Trika Shaivism

I have finished reading two more books on Trika Shaivism: Abhinavagupta’s Paratrisika-Vivarana, translated by Jaideva Singh, and Swami Lakhsman Jee’s Kashmir Shaivism: The Secret Supreme. Reading these books together turned out to be a good idea, because Jee’s book helped me to make sense out of the more ancient text. This brief essay will focus on the first book.

Paratrisika-Vivarana is one of the first major works of Abhinavagupta (d. 1025 ce). Paul Muller-Ortega, editor of the SUNY series on Kashmiri Shaivism gushes in his introduction to this translation that Jaideva Singh “brings to light a treasure-laden text such as the romantic imagination of visionaries and scholars have sought in India for centuries” (Singh, ix). When in the 13^th Century, Islam drove Kashmiri Shaivism into an even stricter secretiveness then the movement had already imposed upon itself,[1] this text somehow managed to survive, hidden and copied by scribes who may not have even understood it. Muller-Ortega says Abhinavagupta’s Sanskrit is “very difficult” and that this book is “his most complex and difficult work” (Singh, x). He’s not exaggerating its opaqueness. Although Abhinavagupta (henceforth: A.G.) provides extensive commentaries on many of his verses, his commentaries are often as dense as their referents. Yet at times his language emerges from the abstruse into poetry, as in the opening verse:

May my heart, the divine beatitude made visible in the form of the universe, whose very nature is manifestation, bursting into view by the union of Shiva and Shakti, which is the very emblem of supreme immortality, be fully flourished. The mother is Shakti, the universal Divine Energy which expresses its stamina in ever fresh creativity that is inspired by pure, absolute autonomy. The father is Shiva who is perfect and complete in Himself, not lacking anything whatsoever (Singh, 1).

Certainly the most complex section of the book is the matrika theory of the manifestation of the material universe via an incarnational process of Cosmic Sound. This treatise goes on for more than a hundred pages, explaining how Cosmic Sound produced all the letters of the Devanagari alphabet. Like his Kabbalist and Sufi contemporaries who were then thriving in Andalusia, A.G. places great emphasis on the meaning and function of each and every letter and phoneme.[2]

Detailed charts and lengthy explanations depict the principles by which Paravak, the Supreme Creative Word, generates each Sanskrit letter.[3] In a typical analysis, the mantra aham (“I Am”) begins with the first vowel “a” which is the original emanation of Paravak and represents Shiva; its second letter is ha, which represents Shakti, and the m represents Nara. The anusvara over the m shows that the entire continuum—Shiva-Shakti-Nara—is really one absolute singularity.

In addition to this mysticism of individual letters, A.G. frequently provides a dozen or more definitions of a single word, such as anuttara, showing various etymological derivations and interpretations of the term. For example, here is just a small part of his exegesis of a line from Bhairava: “The process of creation inheres in the ether of my heart (mama hridaya-vyomni).”

Hridayam means the final resting place, i.e. I—aham. The vyoma of that also means, by the form of the return movement of aham, i.e. ma + ha + a, the nara form, i.e. the objective phenomena represented by ma being dissolved in the dot (anusvara) over ha, enters the kundalini shakti represented by the letter ha and finally entering the a letter which represents the integral, unimpeded delight of anuttara, which is identified with all, it becomes that (anuttara). This is the ether of my heart. Therefore, that from which this universe proceeds, that in which it rests, that one alone, the eternal, the one whose nature cannot be veiled, which is self-luminous, which can never be denied, is the anuttara, the unsurpassable Absolute. (Singh, 79).

A.G. also spends pages on what might be called a “grammatical hermeneutics”—using grammatical and logical laws as evidence of certain theological points he is making. For example, he ties the first-person “I” to Shiva, the Supreme Subject; second-person language he links to Shakti; and third-person pronouns he relates to Nara (which he defines as the entire phenomenological cosmos).

Everything is an epitome of all. According to this universal principle, even the insentient third persons shedding their insentiency can become entitled to the use of second and first person. For instance, in “Listen, O Mountains,” the third person has been treated as a second person; in “Of mountains, I am Meru,” the third person has been treated as a first person; in “I, Caitra am speaking,” the first person has been treated as the third person… Each of this triad without giving up its nature, becomes of three forms: singular, dual, and plural… (Singh 73-4).

He goes on to conclude that since all languages (he mentions the languages of the Buddhists and the Dravidians) contain the three modes of address, “this manner of speech and meaning, which originally follows the instinctive feeling of the heart, conveys by its delightful impression this form [Nara, Shakti, Shiva] of understanding… So in every way this kind of comprehension is innate” (Singh, 74). A.G. ends this particular grammatical analysis (there are many) by saying, “So enough of an elaboration of a topic which can appeal to the hearts of only a few people who have received the teaching of a guru, who are of refined taste, who are well-read, who have heard from the learned people a great deal, and who have been purified by the descent of the Supreme Grace” (Singh, 74).

While some Western enthusiasts might imagine that the sexual rituals of Tantra are hot stuff, the actual ceremony of sexual intercourse, as prescribed in detail in Paratrisika-Vivarana seem designed to systematically de-emphasize any erotic elements. The couple begins by repeating 25 mantras (5 each for these body parts: skull, mouth, heart, genitals, whole body) followed by 27 mantras for “tying the tuft of hair,” then fettering the ten directions with one mantra repeated ten times. Next, they must consecrate water with 27 mantras, then sprinkle the sacred water over flowers and other objects of worship not excluding the female organ of the yogini and the male organ of the vira. Then the couple forms a seat with flowers consecrated by 14 mantras, and with more flowers pays honor to the goddess Maheshani “who is fully equipped with all the categories of existence, is decorated with all the ornaments and who is consecrated with 27 mantras… In this way, both vira and yogini should worship with supreme devotion and surrender themselves completely to her.” Then there follows an oblation of pouring melted butter over a sacrificial fire. Finally, after a long meditation on the mantra sauh (there are literally pages of hyperbolic praise about the efficacy of this mantra), one begins the “internal worship”[4] (Singh, 245-70).

Works Cited

Singh, Jaideva. A.G.: A Trident of Wisdom. Albany, NY: SUNY Press. 1989.

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[1] As noted in an earlier paper, the writings of Trika Shaivism often exhibit an intentional opaqueness, especially when treating the secretive subject of mantras.

[2] Both the Kabbalists and the Sufis also delve into the numerology of each Hebrew or Arabic word, which adds another expansive gloss to interpreting the Torah or Quran.

[3] In a translator’s note, Jaideva Singh defines paravak as the energy that sounds forth the universe: “The paravak is the paranada, the creative throb of the Divine Mind which at a lower level takes the form of sound. The energy of the paravak flows into various letters from a to ksa which as conscious forms of energy bring about the manifestation of the universe.” He adds that A.G. treats the following terms as nearly synonymous: paravak, pratibha, unmesha, anuttara, nirvikalpa samvid. (I would add to his list Shiva and aham.) A.G. uses all these terms to refer to undifferentiated, immutable, all-creative being. All determinate worlds (savikalpa) inhere in and emanate from this Supreme Source as its true expression. Therefore, A.G. treats the phenomenal universe not as illusion but as the manifest play of reality. (Singh, 79).

[4] That is, if one has not nodded off!

The Secret Supreme

Swami Lakshman Jee’s The Secret Supreme examines the central theories of the Tantric path of Kashmir Shaivism. The late swami is credited, along with the much more-famous Swami Muktananda, with a contemporary revival of Kashmir (Trika) Shaivism, especially in the West. An American disciple, John Hughes, recorded a series of talks that Jee delivered at his ashram in Kashmir in 1971-72, and the edited transcripts form the basis of The Secret Supreme.

The book opens with an explanation of the nature of the 36 tattvas, or elements that comprise the total cosmos. I will try to arrange these[1] in order of increasing subtlety, beginning with the Five Great Elements: Earth, Water, Fire, Air, and Ether (or Space). 

Next, are the Five Subtle Elements: Smell, Taste, Form, Touch, Sound. Then the Five Organs of Action: Creation, Excretion, Foot, Hand, Speech. Next, the Five Organs of Cognition: Nose, Tongue, Eye, Skin, Ear. All of these 20 elements listed so far are known as the Gross Elements. They are all objective, empirical, phenomenal. The next are a combination of objective and subjective. The first group is comprised of the Three Internal Organs: Mind, Intellect, Ego, connected with objectivity. Oddly enough, two more elements are listed in this group without further explanation of why a group labeled “three” should actually include five members. The extra members of this group are Nature (prakriti) and Ego, connected with subjectivity (purusha). Lakhsman Jee interjects here that the elements thus far listed “are the limit of the Vedantin’s understanding of the tattvas. They say there are only twenty-five tattvas. Yet in Shaivism nothing as yet has happened.” He then explains that purusha, or ego connected with subjectivity, is not a realized soul, but is bound by the next set of tattvas, the Six Coverings: Limitation of place, Limitation of time, Limitation of attachment, Limitation of knowledge, Creativity, Illusion of individuality. 

Next we come to the final set of elements, which are associated with pure subjectivity, The Five Pure Elements: I-ness in I-ness—this-ness in this-ness, this-ness in I-ness, I-ness in this-ness, I-ness (Shakti) and I-ness (Shiva). Jee explains the first of these levels as the apprehension of the pure subjectivity of Shiva, but thinking dualistically that the universe is unreal. The higher level experiences the universe not as illusion, but as one’s own expansion. The next higher level refines that realization to the experience of “I myself am this whole universe.” Rising to still purer subjectivity, the consciousness comes to subjectivity (identity) in its ultimate form: the interdependent elements of Shakti and Shiva. “The impression which comes these two tattvas is only I, the pure I, the universal I,” Jee explains. 

Finally comes the absolutely Transcendental Being, not listed in the 36 elements: Parama Shiva. Jee says that Parama Shiva (as in the Puranic conception of Brahman) is beyond all elements, yet pervades every tattva, from lowest to highest. On the Universal Shaiva Trust website, devoted to the teachings of Lakhsman Jee, a prayer by Somananda, founder of the non-dual Pratyabhijna philosophy of Trika Shaivism expresses the nature of Parama Shiva. “I, who am Shiva, bow down to my universal nature which is Shiva, by the power of Shiva, in order to remove bondage, which is Shiva.”

The next chapter in The Secret Supreme explains the objective universe as threefold, because it is composed of three paths (adhvans): gross, subtle and subtlest phenomena. This theory turns out to be essentially the same as the Mahayana theory of the Three Bodies of Buddha (Trikaya). Next comes an explanation of the theory of the alphabet (Matrikachakra), which outlines how the primordial creative sound current generates all the letters of the Devanagari alphabet, out of which the cosmos is constructed. Jee provides a long treatise that is a bit more comprehensible than Abhivanagupta’s explanation of Matrikachakra. Nothing escapes the heavy hand of meaning in this complex system. As an example, the two dots (:) of the visarga are known as the Shiva bindu and Shakti bindu, and they represent Reality and the cup-shaped mirror that is the phenomenal universe reflecting Reality.

The next chapter covers the upayas, or spiritual means of realizing Shiva. The supreme means, shambhavopaya, Jee describes as a mode of effortlessly riding on the grace of the guru. “In Shambhavopaya there are no means to travel upon. It is the meant. There is no where to go. You must reside only in the meant. The rest is automatic” (Jee, 34). In this supreme means, the grace of the master is all that is necessary. A step down from that means of enlightenment is the upaya called Shaktopaya, which is the way of energy. In this means, the aspirant is said to be more important than the master, because he must make himself capable of receiving the master’s grace. “In Saktopaya, the yogi does not have to recite mantras or be aware using his breath or concentrate on any particular spot. He has only to see to concentrate on that Supreme Being that is found between any two actions.” By maintaining unbroken awareness, one is supposed to find the reality between any two thoughts or any two movements. “He can center between one thought and another thought, between waking and dreaming, between one step and the next step, between one breath and the next breath…The saktopaya yogi must simply insert breakless awareness in the center of any two actions or thoughts” (Jee, 36).

The next lower means, anavopaya, involves techniques of concentration: on breathing, organs of sensation, contemplation, or focusing on a particular spot. In concentration on breathing, one seeks the center between the incoming breath and outgoing breath. The second concentration practice involves unbroken focus on a particular sight, or smell, etc. (This is the same method Patanjali called dharana, described in his Yoga Sutras as the sixth of the eight parts of ashtanga yoga). Contemplation (Dhyana) refers to mantra meditation, and focusing on a particular spot refers to placing the attention on any of three points: between the eyebrows, at the pit of the throat, or at the heart. A higher form of focusing on a particular spot is also described. “Sthana prakalpana is that practice where you have to find out where each aspect of reality is found in the span of the breath. You have to see where the devas are residing, whre the lokapalas are residing, where is the location of dawn, where is the location of morning, where is the location of midday, where is the location of sunset, where is the location of midnight, where is that location which is the time when the sun moves toward the Northern side, and where is that location which is the time when the sun moves to the Southern side…The practice of sthana prakalpana is simply to see the vastness of this universe in one breath” (Jee, 38). There is yet another mode beyond these three upayas—shambhavopaya, shaktopaya, and anavopaya. It is called anupaya, and this “non-method” is simply to abide in an ease of no-dilemma, which Zen calls “Buddha Mind” and Dzogchen calls “Great Natural Perfection.”  Jee explains:

       “Thoughtlessness” is called shambhavopaya. “One-pointedness” is called shaktopaya. “Concentration on and with the support of mantra and breathing and all other elements” is called anavopaya. Above all of these is anupaya. In anupaya the aspirant has only to observe that nothing is to be done. Be as you are.[2] If you are talking, go on talking. If you are sitting, go on sitting.[3] Do not do anything, only reside in your being. This is the nature of anupaya. Anupaya is attributed to ananda shakti of Shiva, so is also called anandopaya (Jee, 40).

            Trika Shaivites (and Indian mystics in general) seem to enjoy analyzing things to death: How do I love thee? Let me list the categories. Most of the chapter titles in The Secret Supreme reflect this joy of categorization: Thirty-Six Elements, Six-Fold Path of the Universe, Three Impurities, Seven States of Seven Perceivers, Seven Processes of Seven Perceivers, Five Great Acts of Lord Shiva, Five States of the Individual Subjective Body, Five-Fold Contacts of Masters and Disciples, Seven States of Turya.

             When Lakhsman Jee insists that Vedantins are mistaken in counting only 25 elements, because every good Shaivite knows there are actually 36, he seems to miss the point that these categories are not necessarily ontological, but only abstract. Consider this: Does my hand consist of a single element (the whole hand), or is it actually comprised of six elements (the five phalanges, plus the palm)? Or is my hand, in fact, made up of countless elements (14 knuckles, dozens of tendons, hundreds of blood vessels, millions of cells, trillions of molecules, zillions of atoms, etc.)?

            Having said that, I must now add that the chapter, “Seven States of Turya” describes the movement of kundalini during meditation better than any other account I have come across. The congruency with my own familiarity with the kundalini experience is uncanny, and here I will quote Swami Jee at great length:

                        When you concentrate in continuity with great reverence, with love, affection, and devotion, then your breath becomes very subtle and fine. Automatically you breathe very slowly. At that moment you experience giddiness. It is a kind of intoxicating mood. And when, during this experience of giddiness, you do not destroy your alertness of concentration, this giddiness becomes firm and stable. This is the second state of turya known as nirananda which means “devoid of limited bliss”…In entering this junction the aspirant enters into another world. It is not wakefulness, nor is it the dreaming state, nor is it sound sleep. This world is the fourth world…At that moment the aspirant hears hideous sound[4] and sees furious forms. Those aspirants who are worried by these things try at once to come out from this state and after exerting great effort they come out and are again in the waking state. On the other hand, there are those aspirants who try to tolerate these hideous and terrible things. For example, he may experience that the whole of the house has collapsed on him, or he may experience that there is a fire burning outside and this fire will burn everything including himself. These experiences, if endured and tolerated, will pass away…[5] Here only one thing is predominant and must be maintained and that is breathing. The aspirant must breathe in and out with devotion and great love towards his Self, which means breathing in and out while reciting the name of the Lord, etc. He may actually think that he is going to die, that he is really gone…All of these experiences occur when the aspirant desires to move from individuality to universality because individuality has to be shaken off…

                        If you continue with tolerance, breathing and internally reciting your mantra…then these terrible sounds and forms vanish and pulling and pushing in your breathing passage begins to occur… This state is called parananda which means “the bliss of breathing.” When you breathe in and out with great divinity it is not ordinary breathing. Here your breathing becomes full of bliss and joy even though you are experiencing the fact that your breath is about to stop.[6]

                       

        If you continue your practice with intense devotion in continuity your breath does stop…The aspirant feels that his breath is neither moving out nor coming in. He feels that his breath is winding round and round a central passage. This state is called bhramananda which means “that bliss which is all pervading.”… Then after some time yawning[7] takes place or his mouth becomes crooked just like at the time of death. These stages are the same stages which take place when your breath has stopped and you are about to die… The apprehension of death then arises in the mind of this yogi. He feels now that he is really dying. He is not afraid, he is apprehensive. This is the kind of death which takes place when individuality dies and universality takes birth. It is not a physical death, it is a mental death. The only thing the yogi must do here is shed tears of devotion. He must pray for the experience of universal “I”…

                        [After breathing has stopped] your prana immediately rushes down in the central vein. Your breath is “sipped” down…The gate of the central vein madhyanadi [sushumna] opens at once and your breath reaches down to the bottom to that place called muladhara. This state of turya is called mahananda which means “the great bliss.” After mahananda no effort is required by the aspirant. From this point on, everything is automatic…You must put your force of devotion without knowing what is to happen next. You cannot use your mantra because when your breath is gone your mind is also gone, as the mind has become transformed into cit [unqualified consciousness]. Here breathing takes the form of force (vega). It is this vega which pierces and penetrates muladhara cakra so that you pass through it.

                        When the penetration of muladhara cakra is complete then this force rises in another way. It is transformed and becomes full of bliss, full of ecstasy, and full of consciousness. It is Divine. You feel what you are, actually. This is the rising of cit kundalini which rises from the muladhara chakra to that place at the top of the skull known as brahmarandhra. It occupies the whole [central] channel just like a bloom. This state, which is the sixth state of turya, is called cidananda, the “bliss of consciousness.”

                        This force then presses the passage of the skull [brahmarandhra] piercing the skull to move from the body to the universe. This takes place automatically, it is not to be done. And when this brahmarandhra is pierced then at once you begin to breathe out. You breathe out for only a second, exhaling from the nostrils. After exhaling everything is over and you are again in cidananda and you again experience and feel the joy of rising which was already present. This lasts only for a moment and then you breathe out again. When you breathe out your eyes are open and for a moment you feel that you are outside. You experience the objective world, but in a peculiar way. Then once again your breathing is finished and your eyes are closed and you feel that you are inside. Then again your eyes are open for a moment, then they close for a moment, and then they again open for a moment. This is the state of krama mudra, where transcendental “I” consciousness is beginning to be experienced as one with the experience of the objective world. The establishment of krama mudra is called jagadananda which means “universal bliss.” This is the seventh and last stage of turya[8] (Jee, 109-17).

            In a subsequent chapter Lakhsman Jee compares the non-dual philosophy of Kashmir Shaivism with the more widely known non-dual philosophy of Advaita Vedanta. He emphasizes what I regard as the most important difference between these two schools: their understanding regarding the reality of the material universe. Vedanta holds that the phenomenal worlds are figments of maya; all worlds are illusion and do not really exist. Concerning this point Jee writes, “Kashmir Shaivism argues that if Lord Shiva is real, then how could an unreal substance come out from something that is real? Kashmir Shaivism explains that the existence of this universe is just as real as the existence of Lord Shiva”[9] (Jee, 106). Another important difference is that Advaita Vedanta does not recognize kundalini yoga, or the Advaitins say kundalini yoga is an inferior path. Trika Shaivism, on the other hand, promotes kundalini yoga as the most effective means of divine realization.[10

Jee goes on to mention another significant difference between Trika Shaivism and Advaita Vedanta, on the question of who is fit to practice the teaching. He points out that Sankaracharya insisted that only sanyassins were qualified to practice Vedanta, and women and castes below the Brahmins were unsuited to attain its fruits. By contrast, Trika Shaivism teaches that its path can be practiced and realized by anyone, and several of its most important teachers, including one of Lakhsman Jee’s own gurus, were women. “In fact, our Shaivism teaches us that this thought can be practiced more fruitfully by women than by men” (Jee, 107).

Works Cited

Jee,  Swami Lakhshman. Kashmir Shaivism: The Secret Supreme. Albany, NY: SUNY

Press (under the imprint of The Universal Shaiva Trust). 1988.

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[1] I say “try,” because the book gives some lists in order from gross-to-subtle and other lists in order from subtle-to-gross—without any labeling of which is which, leaving it to the astute reader to guess. It’s easy to decide when you go from Earth to Ether. But what about some of these other lists? I leave it to my own astute reader to check if I have listed these elements in correct ascending order.

[2] “Be as you are” is what Ramana Maharshi repeatedly advocated, and is the title of a book of his teachings.

[3] “When talking, just talk. When sitting, just sit.” (Seung Sahn, Korean Zen teacher.) Also: “No need to add a head on top of your head.” (Dogen, patriarch of Soto Zen).

[4] Somewhat like being in the center of a thundercloud.

[5] My theory is that these are archetypal apocalyptic visions, generated by the psyche just before the “death” of ego. My personal favorite is when I saw an entire football stadium, filled with spectators, swallowed up by a hole that opened below in the earth in the shape of a perfect delta (hint: trikona devi), then covered over by a grassy field of green leaving no trace that the people had ever existed. While enduring these terrible visions the subjective experience is, oddly enough, blissful. It is the awful bliss of the “fear of God.” Nowadays, I do not often suffer these visions prior to ego-dissolution, I usually just melt away as easy as you please.

[6] Yes, even though it feels like being squeezed to death, the experience is blissful.

[7] Not sleepy yawns, but huge, jaw-cracking, leonine yawns, as in “simhasana,” the lion pose.

[8] Abhinavagupta, Sri Aurobindo, Ramana Marharshi and Da Avabhasa explain this transition as the passage from nimilana samadhi, the introverted absorption in God, to unmilana samadhi, the extroverted stage of God-realization. The stable realization of jagadananda is synonymous with unmilana samadhi, (which Maharshi and Avabhasa call sahaja samadhi). Jee says, “Shiva is the state of cidananda, and Parama Shiva is the state of jagadananda” (Jee, 117).

[9] Even Advaitins sometimes skirt around this tricky issue, as with Ramana Maharshi’s oft-quoted paradox: “Brahman alone is real. The world is unreal. Brahman is the world.”

[10] Trika Shaivism categorizes (of course!) Kundalini Yoga into three modes: Para Kundalini Yoga is supreme and is generated by Shiva within His universal body, not the individual body. Chit Kundalini Yoga is Kundalini in consciousness, and Prana Kundalini Yoga is kundalini in breath.

Annotated Bibliography on Kashmiri Shaivism

Jee, Swami Lakhshman. Kashmir Shaivism: The Secret Supreme. Albany, NY: State University

of  New York Press (under the imprint of The Universal Shaiva Trust). 1988.

This swami, now deceased, is credited (along with the more-famous Swami Muktananda) with a contemporary revival of Kashmir Shaivism, especially in the West.

Muktananda, Swami. Secret of the Siddhas. South Fallsburg, NY. SYDA Foundation. 1994.

            In his later years, Swami Muktananda became increasingly interested in Kashmir

Shaivism, in which he found a theoretical framework coherent with his advanced yogic

experiences. This book is Muktananda’s presentation of Kashmir Shaivism.

Muller-Ortega, Paul. The Triadic Heart of Siva: Kaula Tantrism of Abhinavagupta in the

Non-Dual Shaivism of Kashmir. Albany, NY: SUNY Press, 1989.

I’ve already read this, but I’m going to begin my study by reading it again, because it is well-written and accessible.

---- “On the Seal of Shambhu: A Poem by Abhinavagupta.”

I photocopied this 14-page chapter from an anthology on Tantra. Only God knows the title of the book I captured it from (or as it says in the Rig-Veda, “perhaps even God does not know!”).

Sen Sharma, Deba Brata. The Philosophy of Sadhana With Special Reference to the Trika

Philosophy of Kashmir. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press. 1990.

This book is from the SUNY Series in Tantric Studies, edited by Paul Muller-Ortega.

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.

The book is translated from the French original, and belongs to the SUNY Series in the Shaiva Traditions of Kashmir.

Singh, Jaideva. Pratyahijnahridayam: The Secret of Self-recognition. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass,

1987. Jaideva Singh is a devotee of Lakshman Jee, considered the last living adept of Kashmiri Shaivism. This work is a digest of the Pratyabhijna system of Kashmiri Shaivism.

---- Abhinavagupta: A Trident of Wisdom. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press.

1989. A translation of Abhinavagupta’s Paratrisika-Vivarana, from the SUNY Series in Tantric Studies, edited by Paul Muller-Ortega. I am understandably fascinated with Abhinavagupta himself, and perhaps this book will provide a hagiography on the adept.

----  Shiva Sutras: The Yoga of Supreme Identity. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1982.

---- Spanda Karikas. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1980.

---- Vijnanabhairava or Divine Consciousness. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1981.

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 11^th-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.

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[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.

Bi-Spiritual?

I mentioned to my wife the epithets of the Goddess in hymns by the Kashmiri sage Abhivanagupta, in which he addresses her as “Fair-hipped One,” and “Lady of Fair Hips.” Margaret’s comment (a midwife’s perspective) is that women with wide hips are able to give birth more easily—therefore, such epithets invoke the Goddess as a fertility image.

Victory to the Mother reads well. I love the poem that praises the Divine Mother: “O one whose hands and feet are everywhere, whose eyes, head and mouth are everywhere…etc.” I have always liked this image of “the Cosmic Person with infinite eyes,” which I have come across in other hymns. Friends of mine recently had a baby boy and I sent a congratulatory haiku:

Wide-open Buddha

Milky Way has two new eyes!

Moon glow on fresh snow.

In the introduction to Seeking Mahadevi, Ruth Erndl writes, “The statement ‘God is a woman,’ simply would not have the shock value for Hindus that it would for Christians, Jews or Muslims.” I was raised as a Jew, and I first came across the conception of the divine as Mother when I was nineteen and I read Yogananda’s Autobiography of a Yogi. It struck a deep chord in me that has never stopped reverberating.  Maybe that is why, even though I had practiced Zen for twenty years and had never performed any kundalini yoga techniques, the life-energy ignited in me spontaneously when I was 41, while simply standing on my balcony musing about the divine. For several months, it took me on an irrepressible tour through the chakra system (what a ride!) and it has been a felt and potent force in my body-mind ever since. I have turned to the study of kundalini and Goddess worship retrospectively as a way of better understanding my own psychophysical process. At the same time, I have remained grateful to my Western scientific heritage (that is, I have not abandoned the metaphors of science in favor of the metaphors of religion, but have tried to glean the truth in both descriptions of reality). Therefore, it is not without sympathetic devotion that I have read academic textbooks about Ma Shakti. This is one of the reasons their tendency toward scholarly dryness is both frustrating and humorous to me. Victory to the Mother offers a more experiential tone, and it was fun reading about pilgrimage adventures.

Ruth Erndl defines Shaktism as “the worship of Sakti, the primordial power underlying the universe, personified as a female deity who is the Supreme Being, the totality of all existence. As such, it stresses the dynamic quality of the deity as both deluding and saving power.” Maya is both the power that deludes through identification with its endless forms, and the power that reveals the emptiness of all forms (and the mysterious identity of form and emptiness). As I said in an earlier paper, ya gotta love that gal!

 I enjoyed Erndl’s exposition of Goddess theology—“a kind of monism in which matter and spirit are not differentiated but are a continuity subsumed within sakti, the dynamic feminine creative principle…Shakta theology understands sakti, identified with the Great Goddess, to be the ultimate reality itself and the totality of being.” The greatest gift that Shakta traditions offer us, in my opinion, is this vision of the unity of consciousness and world. Not the doctrine that reality is reflected in the universe, which makes of the universe a phantom, an illusion, a stepped-down imitation; but the intuition that Reality is being the universe, which enjoys the whole universe as the body of spirit, the incarnation of the Beloved. Put another way, the former view (Advaita Vedanta, etc.) generates a longing for return to reality (as if the purpose of life is to return to its source.) Whereas, in the latter vision, source is never absent, but only present. Therefore, there is no dilemma, and we are free to love this. As they say in Zen, “Just this much.”

This brings to mind a Hasidic tale of a poor woodsman who fell in love with the King’s daughter when he came upon her bathing in a river. He declared his love to her with such passion and sincerity she was moved to tears. “Lover,” she said, “it is only in the cemetery that I will one day be able to join with you.” She meant, of course, that only in death could a princess and a woodsman become equals. Nevertheless, the young man, beside himself with adoration, took her words literally and went to the cemetery to wait for the princess to appear.

Day after day, as he waited, he thought of nothing but his beloved, contemplating her lovely form and qualities. This led him to feel grateful to her ancestors, who had made possible her birth, and to meditate on all the elements that supported her life. His appreciation expanded to include vaster spheres of being that gave life to the woman he loved, until, at last, it seemed to him that the One who was his Beloved was the very universe itself.

Kabir points to this understanding when he asks in one of his poems, “O tell me: Who have you loved your whole life long?”

Along these same lines, Erndl speaks of the sakti pithas, and “the worldview that the Earth itself is considered sacred and the deity embodies herself in earthly form.” Morinis says, “even at the most lowly, form-bound level, the goddess is simultaneously her cosmic, formless self, and in that cosmic, characterless aspect, she is still Durga, Kali, Tara, Uma and the rest.” You then comment, “This paradox defies distinctions between monotheism and polytheism, spirituality and materialism, ‘great’ and ‘little’ traditions.” Wonderful! For years, I have regarded myself “bi-spiritual” because I seem to relate equally well to non-theisms, like Zen, and devotional theisms, like Devi bhakti.

Seeing spirit as matter, and consciousness as every natural process, it becomes easy to agree with Neem Karoli Baba’s saying: “The best form is which to worship God is every form.”