Monday, January 9, 2012

AJA EKAPADA ("The One-Footed Unborn")


            I chose this odd title (an epithet for kundalini) for my reflection paper on Lilian Silburn’s Kundalini: Energy of the Depths, because it characterizes the almost hallucinogenic, visionary writing found in many of the Sanskrit passages translated within the book. Silburn is director of the Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique, in Paris, and was a student of the Kashmiri Shaivite adept, Lakshman Joo. She admits in her introduction that Swami Joo refused to give his blessings to the publication of the book.[1] Apparently, he worried that the public was not ready for the book’s esoteric teachings on spiritual power. Nonetheless, it seems to me that the late swami need not have been concerned, because the general public will not be able to make heads or tails of these arcane teachings![2] Were I not already familiar with the basic ontological model of Shiva-Shakti and also with a number of the key concepts of Kashmiri Shaivism, I would have been lost from page one.
The book’s subtitle is, A Comprehensive Study based on the Scriptures of Nondual Kashmiri Shaivism¸ and about a half of the book is comprised of translations from Sanskrit texts, principally the Tantraloka of Abhinavagupta, the Shaktavijnyana of Somananda, and the Amaraughashasasana of Gorakshanantha. The rest of the book is the author’s commentary and exegesis of those texts, which chiefly concern the awakening and cultivation of kundalini energy. This kundalini arousal is accomplished through four complementary methods:

1) Breathing/concentration techniques.
2) Mantra yoga.
3) Direct “invasion” of the body of the student by the guru’s spiritual power.
4) Awakening of yogic energy through sexual intercourse with a partner.

The first system, focusing on pranayama, or breath control, prescribes complicated techniques of balancing the dual polarized energies of the incoming and outflowing breaths, and of breath retention. The next system concerns two-syllable mantras, which are to be conjoined with the inhalation and exhalation. Surprisingly, the mantras that predominate in the Kashmir Shaivism tradition do not include Om namah Shivayah; in fact, that mantra was never mentioned in this book. 
On the other hand, Abhinavagupta, the 11th-century master, touts the efficacy of the mantras Aham and Sauh and analyzes them in an intricate and extensive treatise, explaining the meaning and power of each phoneme. Kashmiri Shaivism, in general, places primary emphasis on the power of sound, specifically on the notion of spanda, or “primordial vibration”—a vibratory aspect to the power of all creative energy. The adepts say this throbbing energy has created the entire material cosmos, and one can gain access to it through the method of tuning into mantric sound. In some passages Abhinavagupta seems to be saying that Aham is the supreme and unsurpassable mantra, and in other places, he lauds Sauh as the veritable ticket to the heaven of the gods. He regards these mantras as more than just keys to unlock the power of Kundalini (Shakti)—in some sense, they are themselves condensed seeds of Shakti, or of Shiva-Shakti, the ultimate reality.
Apparently, the Trika Shaiva system discounts the elaborate iconography of the chakras taught in other yoga tantra systems—that is, the various numbers of petals and colors, sounds, animals, inscribed letters, gods and goddesses. The Shaiva tradition just sees the chakras as whirling wheels. As in certain forms of Tibetan yoga, the Trika Shaivism of Kashmir acknowledges only five chakras, instead of the more common seven. The root chakra is followed by the navel chakra; and the “third eye” chakra is fused with the crown chakra.
An interesting segment from Abhinavapgupta’s Tantraloka attempts to explain (though in a very arcane and coded fashion) the method by which the guru accomplishes shaktipat diksha, also called vedhadiksha (initiation through penetration).[3] In her exposition of this subject, Silburn tells of a fascinating transmission rite mentioned in two early Upanishads[4]. This has to do with a father, at the hour of his death, passing his identity into his son. The son lies down on top of the father, or sits in front of him:
“Then he performs the transmission: ‘I want my voice to be placed in thee,’ the father says. ‘I receive thy voice in me,’ says the son. ‘I want my breath to be placed in thee,’ the father says. ‘I receive thy breath,’ says the son. This goes on likewise with sight, hearing, taste, actions, pleasure and pain, procreation, gait, intellect, and the son receives them all (Silburn, [quoting the Kaushitaki Upanishad] 88).”
As for the shaktipat initiation (as far as I could decipher it), the guru breathes in the exhaled breath of the student, “purifies” it, and returns it to the student, who inhales the exhaled breath of the guru. Alternatively, with more advanced students, the guru penetrates into the central channel (sushumna or madhyanadi) of the disciple, bringing a powerful breath energy, called madhyapranakundalini, into play. Abhinavagupta’s Tantraloka says, “When duly performed, it consists of penetrating higher and higher into the disciple, who clearly and unmistakably feels it through his centers.” A number of other forms of penetration are described in heavily coded language. In all of them, the adept “first makes the breath enter into the lower center of his own body and then performs the type of penetration which he deems specially fit for the disciple (ibid. 93).”
Silburn devotes a chapter to kulamarga, the “left-handed path,” with its infamous practices that include eating meat, drinking wine and engaging in ritual sexual intercourse. Interestingly, the shastras mention that this tantric sex is not to be practiced with one’s wife, unless one is already enlightened. Go figure.
Abhinavagupta asks rhetorically in the Tantraloka, “What is the criterion of purity?” Then he proceeds with this apologia: “That alone is pure which is identical with Consciousness, everything else is impure. No distinction between pure and impure exists for him who regards the entire universe as identical with Consciousness (ibid. 164).”
For me, the most interesting feature of the esoteric prescriptions for tantric sex is the notion of the spontaneous stages of inner quiescence (Shanta) and outer emergence (Udita) during the sexual union. At first, these states alternate. Gradually they integrate into a fullness called the “inner emergence.” 
“When quiescence and emergence are integrated and then transcended, kaula [ultimate reality] manifests in all its glory as cosmic beatitude (ibid. 170).” This beatitude is realized as the eternal union of Shiva and Shakti, which Abhinavagupta describes as a “domain full of bliss and ever-surging Consciousness.”

In conclusion, Kundalini: Energy of the Depths is not easy reading, a book to carry to the beach. Silburn admits as much in her own conclusion to the book: “Even when seen together, these texts retain their mystery; they elude systematic or exhaustive exposition precisely because they are too rich in immediate experience, too careful as well to keep it concealed under the guise of revelation. This ever-present double aspect of mystery and revelation gives the reader the fascinating impression of a treasure which recedes the moment he is about to grasp it.” Only if one has gained at least an introductory academic knowledge (and perhaps some direct inner experience with) kundalini energy, do these writings of the Kashmiri Shaivite masters begin to become marginally decipherable.


Works Cited

Silburn, Lilian. Kundalini, the Energy of the Depths: A Comprehensive Study Based on
the Scriptures of Nondualistic Kashmir Shaivism. Albany, NY: State University of
New  York Press. 1989.



[1] For this reason, she declined to dedicate the work to him: “I wish I could have dedicated this book to Swami Lakshman Brahmacharin, from whom I received constant support while I was exploring the texts, but since I did not get much encouragement on his part for the publication of this work—to him a rather daring undertaking—I dedicate it to the abysmal serpent. (Silburn, p. xvi).”

[2] To be fair, it was translated from the original French as part of the SUNY Press series on Shaiva Traditions of Kashmir. Perhaps the French language version made more sense.

[3] One can easily see why the late Swami Muktananda of Ganeshpuri became fascinated with Kashmiri Shaivism in his later years. In it, one presumes, he found a theoretical framework for his own kundalini experiences. I have read Muktananda’s autobiography (written early in his teaching career), and it is apparent that the “science” of kundalini was not at first known to Muktananda even though the kundalini energy itself was powerfully awake within him. That is, the kind of exacting esoteric detail in which Abhinavagupta spells out the science of kundalini, comes from the Kashmiri Shaiva tradition, not from Muktananda’s own Siddha lineage. (Muktananda’s guru, Nityananda, never gave discourses—in fact, he rarely spoke at all.) 

[4] Brhadaranyaka and Kaushitaki.

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