular theorists, the definition of “ritual” remains elusive. The term has been used to refer to religious acts, secular celebrations, even systematized personal behaviors. The word "ritual" has been sensationalized and/or de-mystified and used to sell products. To other people the idea of "ritual" seems foreign—exotic and peculiar.

But human beings long for ritual. We have a natural tendency toward ritualization, ie everyday societal norms like shaking hands, birthday gifts, and prayers before meals. In fact, some theorists would assert that ritualizing is critical to the success of a society. Employing habitual patterns and repetition, ritualization establishes, transmits and perpetuates certain behavioral norms. It connects people and creates cohesion. 

But here's something else about human beings: most of us will only do something for so long until we begin to ask, “What is the point of this?”
For a ritual to be potent, it must be living. It must have meaning. The purpose of a ritual is illuminated by the flame of its intention, ie: the point.

Ritual is like art. It is animate with meaning.

One might argue that great art is meaningless–created solely for art’s sake. But even art that is purposefully "purposeless" becomes defenseless to the meaning that it invokes. Eventually, as a relationship develops, an art appreciator will inevitably attribute some meaning to the work. Human beings are meaning-makers, after all. We are soul artists. We create purpose from connection. 

Like art, ritual is not responsible for providing meaning. Instead, it instigates meaning. Meaning arises from engaged participation. It evolves out of embodied experience.
Across cultures and continents, ritual has inspired the imagination of its participants. Hopi kachina initiation rites, Isoma fertility rituals of the Ndembu tribes of Zambia, Tamil pilgrimages in India, Dia de Muertos of the Mexican heritage....rituals are defined by what they effectuate within the psyche of their adherents.

I offer Yoga class as a ritual.
It is an invitation to move consciousness beyond the routine identification with ego- personality, to connect with something seemingly larger than your limitations. Yoga teachings inspire mythic imagination while verbal cues engage your body as a microcosmic symbol of transformation. It invites you into the cosmic stillness, where the presence of the numinous may be experienced.

What does all of that mean?

You are a soul artist. The meaning is entirely up to you.
Yoga becomes ritual when you fully engage the practice and give it purpose; when you "open to something new" and dance inside the mystery.

...And after his experience, I know that William would advise you to never skip savasana.  
The "corpse pose" is still his favorite part of the ritual.
It is, after all, the culmination of the dance.


References: 
Eliade, Mircea. The Sacred and the Profane.
Woodman, Marion. Conscious Femininity.