The Dakini Principle.

by Michaela Haas, PhD

“Whether male or female, there is no great difference. But if a
woman develops the mind of enlightenment, her potential is
supreme.”


—Padmasambhava, pioneer of Vajrayana Buddhism in Tibet


TIBETAN BUDDHISM offers a unique premise: that to be a woman can actually be favorable on the path to spiritual realization. Women, so the eighth-century trailblazer of Buddhism in Tibet reasoned, are better equipped to realize the wisdom of the teachings. Modern teachers have echoed this sentiment. As the Western nun Tenzin Palmo comments, “Many lamas have said that women make superior practitioners because they are able to dive into meditation much more

easily than males. This is because many males are afraid of dropping the intellect, especially monks who have been studying for a long time. To suddenly just let that go and be naked in the meditational experience is frightening for them, whereas women seem to be able to manage it naturally.”2


A female embodiment of enlightenment is called a dakini in the ancient Indian language of Sanskrit. But what exactly is a dakini? Dakinis are elusive and playful by nature; trying to nail them down with a neat definition means missing them, since defying narrow intellectual concepts is at the core of their wise game. I listened to the teachers in this book when they shared their understanding.

“To me the special female quality (which of course many men have as well) is first of all a sharpness, a clarity,” says Tenzin Palmo, who has vowed to attain enlightenment in a female body. “It cuts through —especially intellectual ossification. It . . . gets to the point. To me the dakini principle stands for the intuitive force. Women get it in a flash—they're not interested in intellectual discussion which they normally find dry and cold with minimum appeal.”

As Khandro Rinpoche, whose very name literally means “precious dakini,” points out: “Traditionally, the term dakini has been used for outstanding female practitioners, consorts of great masters, and to denote the enlightened female principle of nonduality which transcends gender.” Khandro Rinpoche defines the authentic dakini principle as “a very sharp, brilliant wisdom mind that is uncompromising, honest, with a little bit of wrath.” This, to me, is a very exact description of the qualities of the teachers who are featured in this book. Despite their gentleness and humor, I experience many of the female teachers as direct, sharply intelligent, radical, and courageous.

The dakini principle must not be oversimplified, as it carries many levels of meaning. on an outer level, accomplished female practitioners were called dakinis, and it is in this sense that the term is used in the title of this book. But ultimately, though she appears in female form, a dakini defies gender

definitions. “To really meet the dakini, you have to go beyond duality,” Khandro Rinpoche teaches, referring to an essential understanding in Vajrayana that the absolute reality cannot be grasped intellectually. The Tibetan word for dakini, khandro, means “sky-goer” or “space-dancer,” which indicates that these ethereal awakened ones have left the confinements of solid earth and have the vastness of open space to play in.

Practitioner-scholar Judith simmer-Brown differentiates four levels of meaning:

on a secret level, she is seen as the manifestation of fundamental aspects of phenomena and the mind, and so her power is intimately associated with the most profound insights of Vajrayana meditation. In this her most essential aspect, she is called the formless wisdom nature of the mind itself. on an inner, ritual level, she is a meditational deity, visualized as the personification of qualities of buddhahood. on an outer, subtle- body level, she is the energetic network of the embodied mind in the subtle channels and vital breath of tantric yoga. she is also spoken of as a living woman: she may be a guru on a brocaded throne or a yogini meditating in a remote cave, a powerful teacher of meditation or a guru's consort teaching directly through her life example. Finally all women are seen as some kind of dakini manifestation.

Thus, dakinis appear in many forms. “The dakinis are the most important elements of the enlightened feminine in Tibetan Buddhism,” says American teacher Tsultrim Allione.5 “They are the luminous, subtle, spiritual energy, the key, the gatekeeper, the guardian of the unconditioned state. If we are not willing to invite the dakini into our life, then we cannot enter these subtle states of mind. Sometimes the dakinis appear as messengers, sometimes as guides, and sometimes as protectors.
”

PLAYFUL, SEDUCTIVE, AND WILD


You might walk into a Tibetan Buddhist temple such as Tsultrim Allione's Tara Mandala in Colorado and encounter an abundance of female figures: Prajnaparamita, the embodiment of “transcendent wisdom,” might sit in perfect meditation posture on a lotus, holding up a loose-leaf text of the wisdom sutras.b Tara, the female buddha known as the “One who Liberates,” sits with one leg stretched out indicating that she is ready to jump up and help beings whenever needed. Her seven eyes watch the visitors with a calm but penetrating gaze. “The extra eyes of mercy enable her to see and save suffering beings from misery,”6 says Dagmola Sakya, who reports having visions of her. “Tara . . . is the mother of all beings who cares for them as though each was her own child.”7 Tara and Prajnaparamita are both referred to as mothers of all buddhas, since the “Awakened Ones” are born from wisdom.

For lack of a better word, in English these buddhas are usually called “deities.” Yet, literally, the Tibetan word yidam means “holding the mind.” Unlike in other religions, such as Christianity or Hinduism, these archetypes of enlightenment are not externally existing entities whose blessings are invoked. Rather, deities in Vajrayana Buddhism are manifestations of mind the practitioners evoke to purify neuroses and connect with a deeper level of awareness. Some of them are depicted as serene and peaceful like Tara and Prajnaparamita. Others, such as Vajrayogini, manifest as wrathful and fierce, flashing their fangs, baring their naked breasts and vaginas in a wild dance, and destroying ignorance without hesitation. Because dakinis are said to break through

blockages and obstacles, they are often associated with an uncomfortably fierce demeanor. “There is the aspect of compassion, embodied by Tara; then there is the mother figure and its aspects of love. But then, in the tantric tradition, there is the wild aspect of the dakini, untamed, and free, belonging to no man,”

Tsultrim Allione explains.8 “Dakinis have a quality of playfulness, expressing emptiness and pulling the rug out from under you. This feminine quality of seduction and play makes you insecure and yet open.”

Tibetan Buddhists were not the first to meet the dakinis. Like many elements of Vajrayana, the dakinis emerged first in the Indian tantras,c and those, in turn, had partly drawn on ancient pre-Aryan goddess traditions. When tantra originated in India, the dakini was seen as wrathful and often described as a blood-drinking flesh eater who lived in charnel grounds or cemeteries, challenging the yogis to explode their fears. After Buddhists adopted tantric ideas

and tantric Buddhism migrated to Tibet in the eighth century, this image softened somewhat. A gentler, more sensual and accommodating female image emerged, one that nurtured and sustained the practitioners; though that enticing figure could still instantly resort to more dramatic, wrathful means when the peaceful approach of seduction didn't work. This enigma is embodied in Vajrayogini, who is often called the chief of dakinis. Usually depicted as an attractive teenage girl, naked except for a few bone ornaments, she glances invitingly while also swinging a curved knife, ready to cut through ego clinging without warning.


“INFERIOR BEINGS” IN TIBET


The Himalayas were always a nursery for highly accomplished female practitioners and to some extent still are. The yoginisd might live in remote hermitages or nunneries as devoted practitioners, or as the wives, mothers, or daughters of famous teachers. Students often sought their advice informally, but women rarely wrote books, sat on high thrones or assumed lofty titles of their own. “There were certainly many great female practitioners in Tibet,” says Tenzin Palmo. “But because they lacked a background of philosophical training, they could not aspire to write books, gather disciples, go on Dharma tours, and

give talks. When we read the histories, we will notice that nuns are distinguished by their absence. But this doesn't mean they weren't there.”9
Promising young males in the Himalayas were usually isolated from the distractions of daily society in order to undergo a rigorous course of study and retreats, but less attention was paid to their female counterparts. While iconic archetypes of feminine enlightenment were erected on shrines, few women in Tibet were actually emboldened to follow in their footsteps. Despite the encouraging quote of the pioneer of Tibetan Buddhism that women's potential to

attain liberation is supreme, most Buddhist cultures throughout the centuries perceived women as lesser beings. The few encouraging statements are outnumbered by plenty of passages in the writings attributed to Padmasambhava and other masters that lament the hardships of womanhood. Commonly used Tibetan words for woman, lumen or kyemen, literally mean “inferior being” or “lesser birth.” some orthodox masters doubt to this day if women can attain realization at all, and age-old liturgies have women pray for a better rebirth in a male body. As Dagmola sakya's biography illustrates, even contemporary

women often were denied access to basic education, for one does not need these skills to bear children and herd the cows. one of my Tibetan friends, the only sister of four renowned Tibetan teachers, does not even know her birthday, because her parents deemed it not important to note down the day as they did with her brothers. Khandro Rinpoche describes the prejudices she encountered when she attempted to study advanced philosophical texts.
in Asia, almost always men were the ones who sat on thrones, made important decisions, and were recognized as incarnations, while mostly women would do the laundry and the cooking. As British abbess Tenzin Palmo points out, “i find it puzzling, in a way, that a third of the male population in Tibet became

monks, . . . yet there were very few nuns.”10 When asked about the reasons, some traditional teachers respond that men were simply more interested in religious studies, but this omits economic facts: monasteries were often well supported by the government as well as the local population, equipped with excellent schools and colleges. The few nunneries, by contrast, were mostly in extremely remote locations, thus cut off from support by villagers, not bankrolled by governments nor major sponsors, and without adequate teachers. To this day nunneries in Asia usually lack the resources the monasteries get and some of the nuns who escape from Tibet cannot even read or write.


SECOND-CLAss NUNS


one of the reasons for the difference in support is that the Tibetan tradition does not know full ordination for women. When Buddhism traveled from india into Tibet, apparently the quorum of twelve fully ordained nuns required for bestowing full ordination never reached Tibet.11 There are singular accounts of fully ordained Tibetan women, such as the Samding Dorje Phagmo (1422-1455), who was once ranked the highest female master in Tibet, but we know very little about the exact circumstances of their ordination.12 So currently full ordination is not an option for women in the Tibetan tradition, thus

rendering nuns inferior. In fact, the Tibetan word for nun, ani, with which the nuns are commonly addressed, does not actually mean “nun” but simply “auntie,” whereas Tibetans know a host of honorific terms for monks. In order to receive full ordination, Tibetan Buddhist nuns have to travel to countries where the Chinese ordination lineage is available. “But most Tibetan nuns can't afford to travel to Hong Kong, Taiwan, or Korea,” says Tenzin Palmo, “and even if they did, from the nuns' point of view, they want to be ordained in their own tradition, in their own robes, by their own teachers or the Dalai Lama!”

Thus even the eminent Khandro Rinpoche, whose life and accomplishments as one of the very few female rinpochese is featured in the first chapter, is technically a novice.

His Holiness the Fourteenth Dalai Lama has stated publicly that he supports full ordination for Tibetan nuns, but that he cannot make the decision alone; the monks' community would have to endorse such a move. To underline his stance, the Dalai Lama gave a group of senior Western bhikshunisf 50,000 Swiss francs to research the complex task of bringing full ordination to Tibetan nuns. The Committee on Bhikshuni Ordination, with Tenzin Palmo and her friends Pema Chodron, Karma Lekshe Tsomo, and Thubten Chodron, continues to present its findings and suggest solutions.


THE FIRST FEMALE PROFESSOR


The Dalai Lama has spoken out many times about the need for resolving the issue. “Two thousand five hundred years ago, . . . the Buddha was preaching in . . . a male-dominated society,” he stated in an interview.13 “If he stressed feminist viewpoints, nobody would have listened to him. . . . The important thing is that now, for the past thirty years, we have worked to change that.” The Dalai Lama acknowledges that many nuns are very sincere but have been given no chance to ascend to the highest ordination level. “This has made me somewhat uncomfortable, especially since the Buddha gave equal opportunities

to women. But we, even as followers of Buddha, neglected that. In the last few centuries, we completely neglected the quality of religious studies in nunneries.” The Tibetan leader has emphasized that conditions are improving with the same levels of studies now available to women. Until very recently, the nuns were unable to attain the title of khenpo or geshe—the Tibetan equivalents of doctors and professors. Why is that? Because the absence of full ordination in the Tibetan lineage does not allow them to study the full geshe curriculum, which includes the entire monastic code (Skt. vinaya).


The Dalai Lama personally founded and supported the Institute for Buddhist Dialectics near his seat in exile in Dharamsala, North India, waiving some of the traditional requirements for female students. In April 2011, he awarded the geshe degree to a Western nun. This is a historical first in many ways: geshe degrees are traditionally conferred in the major monasteries on monks after twelve or more years of rigorous study in Buddhist philosophy. Despite not being fully ordained, German-born novice Kelsang Wangmo (formerly Kerstin Brummenbaum) was finally rewarded for mastering sixteen years of strenuous

study in highest Buddhist philosophy. “It was difficult to be the only woman,” Kelsang Wangmo says. “It was very lonely, because the monks didn't want to hang out with a nun.” The Dalai Lama had advised her to study a slightly altered curriculum instead of the full Vinaya, but her all-male classmates thought the situation was absurd. While she couldn't attend the Vinaya classes in person, her fellow students sneaked her the recordings so that she could listen to them after all. “Also, my classmates were taking turns teaching the lower classes, but as a nun I could not officially teach the junior monks,” Kelsang Wangmo says, referring to a passage in the monastic code that does not allow nuns to teach monks, but adds, resolutely upbeat: “All this is changing now, and my teachers have been very supportive. We must not give up. If I can do it, anybody can do it.”


STEPPING OUT OF THE SHADOW


While a multitude of male Tibetan teachers have gained international recognition, one can count on one hand the female outliers who have been fully trained to give empowerments and teachings in the West today. Therefore it is no coincidence that only three teachers of Tibetan origin are featured in this book. The biographies of Khandro Rinpoche, Dagmola Sakya, and Khandro Tsering Chodron testify how incredibly rare it was for women to access the same education

and training as their male counterparts because of the patriarchal background. While many of the women have stood in the shadow of their husbands, fathers, or teachers, and while it is somewhat uncommon for them to step out of that obscurity by putting their own biography in the spotlight, this is the logical next step in women taking their seat as Buddhist teachers. It is the intent of this book to make the luminous qualities of these women known, including their challenges and doubts, which in the Tibetan tradition are usually not discussed frankly.


QUEENS, NUNS, AND YOGINIS


Traditionally, life stories of female Buddhist masters were rarely told. Apart from the biographies of a few noteworthy exceptions, we know little about the female adepts of Tibet. Take Tulku Thondup's wonderful Masters of Meditation and Miracles, for example. One reads more than three dozen impressive narratives of the most important lineage masters in the Ancient Tradition (Nyingma) of Tibetan Buddhism, yet apart from Padmasambhava's five consorts, only

one woman master is among those honored: Jetsun Shugseb Lochen Rinpoche (1852-1953). An outstanding practitioner and founder of a vibrant nunnery in Tibet, she is one of the very few female masters who initiated her own reincarnation lineage. Like many of her fellow nuns, even this exceptional master prayed to be reborn in a male body to find better circumstances for pursuing the path in the future. (Ironically, her male reincarnation has abandoned religious life to study in Beijing.)

Of course, there must have been countless more realized female practitioners, meditating unflinchingly despite poverty and discrimination. As Tenzin Palmo points out, “One can only admire them; they were intrepid. They went to remote places, to caves up in the mountains, and they practiced and practiced. They were wonderful. But of course one never hears about them, because nobody wrote their biographies. Nobody considered it important to write the biography of

some woman. It is not evident from the texts that there were many, but we know that there were.”15 Tsultrim Allione found the lack of biographies so pressing that she researched the stories of historic Tibetan yoginis in her book Women of Wisdom: “We need to have models for enlightenment for women. We need to be able to see the female body as a vehicle for enlightenment. In the absence of these models, women often feel that they don't have the capacity for full awakening in this very lifetime.”16


ANCIENT METHODS FOR THE MÓDERN WORLD


With Buddhism the fastest growing religion in many Western nations, an increasing number of Westerners are deeply fascinated by the teachings of the Buddha and his very practical, applicable methods. scientific research has proven that Buddhist meditation significantly helps in reducing stress and anxiety while increasing well-being and happiness. I have seen intense transformation in top executives of various religious backgrounds who came to my seminars to learn the art of sitting still, coupled with the profound science of compassion that the Buddha uncovered. This then is one of the questions that guided my interest in this book: What do the age-old teachings of the Buddha have to offer for women and men in our modern world?

In most Buddhist countries throughout Asia, the task of spiritual realization is carried out by “professionals,” as Tenzin Palmo calls them.17 Monks and nuns devote themselves full time to study and practice, without the “distractions” of family, job, and mortgage. In some countries, it is considered a must that at least one of the children in a family opts for monastic life. Yet in the West, where Buddhism is now taking root, comparatively few wish to get ordained. Rather than isolating themselves in remote mountains, working moms, accountants, and CEos are looking for ways to turn their everyday lives into

a meaningful path. Tenzin Palmo has observed that traditional teachers sometimes make a distinction between “spiritual practice on the one hand and everyday life on the other.”18 She remembers how once a frustrated working mother complained she did not have much time for spiritual practice and asked the advice of a traditional Tibetan teacher, “What should I do?” The lama replied, “Never mind, when your children are grown up you can take early retirement and then you can start to practice.”19

I haven't heard such a statement from the female teachers in this book. Several of them are mothers; many have worked “ordinary” jobs as cleaners, school teachers, or translators before being recognized as outstanding Buddhist teachers. All of them are careful to acknowledge that practice means awareness in every moment, whether sitting on a meditation cushion, loading a washing machine, or coordinating an executive meeting. “Spiritual practice is everyday

life, not just sitting on the cushion, meditating,” says Dagmola Sakya, a mother of five boys. “Every move, every word, every thought is practice. Dharma is in daily life.” And Zen priest Roshi Joan Halifax emphasized at a recent TED conference, “Women have manifested, for thousands of years, the strength arising from compassion, in an unfiltered way, unmediated, in perceiving suffering, as it is. They have infused societies with kindness. They have actualized compassion through direct action.”20


A SEA CHANGE IN THE WEST


Every time Buddhism migrated from its place of origin in India to other countries, whether Sri Lanka, Burma, Japan, China, or Tibet, the philosophy, customs, and rituals transformed as well. Not surprisingly, Buddhism's relocation to the West comes with a sea change of emphasis and culture.
In Tibet, practitioners holed up in caves, sometimes for decades. In the West, teachers reach thousands instantly by streaming their wisdom on podcasts. In

the Himalayas, women rarely got equal access to education. In the West, women demand to be acknowledged in the many leadership roles they assume. In many Asian Buddhist communities, open dissent is unthinkable, while in academia, critical discourse is crucial. In the traditional monasteries, nobody would have dared to spar with a teacher who presents a literal interpretation of the mystical lore. In the West, fact-checking is deemed pivotal. “The Eastern pattern is more toward seeking harmony,” Roshi Joan Halifax has observed. “The Western pattern is to seek transparency.”

Yet maybe of all these changes that we are watching Buddhism undergo in the West, the most momentous may be that women are insisting on playing an equal role. More and more women are now rising as teachers in their own right who understand their responsibility: to invigorate and bolster women to hold up half the sky as spiritual seekers and teachers. As feminist Buddhist scholar Rita Gross points out, “The single biggest difference between the practice of Buddhism in Asia and the practice of Buddhism in the West is the full and complete participation of women in Western Buddhism.”21 The Dalai Lama has acknowledged this by pointing out that his next incarnation could be a woman. Why not? What's the big deal?

“The lamas can't ignore this any longer,” says Western nun Karma Lekshe Tsomo whose life story is featured in this book. “In most dharma centers, look into the kitchen—all women. Look into the offices, who does the administration? Mostly women. Who does the driving and organizing, the cleaning and the correspondence, the shopping and managing? Mostly women.” That women then also become teachers and abbesses is only a natural evolution.

Like mirrors, their biographies sharply reflect larger issues, such as the current transformation of Buddhism in the twenty-first century and the role women play in this endeavor as prime agents. This perspective was in line with the advice my teacher, Dzigar Kongtrul Rinpoche, had given me for the book: “Biographies are good,” he said, “but they won't have much impact unless you don't gloss over the issues.” Which issues? “You have to ask the women what

the issues are,” he responded, and this is what I did. One nun surprised me by candidly summing up the issues with two words: “Sex and sexism.” So we ended up talking not only about meditation and compassion, but also about power and abuse, seclusion and seduction, logic and faith, devotion and rebellion.

a. Lama (Tib.; Skt. guru) is the Tibetan term for a Buddhist master. It could literally be translated as “high mother” or as “unsurpassed.”

b. Discourses ascribed to the Buddha.

c. Tantra (Skt.; Tib. gyu) literally means “thread” or “loom.” Here it refers to the class of esoteric literature and practices that originated in India in the early centuries CE. In relation to Tibetan Buddhism the term “tantra” is used for the later esoteric texts as distinguished from the sutra texts that are ascribed to the historical Buddha Shakyamuni.

d. Derived from the Sanskrit word yoga, literally “union,” yogini is a Sanskrit term for a female practitioner dedicated to the spiritual path, mostly in the Hindu and the Buddhist traditions.

e. Rinpoche (Tib.), pronounced “rin-po-chey,” literally means “precious.” The title is bestowed on eminent teachers out of reverence.

f. Fully ordained nuns.