Symbolism of Gestures

 

Return to the Centre: Discovering the Pure Gesture in a World Full of Doctrines

We often make gestures intuitively, without pausing to reflect on their deepest origins.

Joining one's hands at chest height — close to the heart — is one of the oldest, most archetypal movements of the human body.

For millennia in Eastern traditions, this gesture, known as Anjali Mudra or Namaste, has represented a pure technique of working with the body and energy. It requires no intermediaries, institutions, or dogmas. It is a simple, organic closure of the energetic circuit — a union of the right and left poles, the masculine and feminine, the mind and the heart. By placing our hands together in this way, we return to our own centre, quieten the nervous system, and greet the pure consciousness within another human being. From a place of full sovereignty, based on equality and living resonance. It is also a profound, quiet act of gratitude — flowing straight from the heart, not for anything specific and with no expectation of anything in return, but as an expression of appreciation for presence itself, for life, and for the lived moment.

Over time, this natural movement of the body was woven into the formal frameworks of various systems, taking on different shades and intentions on both sides of the world.

In Eastern doctrines, such as Buddhism or Hinduism, this gesture (often also called Gassho) is embedded in everyday life and spiritual practice. There, it serves as an expression of respect and recognition of the Buddha-nature and the spark of consciousness within every being. Although it became a ritual present in temples and monastic rules, at its core it retained the idea of non-duality, the dissolution of the division between the material and the spiritual, and the deep equality between the one who greets and the one being greeted.

In contrast, within the Western cultural sphere and the Catholic Church, the very same physical movement underwent a completely different evolution. In the Middle Ages, it was adapted from the feudal act of submission (immixtio manuum), in which a vassal placed his hands within those of his lord as a sign of subjection, obedience, and surrender to authority. The Church adopted this form into its liturgy, giving the gesture a dimension of supplication, humility, beseeching prayer, and the subordination of the human being to a higher, external authority.

Passing through these cultural and religious layers, I choose to return to the very source. I treat this gesture as entirely universal, archetypal, and neutral — free from the religious dogmas of both East and West. For me, it is neither a religious ritual nor an expression of submission. It is a simple, living technique of alignment, a personal tool for quietening, pure gratitude, and a gentle closing of my own circuit, which reminds me of my inviolable, inner sovereignty.

Ginkgo and Gaja