Psychic and Material Symbols

A Question of Reality

The Tantric use of symbols involves a mystery — one that is rare and curious, though possibly not without parallels in other forms of mysticism. There are symbols and symbols, those employed to convey knowledge to others and those required for penetrating to the utmost depths of one’s own consciousness. The Vajrayāna symbols range from straightforward diagrams, shapes, and objects devised for teaching purposes to something altogether different — symbols seemingly endowed with life, which hover on the frontier between symbolic entities and actual beings who are scarcely distinguishable from gods and goddesses. These are the hundred deities of the MazTala who are held to exist simultaneously in the mind and body of every individual. That these lively deities belong to a chapter on symbols and form no part of the pantheon of “real deities” such as the gods of the mountains and streams will presently become, not altogether clear, perhaps, but more or less comprehensible.

The whole range of Tantric symbols can be arbitrarily divided into three broad categories: the straightforward teaching aids, which, because they are relatively less important, have been left to the end of the chapter; the extraordinary living symbols, which defy really satisfactory explanation; and a middle category, which resemble diagrams designed for teaching purposes but are less straightforward than they seem because there are grounds for supposing them to be spontaneous productions of the human consciousness and not deliberate inventions. Since the different categories are closely interconnected and have undoubtedly influenced one another’s development, I have not been able to arrange my examples so that each category is dealt with in turn, but it may be well to introduce the subject by defining them.

What may be classified as symbolic objects purposely devised or else borrowed from other faiths for use in instruction or as reminders include the Adamantine Scepter (vajra-scepter, or dorje) and the chörten (chöden), or reliquary tower, the appearance of which can be seen from the illustration at the end of this chapter. They have many counterparts throughout the world such as royal scepters with symbolic eagles or crosses at the head, churches built in cruciform shape, and those rocket-shaped monuments that testify to man’s determination to voyage among the planets. Of the symbolic diagrams, there are some, like the Wheel of Life, that are analogous to diagrams used in the classroom to illustrate, say, semantic or mathematical problems; and others, like the MazTala designs, that seem to be not deliberate inventions but to have sprung spontaneously from the mind; it is these that form the middle category because, while the details show signs of having been consciously worked out, the general patterns can be recognized as having been arrived at instinctively. The truly extraordinary category, namely, the deities of the MazTala, does have some (generally unrecognized) counterparts outside the Vajrayāna, but opinions may vary as to whether they ought to be classified as symbols. They have all the appearance of living immortal beings, and questions as to whether these beings are real or mere symbolical entities are difficult to answer. In a mystical context, however, the distinction between “real” and “unreal” is never

sharp and perhaps not meaningful, for, if everything is held to be a creation of mind, then imaginings, dreams, and material objects are seen to be much more alike than would otherwise be the case: indeed, it follows logically from the premise that their natures are identical. Once we accept the doctrine that the entire universe is mentally created, we are bound to recognize all sentient beings, including ourselves, as partakers in the act of creation; viewed one way, our minds are, to all intents and purposes, individual entities; viewed another, they are indivisible from universal Mind. It follows that distinctions between the products of a man’s private thought and the objects in his environment — themselves products of creative mind — have only relative validity. From the first point of view, which is that of a man in what most of us have come to regard as his ordinary, or natural, state of consciousness, horses are animals existing independently of whether we choose to think of them or not, whereas dragons and unicorns exist while they are in our thoughts and vanish as soon as we turn our minds to something else. From the alternative point of view, which is held by mystics, the horses at the nearest stable are precisely as real or unreal as the dragons and unicorns in our minds — intrinsically, all of them are void (Śūnya).

Now, the MazTala deities, who will often appear in this book, are from the “everyday” point of view on a par with ogres, fairies, dragons, and unicorns — mere figments of imagination. Nevertheless, whether empowered solely by the devotee’s mind or not, they make a powerful impression of having a life of their own. Vajrayāna adepts are by no means unanimous as to how far the divine beings invoked during the Sādhana (visualization) practice derive from their own minds and how far they have, relatively speaking, a separate existence like the people and animals in their environment. Probably, this uncertainty arises from the instinctive tendency, even among Vajrayāna devotees, to make a distinction between their own minds and universal Mind as though there could be any real difference between, say, the waves and the sea.

Before going further into this question, it is necessary to explain why these beings (whether real or not), who resemble gods and goddesses and are to some extent treated as divine personages by their devotees, should be discussed in a chapter on symbols. After all, Christians and polytheists do not normally think of God, Jesus, or the gods as symbols. To them, the objects of their adoration are entirely real and as separate from themselves as parents from their children. However, the concept of the MazTala deities is more subtle. The higher-level explanation given by the Lamas and set forth in the sacred books is that these deities are truly products of the devotees’ minds, even though there are occasions when they spring forth uninvoked and behave autonomously. They are purely conceptual entities, though with color, form, and movement like living beings. The reason for their existence is that there are certain levels of consciousness that cannot

be reached by the ordinary processes of logical thought. The deities of the MazTala are, so to speak, instruments for communication between those levels and the “normal,” or everyday, state of consciousness.

This explanation, taken by itself, would suggest that long ago some Lama (or, more probably, some learned Ācārya [[[teacher]]] at Nālandā) deliberately devised beings of certain shapes, colors, etc., for people to meditate upon as a means for arriving at levels of consciousness otherwise difficult to reach. If that were so, there could be no argument about it; those deities would be symbols in exactly the same way that abstract geometric figures are symbols used to help students arrive at certain mathematical conceptions. Since the sacred books state repeatedly that the deities of the MazTala exist only in the percipient’s

mind (which deliberately pictures them as divinities), it is proper to call them symbols. In other contexts, however, there are disconcerting statements such as that, when a man comes to die, the deities of the MazTala arise from his mind and appear before him. This disposes of the idea that the deities are deliberate creations of the sages of Nālandā; for, if that were so, they would be no more likely that Euclid’s geometric figures to arise in the mind during the period that intervenes between death and incarnation. One therefore tends to try bridging the gap between the concept of symbols created for meditation purposes and that of actual gods and goddesses by ascribing the deities of the MazTala to the category of what Jung calls “archetypes,” figures existing in the minds of all men as part of humanity’s common heritage. On the other hand, Jung never spoke of archetypes as sometimes taking over control in the way that the MazTala deities are apt to do. Altogether, the precise nature of these deities is not clear; what can be said is that they exist in a very real sense for the adept skilled in evoking them.

To put the matter in a nutshell, it might be thought that a problem likely to vex many an initiate as the MazTala deities become increasingly real to him is to decide whether they are created by his own mind and cease to be as soon as he stops thinking of them; they were created long ago and have since been sustained and endowed with life by the collective mind-force of innumerable adepts; they are creations of universal Mind and exist independently of their devotees to the extent that anything in the world can be said to have a personal existence. Among Tantric Buddhists, however, such conundrums have small importance; questions about degrees of reality or modes of existence are meaningless to people who are convinced that nothing in the world exists individually except as the object of wrong perception. In that context, all that matters is how far something appears to be real; and it can be confidently affirmed that, to the skillful adept, the deity he regularly invokes becomes more real than his parents, wife, or children.

The Purpose of the Symbols and Deities

The negation of the ego and attainment of intuitive wisdom here and now is an almost superhuman task. Tantric Buddhism is a science of dynamic mind control that produces levels of consciousness deeper than conceptual thought. In describing those levels, words fail; in experiencing them, logical thought is transcended — hence, the need for symbols. Some of them, such as the symbolic ritual instruments, are mere “props” to assist in turning thought in a particular direction. Others, including the MazTala deities, prepare minds still at the ordinary level of consciousness for what will be perceived at deeper levels, thus helping to accelerate the process; much more than that, they seem to be related to powerful forces that function not only in the minds of adepts

but everywhere throughout this mentally-created universe. Though the source of their power may be inexplicable, pictures of them seen for the first time may strike even a Westerner as somehow familiar; he may recollect having encountered them before in visions, dreams, and legends. That many of these symbols and/or divine beings are not the arbitrary creations of the Lamas has been borne out in recent years by evidence from at least two sources. Jungian psychologists know their habitat to be what they call the “collective unconscious:” Jung’s patients, though ignorant of oriental mysticism, drew, from their own minds, patterns essentially the same as those of the Yinyang circle and of the MazTalas. Still more recently, users of LSD and mescaline have encountered, in the recesses of their own consciousness, not only elaborate abstract symbols closely in accord with the Tibetan MazTalas but also beings who are recognizable counterparts of the MazTala deities.

Whatever the explanation, the evocation of the MazTala and its deities is the means by which the Tantric adept conjures up and unites himself with the forces needed for the rapid destruction of his ego. Therein lies their inestimable value. Whether their power is divine, magical, or purely psychological does not affect the practical results achieved.

A Pre-Tantric Parallel

The ancient Yinyang symbol of the Chinese Daoists (Taoists) makes a useful introduction to what will be said about the Tantric symbols, because it illustrates how conclusions arrived at by experimental science have sometimes been anticipated by ancient sages who reached them intuitively by delving deep within their consciousness; moreover, it leads up to the principle underlying the Tibetan MazTala. Indeed, for that reason, it is widely known in Tibet as well as China. Though predating Buddhism, it is in perfect harmony with the Tantric conception of the universe and, as what it symbolizes has been largely corroborated by modern physicists, it is germane to our thesis, which is that such symbols are not arbitrary creations but arise spontaneously from the depths of consciousness.

More than three thousand years ago, the Chinese used the Yinyang diagram to illustrate the emergence of “the myriad objects” of the universe from a pure, undifferentiated and, therefore, formless matrix.

The circle symbolizes Tai Ji (T’ai Chi) (the Matrix), which is formless and above duality. Here, however, it is manifesting itself as the progenitor of the universe; hence it is divided into Yin (the dark) and Yang (the light), which signify the negative and positive poles exemplified by all conceivable pairs of opposites: passive and active, female and male, moon and sun, etc. Each contains within itself the seed of its own opposite (a tiny circle of the other’s color). If an infinite number of parallel lines were drawn across the circle, the spaces between them would each consist of Yin and Yang in different proportions; the meaning is that the differences between the structures of all the substances in the universe are determined by the proportion and arrangement

of negative and positive in each. This concept of structure (both physical and psychological) has many parallels in modern thought. Psychologists assert, as did the ancient Chinese sages, that all people, male or female, have within them in a certain degree characteristics properly belonging to the opposite sex, i.e., that no man is wholly male and no woman wholly female. Then again, both Hegel and Marx based their philosophies on the principle that everything contains within itself the seed of its own opposite, as illustrated in the diagram. Most interesting of all, because to some extent amenable to laboratory demonstration, is the parallel with the views of modern physicists. Besides having discovered that differences between substances are due to differences in

the atoms of which they are composed, which, in turn, depend upon the proportion and arrangement of positive and negative components, physicists now assert that matter is non-material in origin, being, in fact, a product of energy, which some of them are inclined to equate, as does Mahāyāna Buddhism, with Mind. It is fascinating to ponder, on this testimony, on the correct intuition of Chinese sages living some three or four thousand years ago. This, coupled with the fact that people unacquainted with the Yinyang symbol sometimes come across it in their own minds by introspection, makes it virtually certain that Jung was right in inferring that such symbols are man’s common possession, a part of his collective (un-)consciousness. The eight figures around the circle are of less immediate interest in this context. Their purpose is to point to the infinite number of combinations and arrangements of negative and positive which produce the endless variety of entities in the universe: -- stands for negative;  for positive.

Before coming to the exceedingly important subject of the MazTala, it will be well to examine the Tantric equivalent of this Chinese Yinyang concept, because it forms the MazTala’s basis.

The main symbol of Vajrayāna Buddhism, and one often seen on the foreheads of Buddha-statues, is a swastika, which is, in fact, an abbreviated form of a swastika in which there are four dots. These dots represent emanations from the central point at which the arms of the MazTala intersect. The arms themselves indicate that the one (matrix or void) from which the emanations have sprung embraces them, i.e., is, in reality, never apart from them. A MazTala is an intricate pattern of decorated squares and circles used as a support for instruction and meditation. This design of the MazTala is built up as follows:

This series of diagrams constitutes a greatly simplified illustration of the structure of the universe that closely accords with the more widely known Chinese Daoist (Taoist) concept. The MazTalas embodying this core are very elaborate designs based on a number of concentric squares and circles studded with “gates” and, generally, with numerous figures of Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, Vajra-Goddesses, Guardian Deities, and so forth, all contained within a circle inscribed in the form of a stylized lotus. Almost the entire surface is covered with intricate designs, all with precise symbolic meanings. (Less complicated MazTalas are either simplifications of that design or else detached sections of the grand MazTala of peaceful and wrathful deities, which is a symbolic representation of the entire universe and equally of the human body. That it can be both of these is explained by the Vajrayāna doctrine that the microcosm and macrocosm are of identical construction.)

MazTalas are sometimes drawn in color on the ground; but, in these days, scroll paintings are more widely used, since they can be rolled up and kept for future initiations. The diagram below shows the design of a fairly (but not very) intricate MazTala reduced to its barest essentials.

The outermost circle, painted in lotus form, represents the universe’s periphery. In his meditation, the adept envisions a lotus unfolding in his heart that then magically expands to become the universe. The middle circle contains five Buddha-figures called Jinas (Conquerors, not “Dhyāni Buddhas” as some Western writers would have it, for that is a term used only in Nepal). They are arranged thus, with one in the center and one at each compass point. (In some MazTalas, each of them would be attended by two Bodhisattvas.) This part of the MazTala signifies the core of the universe, i.e., the fivefold emanation of wisdom-energy from the Void (equated with pure Mind). It will be noted that the form in the center, or core, is repeated in all the other circles, thus making each of them a replica of the larger pattern to which it belongs; this is to signify the interpenetration of all things, the identity of microcosm and macrocosm. Each of the little circles drawn in one of the concentric squares is, in the original from which the diagram was taken, a Bodhisattva-figure and the four in the gateways are Guardian Divinities. If the MazTala were more elaborate, there might be hundreds of other divinities placed in appropriate positions.

Such MazTalas are intended to reveal the pattern of secret forces that operate in sentient beings and in the universe at large; they express the emanative nature of existence. Nirvāza and Sagsāra being one, in their non-void form, both are permeated by those forces; in their void form, there cannot, of course, be a multiplicity. To deal with the MazTala in detail would require a whole book; what is essential is its core, and this is reproduced in diagrams 3A to 3D. Each of the Buddha-figures, or Jinas, in the four circles grouped around the fifth symbolizes a particular type of wisdom-energy emanating from the undifferentiated wisdom-energy of the central Jina, which is called Pure Absolute Wisdom.

Diagram 3A gives the Sanskrit names of the five Jinas, or wisdom-energy-aspects, of the Buddha principle. These names vary, however, according to the sect for which the MazTala was constructed. The one in the center is sometimes interchanged with the one to the east, or another name substituted, in which case the two Buddha-forms are suitably altered. Those to the south, west, and north seldom vary. Diagram 3B shows that the five Jinas are easily distinguishable from one another, even if reproduced separately from the MazTala, for their colors, symbols, and the positions of arms, hands and fingers are different for each one.

Diagram 3C indicates the kind of wisdom inherent in each emanation; this is of special importance, since these five wisdoms are none other than the five aggregates of being and the five kinds of sense-perception transmuted into liberating wisdom as a result of progress along the path. Diagram 3D gives a few more details by which each of the five Jinas can be distinguished, whether depicted in a MazTala or separately. The Jinas are equated with many sets of concepts besides those mentioned, e.g., Bījas (seed-syllables), realms of existence, types of evil to be remedied, elements, seasons, times of day, tastes, bodily functions, kinds of symbolical offering — there is no end to the list, for the Tibetans love to fit as many concepts as possible into the MazTala.

It will be recalled that many of the Tantric symbols are held to be universal symbols proceeding from the depths of consciousness and not created for convenience like the diagrams with which, say, a biologist illustrates his lectures. As Professor Tucci puts it:

“Such visions and flashing apparitions occur through some intrinsic necessity of the human spirit [and MazTalas] assume definite forms with rays, flowers, round and square patterns about a luminous central fountain. Men by introspection discovered these things by reflecting on them, and then, combining them with cosmological conceptions, fixed their pattern in regular paradigms.”

This opinion can be substantiated. Though the details (Jinas, etc.) are, of course, of purely Buddhist significance, it is easily seen that the essentials of the design are universally present in the human consciousness. The cross (a religious symbol much older than Christianity) and the ancient Hindu swastika are both representations of the MazTala’s core; and those familiar with that fivefold design will recognize it in varied contexts all over the world. When a neophyte is initiated into a great MazTala drawn upon the ground, he is led step by step towards the center and instructed more deeply in its mysteries as he goes. Perhaps, at intervals of a few years, he will be reintroduced to the MazTala so that the whole mystery can be revealed to him at a higher level of understanding. Gradually, he becomes more fully aware of the forces governing existence and learns to master them; thereafter, the world-creating urge that has been driving him deeper and deeper into delusion is reversed, and the same energy is utilized for the attainment of Liberation. The first step is to project the forces into a form that can be visualized in the adept’s mind. The next is to discover how he can conform with them and make them serve him. Thus, his primeval consciousness is reintegrated and recovers its integrity.

In considering the MazTala, it should be remembered that, though symbolism requires name and form, what is symbolized here is formless. Hence, there are no hard and fast rules. We have seen that the names given to some of the all-important central figures vary from sect to sect. On the other hand, the essentials of the general pattern remain unchanged, for it proceeds from a level of consciousness deeper than that of controlled imagination. A great deal of information on MazTalas will be found in Professor Tucci’s The Theory and Practice of the MazTala and also in Lama Govinda’s Foundations of Tibetan Mysticism. The latter, as its name implies, is written from the point of view of a Buddhist mystic, whereas Professor Tucci’s work would perhaps be of greater interest to people not specifically concerned with a purely Buddhist interpretation.

The Peaceful and Wrathful Deities of the MazTala

The wisdom-energy symbols at the MazTala’s center are depicted in a number of forms; that is to say, there are several different sets of Jinas. The most widely used is the group of Jinas in their peaceful Body of Transformation aspect. Except for their gestures and colors, they all look very much like ordinary Buddha paintings. If the Body of Bliss aspects are shown instead, they are easily recognizable by elaborate head-gear and a profusion of ornaments, but the colors and gestures remain as in the first set. The Dharma-Body aspect is rarely depicted at all. Being formless, the Dharma-Body is impossible to portray satisfactorily, and it could not have five aspects. Occasionally, however, it is symbolized by a shadowy blue naked figure seated above the central Jina to represent the Dharma-Body of all the Jinas together.

In some MazTalas, the Jinas are shown in Yab-Yum form to represent the five kinds of energy (Jinas) interacting with the five kinds of wisdom (their partners). The female forms have the following names: the Sovereign Lady of the Void (center), the All-Seeing (east), the No-Otherness (south), She of the White Raiment (west), and the Savioress (north). The first and third names are self-explanatory; the second is a synonym for Buddha-Wisdom; the fourth suggests the Void, white being the nearest approach to no color; and the fifth means, of course, Liberation. The Bodhisattvas, Vajra-Goddesses, and other deities which sometimes surround the central figures are all symbols of abstract qualities, and a Lama learned in such matters could explain the psychic significance of every one of them.

Sometimes, all the figures in the MazTala are depicted in wrathful aspect; with haloes of flame, gruesome ornaments, and hideous mien, they dance upon corpses. In this form, the MazTala portrays the universe with the five wisdoms clouded by the passions and delusions of sentient beings, which result from the operation of Avidyā (Ignorance). The terrifying figures no doubt closely resemble the fierce gods and demons of pre-Buddhist Tibet; but it would be wrong to suppose that they typify divine wrath, for their functions are quite unlike those of medieval Christian demons. Their purpose is not to torture sinners but to overcome evil. Their clenched teeth and ferocious expressions are those of beings exerting all their strength in the battle against passion and delusion; their weapons are for cutting off defilements (Kleśas, or karmic accretions), and the corpses beneath their feet are the passions they have slain. Furthermore, these wrathful forms are essential to the Tantric concept of non-duality; beauty and ugliness are two aspects of every object of perception. Yet another reason for them is the belief that, when a man dies, he can spend up to forty-nine days in the bardo, or intermediate state, that precedes rebirth; during that time, he will encounter thought-forms emanating from his own consciousness that will have the appearance of the wrathful deities. Familiarity with the MazTala will help disperse his fear of them.

During a Sādhana, the deity visualized is one of those who appear in the grand circle of peaceful and wrathful deities, each of whom corresponds to some aspect of consciousness and is the antidote for one of the karmic accretions such as passions, desires, and evil tendencies. All proceed from mind, though we have seen that it is not always clear whether they are thought of as creations of the adept’s own mind, which arise only in response to his invocation, or whether they are held to emanate like external beings and objects from mind itself and to that extent have an independent existence. This is a question that is not easy to discuss with the Lamas because they make no distinction between individual minds and Mind. They would be likely to reply that, since only Mind is real, there can be no such distinction. Yet to my cruder way of thinking, there is, relatively speaking, a genuine difference. I sincerely believe that my

individuality is illusory, but I cannot help feeling like a person, and it seems to me that I act like one. Therefore, I tend to make a distinction between an imagined object created by, so to speak, my own mind, and an object, albeit created by Mind, which would be there for other people whether I were awake or asleep, alive or dead. However, this distinction obviously results from my imperfect comprehension of the doctrine of the illusory nature of all objects. What is of great practical importance to the adept is that the beings evoked during a Sādhana — whatever their origin and nature — do in fact function in the way expected of them. Whether Jove existed in the same way that Pythagoras did can have been of small importance to a Greek who received a cup of nectar or a fiery thunderbolt from that deity’s hands. Now, though deities evoked during a Sādhana do not actually conjure cups of nectar from the air or hurl real thunderbolts at breakers of the Samaya-pledge, they do alleviate spiritual thirst, help in the achievement of special states of consciousness, and impose

psychological punishment on those who break the pledge. In other words, regardless of the extent of their reality, invoking them is effective. Another problem concerns the five Jinas. The five wisdom aspects of the Buddha principle, or urge to Enlightenment, are naturally represented by Buddha-forms; but when the word energy is introduced, there is a danger that the symbolism will be misunderstood. It is a fundamental tenet of Buddhism that the Buddha principle did not create but is the Conqueror (Jina) of Sagsāra; now, if the Jinas are regarded as symbols of five forms of energy proceeding from the center and subdividing to produce all the mental creations that constitute the abstract and concrete contents of the universe, there is, on the face of it, a contradiction of that tenet.

This is a problem I did not raise with my Lamas, so I am bound to rely on my own interpretation, whatever that is worth. It is as follows. Mind, which manifests itself as wisdom, is intrinsically void; yet everything proceeds from it and is, therefore, Mind’s creation, and the same applies to the energy that makes creation possible. The Buddha principle can rightly be equated with mind = wisdom = energy. So it could be said that everything real is Buddha-created. However, there would have to be a very important proviso to that statement, namely, that what is created is, like its progenitor, void. That we perceive it as non-void and imperfect is due not at all to the Buddha principle but to the (admittedly unaccountable) action of Avidyā. Thus, the wisdom-energy creation is void (Nirvāzic in nature); it is our perception of it that is non-void (Sagsāric).

Therefore, though the existence of Nirvāza-Sagsāra is due to the play of wisdom-energy, the Sagsāric aspect results from delusion, which is certainly not a creation of the Buddha principle. To put it very simply: the void universe is a Buddha creation; the plenum is a creation of our minds. In practice, this means that when beings err, they are utilizing a void-created energy, but that energy has been clouded by Avidyā and is, therefore, used improperly. It will be remembered that each of the Jinas stands not only for a kind of wisdom-energy but also for one kind of faulty sense perception to be remedied. It follows that these two are in essence the same, the first free of Avidyā, the second distorted by Avidyā. The purpose of the MazTala is to set men face to face with

this fact prior to teaching them how to convert their five energies from their present clouded form to the pure wisdom-form that brings Enlightenment. However, by and large, the Lamas are not concerned with such metaphysical arguments but with practice leading to Enlightenment. They employ the MazTala to illustrate existence at whichever level is best suited to the intelligence of the disciples they are instructing. In considering Buddhism in general, but especially Tantric Buddhism, it should be remembered that the prime concern is practice. If something is conducive to spiritual advancement, it is good; whether the theory behind it is properly understood or not matters much or little according to the extent to which that understanding affects the quality and direction of the practice. True, Buddhism is a religion that vaunts reason, but it is reasonable for a man to use the electric light in his dwelling whether he understands how the current is produced or not. In my view, this analogy is very pertinent to the evocation of Tantric deities. Their power is there to use whether we understand their nature or not.

Of the deities other than the Jinas and their attendant Bodhisattvas who represent, respectively, the primary and secondary emanations of wisdom-energy, there are two especially important orders of being, the Dākinīs and the Yidams — though, strictly speaking, the Yidams do not form an order of their own, since any of the peaceful and wrathful deities can be adopted as a Yidam.

The Dākinīs, who are always portrayed in female form, play a great part in an individual’s attainment of Enlightenment, for they are, in fact, the forces welling from within himself by which he is driven to master the hostile array of cravings, passions, and delusions and transform them into the winged steeds that will carry him forward to Enlightenment. In metaphysical terms, it might be said that a man’s Dākinī is the universal urge to Enlightenment as it acts in him. The Dākinīs are often ferocious in appearance; with their terrifying expressions and gruesome ornaments, they are reminiscent of the dread Hindu goddess, Durga. Often, their terrible bodies are unclothed, and some have such unusual characteristics as a single leg and eye. Possibly, the iconographers are, as Dr. Snellgrove suggests, following a tradition that goes back to the primitive beliefs current in pre-Buddhist days in the part of the Himalayas lying

to the west of Tibet. If so, when someone from another part of the world beholds a Dākinī during his meditations, she may appear in some very different guise; whereas Tibetans, expecting to see them in the forms portrayed by the iconographers, behold them so. In any case, it is usual for an adept to take to himself one of the Dākinīs as his personal symbol of communication with divine wisdom; by uniting with her, he penetrates to the true meaning of doctrines too profound to yield their secrets at the everyday level of consciousness. I have received no first-hand instruction about the Dākinīs, because, like most of the devotees whose Yidams (guardians) are female, I was taught to treat my Yidam also as my Dākinī. The female Yidams generally have a lovely beneficent appearance sharply at variance with traditional conceptions of the Dākinīs. What can be said in general is that the Dākinīs are the symbolic forms in which the yearning for Enlightenment and the means to it are pictured for certain meditational purposes.

The Yidams are deities adopted by individuals as their personal mentors and guardians. When an initiate enters upon the path, his Lama will select for him a Yidam well suited to his special requirements. If he has fierce passions to subdue, his Yidam will be one of the wrathful deities. If he is easily enslaved by the lovely forms of women or, alternatively, someone in emotional distress who needs a comforter, a female Yidam will be chosen. As a comforter, her role is obvious; in the other case, she is to be visualized as very young and very beautiful but adored with the chaste devotion that, say, a member of the royal household might lavish upon a lovely princess whom he serves. The adept may, in his imagination, be warmly intimate with his Yidam, but his love must be idealized so that, however much he is moved by her beauty, his thoughts are free from lust. The most frequently encountered Yidams of this kind are the twenty-one Tārās, each of whom has subtly different correspondences with psychic realities; it is the Green, White and Red Tārās who are usually selected. In certain types of Sādhana, the Yidam is equated with the Dākinī and even with the Guru, so that devotees of the green Tārā, for example, invoke her with the words: “Guru, Yidam, Dākinī, Mahā Ārya Tārā-yeh!” A Yidam who is also taken as a Dākinī performs a dual function during meditation; primarily, she is the urge to Enlightenment viewed as an essential part, or partner, of the adept’s own self and visualized under the aspect best suited to his stage of spiritual, intellectual, and emotional development.

All the deities considered so far are, to a greater or lesser extent, symbols either of prime universal forces proceeding directly from the Void or else of forces intimately connected with the mind of the individual adept. There is a third category, which have no proper place in the MazTala but may sometimes be depicted in its outer parts, namely, actual gods and demons belonging to the six orders of sentient beings who are, therefore, held to exist in just the same way as men, animals, and so forth. As used to be the case in medieval Europe, in Asian countries, it is taken for granted that there are all kinds of supernatural beings, the highest of which are called gods in some countries and go by less high-sounding names in others; but whether we speak of gods and demons or angels and devils, the concept is much the same: such beings are empowered to help or afflict only to a limited extent. Tibetans are no exception; they, too, pay court to supernatural beings, but only with a view to obtaining their protection or mundane favors. The gods have nothing to do with the search for Enlightenment. Buddhism, with its usual tolerance, enjoins that they should be respected and, if they are hungry, fed; in Tibet, some of the most ferocious of them have been enrolled as Guardians of the Dharma.

This attitude towards supernatural beings was delightfully illustrated by a Lama who was soon to become Abbot of Samye Ling in Scotland. Told of a druidic circle of stones in the neighborhood of his future gompa (monastery), he said thoughtfully: “One of these nights, I must go to that circle to meditate. If the local deity appears and seems well disposed, I shall perhaps invite him to become one of the Guardians of our gompa.” The resemblance between the wrathful forms of the MazTala deities and local Tibetan or Hindu deities has led to the allegation that Tibetan Buddhism is so mixed with pre-Buddhist and Hindu beliefs and practices as to merit the epithets “debased” and “polytheistic.” Dr. Snellgrove has dealt with this criticism in his book Buddhist Himalaya, where he says:

“It is interesting to observe that however great may be the divergence between the Buddhism of the early schools and the stage we have now reached, nothing new has been adopted without first ensuring that it should accord with the doctrinal position. The doctrine itself still remained consciously Buddhist and what is more remarkable still continued to do so, even when feminine partners were introduced into the system.”

Nor do the forms of the MazTala deities indicate, as is sometimes alleged, the emergence within Buddhism of theism. No deity is held responsible for the creation of Sagsāra with its billions of worlds; none can, by grace, alleviate the effects of man’s own ignorance and want of effort; every being must win Enlightenment for himself. The forces at work in the universe are visualized in plural form because, in its non-void aspect, the universe is, in fact, plural.

Buddhism has always advocated the use of expedient means to lead people to make the effort that is so vital to their well-being. The MazTala and all its deities are precisely that — expedient means for guiding sentient beings from the particular to the universal. As for supernatural beings such as the gods associated with certain mountains or localities, these have nothing to do with Buddhism. Buddhists are free to worship them or not, as they so please. In the following paragraphs, something will be said about a quite different type of symbol — solid objects that have nothing to do with visualization and are used merely to focus the thoughts on certain principles.

he Vajra or Adamantine Scepter

The Vajrayāna takes its name from Vajra (adamantine) and Yāna (vehicle). Vajra stands for a substance so hard that nothing in the universe can dent or cut it. Irresistible, invincible, shining, and clear, it is in fact the non-substance of the Void, the “substance” of the Dharma-Body of the Buddhas; and, when an adept is so close to Liberation that nothing can affect his resolution or deflect his course, it is said that he has attained a Vajra-body and become a Vajra-being. Henceforth, he can bear the strength of any psychic force as easily as the Vajra-substance, if it existed in physical form, could bear the strongest heat or the most powerful strokes of lightning. In the hope of achieving the revolution of his whole being whereby a Vajra-body is attained, many a Tibetan adept uses “Dorje” (the Tibetan equivalent of the Sanskrit Vajra) as part of his name. The Buddha principle in its purest form is called Vajrasattva, or Vajra-Being, and this is the name often given to the Buddha-form in the center or to the east of the MazTala.

In its philosophical sense, Vajra means wisdom hard and sharp as a diamond that cuts through erroneous conceptions and leads to Buddhahood. Hence, Buddhas and Bodhisattvas are called Vajradharas, Wielders of the Vajra.

The ritual implement called Vajra, or, rather, Dorje, is a scepterlike object some two or three inches long made of bronze, silver, or gold. Originally, the symbol of the Hindu deity Indra, it once signified a thunderbolt, but Buddhists no longer think of it as having this meaning. It is used in conjunction with a vajra-bell, or dorje-bell (Drilbu), the handle of which is shaped like half a vajra-scepter, as can be seen in the illustration on the preceding page. Together, they symbolize skillful means (which is equated with compassion) and the wisdom wherewith Enlightenment is won. Like the Yin and Yang, they also stand for the passive and active qualities that reach perfection only when united. The Lama holds one in each hand while performing the various Mudrās that form a part of most rites. The shape of the vajra-scepter conveys the same concept as that of the One becoming two, of the nondual revealed in countless pairs of opposites. Most of the scepters have some sort of round or cylindrical design in the center with stylized lotus blossoms facing away from it on either side. From each lotus rise five prongs, which spread out and then curve around so that the tips meet. These prongs are another way of symbolizing the five wisdom-energies of the MazTala.

When we come to discuss the Mantra Og Mazi Padme Hūg, we shall see that the two middle words mean “jewel” and “lotus” respectively. The jewel in the lotus may be taken as the truth to be found in the heart of the doctrine, and the two words have many similar pairs of meanings. The vajra-scepter can be held to represent the jewel, and the vajra-bell the lotus. Thus, besides having their own significations, they relate to the core of the MazTala and also to the famous Mantra. Tantric symbols invariably interpenetrate; again and again, one comes across symbols that hint at the meanings of other symbols and yet others, thereby symbolizing the interpenetration of every aspect of the universe. The effect of Tantric studies is like that of breaking open a ball in which is discovered a second and in that a third and so on until one comes to what seems to be a solid center; but it breaks at a touch and inside it is found precisely that ball which had originally enclosed them all; then the whole sequence is repeated again and again until Enlightenment dawns. One gets an impression of meanings within meaning and, above all, of the presence of the whole in each of its parts. This result deserves consideration by those who are at first repelled by the intricacy of Tantric symbolism. The presentation of the central truths in all sorts of interconnected ways produces a powerful impact that drives them home at various levels of consciousness.

The Wheel of Life

At the entrance to most Tibetan gompas, there is a large fresco of the Wheel of Life, which is a superb painting signifying Sagsāra as the plaything of delusion. In the center of the wheel are three creatures: (a) a cock, signifying craving and greed; (b) a snake, signifying wrath and passion; and (c) a pig, signifying ignorance and delusion. Around them is (d) a narrow circle, half of which is filled with happy-looking but rather worldly people going up, and half with naked wretches falling down. Then come (e) six segments of the circle representing the six states of existence separately (gods, Asuras, humans, animals, hungry ghosts [[[Pretas]]], and denizens of hell) or five segments, with the first two orders in the upper and lower parts of the same one. The rim (f) is divided into twelve sections, each with a picture signifying one of the links in the twelvefold chain of causality (Prātītya-samutpāda), whereby beings are ensnared life after life. The whole wheel is in the grasp of (g) a huge and hideous demon who resembles Yama the Lord of Death and wears five skulls upon his headdress. Near the top of the picture stands (h) the Buddha pointing not at the Wheel of Life, but at (i) another more simple and very beautiful wheel with eight spokes (Aśoka’s wheel), which, for more than two thousand years, has been a symbol of the Dharma, i.e., the Doctrine of the Buddha, and in another sense, Universal Law.

(a, b, and c) Three creatures: craving, wrath, and ignorance are the three fires of evil that make sentient beings the victims of Avidyā — primordial delusion. (d) As a result of relative victories or defeats in their contest with the ego, sentient beings rise or fall within Sagsāra’s round, each rise being succeeded by a fall if evil Karma is acquired in the new existence; and each fall being succeeded by a rise when the evil Karma is worked off or if the being acquires merit. All these beings endlessly revolve among the six states. (e) Conditions in each state of existence are depicted graphically. (f) The twelve links in the chain of causation (Prātītya-samutpāda) are illustrated in slightly different ways by different artists, but generally they are as follows:

1. A blind man Primordial ignorance. 2. A potter Fashioning: ignorance giving rise to elemental impulses. 3. A monkey playing Tasting good and evil: impulses, giving rise to

with a peach 	 	consciousness. 

4. Two men in a boat Personality: consciousness giving rise to name and form. 5. Six empty houses Six senses (including mind): personality giving rise to sense perception. 6. Love-making Contact: the senses giving rise to desire for contact with their objects. 7. Blinded by arrows Feelings of pleasure and pain: contact giving rise to in both eyes blind feeling. 8. Drinking Thirst: feeling giving rise to thirst for more. 9. A monkey snatching fruit Appropriation: thirst giving rise to grasping. 10. A pregnant woman Becoming: grasping giving rise to continuity of existence. 11. Childbirth Birth: birth giving rise to rebirth.

12. A corpse Decay: rebirth giving rise to renewed death and further rounds of birth and death for ever and ever.

(g) Yama, Lord of Death, represents Avidyā, with the entire universe in its clutch. Merely rising from one state to another, even though it be to the heavenly bliss of the gods (Devas), brings no release from delusion’s grasp; sooner or later, the gods will tumble back into the more unsatisfactory states — no permanent gain accrues from utilizing merit to procure a favorable rebirth. The five skulls in Yama’s headdress represent the five senses, the five illusory perceptions, the five kinds of wrongdoing, the five aggregates of being — the very opposites of all that is personified by the five Jinas at the core of the MazTala. (h and i) The Buddha points to a proper understanding of the Doctrine and conformance with Universal Law as the only way to Liberation. Sentient beings have a choice between eons of suffering and Nirvāza’s bliss, the fruit of Enlightenment.

Among the many lessons to be learned from contemplating this symbol is the futility of piling up good works without making a genuine spiritual advance. Good works at best qualify people for transient joys in the highest of the six states of existence, where they are still subject to Du­kha, even if it is in the form of general dissatisfaction rather than acute suffering. Heaven offers no permanent way out of Du­kha in its severest forms. Moral action is admirable in itself; it benefits both doer and recipient, but it does not lead to the conquest of delusion. If the benefits of a virtuous life are to be lasting, there must be a revolution of the consciousness that goes far beyond morality and piety.

The Chörten

Chörtens (chödens) are reliquary towers. The smallest, which are about one foot high, are used on private altars together with a statue and a sacred text to represent the Buddha’s three faculties of Body, Speech, and Mind, with the chörten signifying BuddhaMind. The largest are huge bottle-shaped towers that may be more than a hundred feet high and contain relics of Śākyamuni Buddha or of some great sage. Between these two extremes are chörtens from ten to fifty feet high that are sometimes used to mark sacred spots and sometimes to house the ashes of departed Lamas. It is the custom to walk round chörtens in a clockwise direction, thus keeping the right shoulder always towards them, which was the traditional way in which Śākyamuni’s disciples showed him respect. The evolution of Buddhist sacred towers is interesting. The earliest shrines in honor of Śākyamuni Buddha seem to have been Stūpas like the one at Sanchi in India — a huge dome with a rather small protuberance at the top. This was later developed in all the Buddhist countries in accordance with the national culture. In some, such as Thailand, the dome diminished and became more nearly cylindrical, whereas the protuberance became a tall slender spire; in China and Nepal, the pagoda was evolved from the spire, and the dome vanished altogether. In Tibet and Mongolia, the Stūpa became the chörten. In design, chörtens vary only within narrow limits, so most of them retain the symbolical features indicated in the diagram below. The small ones often contain objects of special sanctity and rolls of exceedingly thin paper on which the essence of the Buddhist canon is inscribed.

Diagram 5

Key to the symbolism of a chörten

(a), (d), (e), (f), and (h) represent the five elements, thus:

(a) “mitre”-shaped, or leaf-shaped “ether,” mind, spirit, void

(d) umbrella-shaped air

(e) conical fire

(f ) round water

(h) flat and square earth

(b) and (c) represent the sun and moon.

(g) is a window-like aperture with a small statue of the Buddha inside.

(i) represents the four stages of spiritual progress in the form of terraces.

(j) is incised with pictures of lions (symbols of the Buddha) guarding the jewel of wisdom (Dharma).

(k) is the support (the Sangha, or Sacred Community).

The interpretation is that everything in the universe is composed of combinations of five elements of which the four material “elements” (vapor, heat, liquid, solid) are, ultimately, absorbed in the subtle element, essence of Mind. This essence is apprehended by means of the Dharma, which leads the adept, while still clothed by the material elements, through the ultimate stages of spiritual progress and up to Enlightenment.