The Collected Works of Chögyam Trungpa: Volume 6 (59 page)

The energy or efficiency aspect is connected with the karma and vajra families. All these distinctions we are making and descriptions of aspects we are giving here are less concerned with what is contained than with the container. Efficiency from this point of view means providing accommodation for efficiency rather than being efficient in the active sense.

There are two ways of instigating efficiency. One is through the sharpness of vajra, which covers all the territory and all the areas, so that, as far as the space is concerned, there are no unsurveyed areas left. Because of that quality of surveying all areas, we could use the word
intellect
here in a relative sense, though it may not apply on the absolute level. We can speak of intellect here in virtue of its precision and sharpness.

The other style of efficiency is karma, which is not efficient so much in the sense of covering all areas as in the sense of believing in automatic fulfillment. There is the sense that things are already being fulfilled, so there is an ongoing energy of total functioning. You don’t have to try to function or try to fulfill, because everything is being fulfilled. Because of that, you do not have to push into any particular area. That is karma—seeing the totality of action as it is, so there is no struggle involved.

The acceptance or expansive aspect of dharmata, or total basic space, is connected with padma and ratna.

Ratna sees everything in terms of oneness or sameness. In other words, the notion of expanding into a certain territory does not apply anymore, because the space is seen as self-existing. Everything is seen as constantly being, with a sense of total confidence or total pride. There is acknowledgement of everything being, with a sense of self-existing dignity. There is no room to move about or speculate or maneuver. Everything is completely total.

For padma, the total sense of existence also has a tremendous sense of being self-contained. The richness of dignity that has already been developed creates a sense that almost expects or commands magnetism. But again, the terms
command
or
expect
are insufficient or valid only in a relative sense. It is not expecting on the basis of a center-and-fringe notion of this and that; or “command” in the sense of marching into somebody’s territory and trying to suck them in. Rather it is like a magnet existing for its own sake rather than having to exercise its magnetic qualities on something else. It is a sort of self-contained magnet.

These five qualities are the basic constituents of the mandala. The reason it is a mandala is because all these qualities relate with each other. It is almost like saying the same thing five different ways. The basic quality of the whole thing is being without a struggle, without a journey. And being without a struggle or journey has different expressions, not because of any relational situation, but just simply as a way of existing. Therefore, we can afford to be free, without aggression, without a fight, without a struggle.

To get into all the meanings of the iconographical details of mandala pictures would require several years of time and space. So trying to put everything into a so-called nutshell, we could say that basic accommodating, or vast being, also contains tremendous power, invincible power, because it does not depend on the existence of the relative world. Since it does not depend on existing in the relative world, it does not need any feedback. Since it does not depend on any feedback, it is not threatened by anything at all. And such 200 percent power (you could almost say, if there is such a thing—we are using relative language again) could be seen as extremely wrathful. This is wrath without anger, without hatred. It is being in a state of invincibility. It is wrath in the sense of a living flame—it does not allow any dualistic or relative concepts to perch on it. If a dualistic situation presented itself, it would be burned up automatically, consumed. But this power contains tremendous peacefulness at the same time. This is not peacefulness in the sense of absence of wrath. That basic space is peaceful because there is no reason that it should not be peaceful, because its totality is always there. Therefore, it is luminous and pure and accommodates everything with nondualistic compassion.

The idea of conflict is generally based on our being trapped in a relative world. The starting point for chaos or confusion is maintaining some point, maintaining some situation. When we try to maintain some point, the occupation that is involved in the process of maintaining is dependent on the threat that comes from all other areas, and that threat channels into the possibility of not being able to maintain. If it were not for that threat, there would be no question of having to maintain at all. The question does not arise at the beginning.

The relationship between maintaining and protecting against the threat to maintaining is like the relationship between zero and one. One is dependent on zero and zero is dependent on one. This is not at all the same as the relationship between one and two. The Sanskrit word
advaya
and the Tibetan word
nyi-me
both express the notion of “not-two,” which applies to the relationship between zero and one. In this case it means “no zero, no one.” The idea is that as soon as we begin to see in terms of pattern or even begin to imagine or barely think in terms of even vague perceptions of a point of reference, that
is
the birth of both samsara and nirvana (to use the popular terms). The idea of not-two is that it is possible to have a world—a complete, pragmatic world—beyond any point of reference. It is more than possible; it is highly possible. In fact such a world is much more solid than the world of relativity, which is a weak situation based on interdependence, subject to constant death and birth and all kinds of other threats, which constantly arise. With threats constantly arising, the relative situation finally becomes extremely freaky—one never knows who is who, what is what, which is which. It is like the joke “Who’s on first, what’s on second?”

The dualistic misunderstanding occurs right at the beginning, so when you try to correct it, it just develops into further misunderstandings. But what we are saying is that there is an entirely new area, another dimension, that does not need proof or interpretation. It does not need a reference point. That there is such a dimension is not only highly possible, but it is
so.

The inspiration of this dimension has developed into beautiful works of art, an imaginary world of nonexistence, a nondualistic world. As personal experience and tradition evolved, 725 basic mandalas were developed, each one of them extremely detailed and precise. One mandala might contain as many as 500 deities. All those patterns of deities are based on the five principles, the five aspects of the basic space or totality.

This is not just something yogis or siddhas developed by getting drunk on amrita and coming up with things at random.
¹
Each point is very definite and very precise. It has been possible to develop a world of precision, a world with a definite clear way of thinking and a functional world, without those other relative areas we have been talking about. It is not only highly possible but it has happened and is happening.

There seem to be a lot of misunderstandings about mandalas. People say that a mandala is an object of meditation that you gaze at. Just by gazing at these colored diagrams you are supposed to get turned on! But from the point of view of sanity, optical illusions or diagrammatic patterns are not crutches you could use to get onto a higher level.

The basic teaching of mandala has been presented 725 times, and that is in the lower tantras, on the level of kriyayoga, alone. Goodness knows how many mandalas there are in the higher tantras—millions of them! The numbers multiply as you go up in the yanas. There are six tantric yanas of which kriyayoga is only the first, and you have 725 mandalas there. As you go up to the level of the sixth yana, atiyoga, the mandalas multiply so many times that they finally become nonexistent. The boundaries begin to dissolve. This is such an invasion of privacy! That is why it is called freedom.

So taking these ideas and attitudes as a functional working basis, we should now be able to provide the conclusion for our seminar.

Visualizing a mandala deity can be approached from two different angles. One way is purely to relate to thought patterns, mind’s game. Instead of visualizing Grand Central Station and dwelling on that, you might as well visualize something that means a lot. Eventually, you might visualize the mandala of Avalokiteshvara or Tara or Guhyasamaja or some other deity. That would be a kind of substitute. If you have to have crutches, why not make them out of gold rather than aluminum.

There is another approach to visualization. This is a sense of familiarity with mandala as we have discussed it in this seminar. You turn your attitude toward that sense of mandala with the understanding that you cannot grasp it or nearly grasp it, but such an area does exist. You turn your mind toward it and relate it with your sense of unknown territory and the mysteriousness of the whole of being. That sense of mysteriousness brings all kinds of space. You do not state everything fact by fact. You do not present yourself with a package deal in which everything is logically sound and solid and without any room. You present yourself with some doubt. There is still basic logic, such as that three times three makes nine or whatever, but at the same time you allow some gap, some doubt related to the possibility of a further journey that is necessary. One can turn one’s attitude toward that. That is the beginning of the awakening process, a beginning toward giving up your logical game.

Eventually, as we get into the basic mandala as it is, with the whole understanding of samsaric pain and of the dharmadhatu, we realize that the teachings taught in the tradition are not just those of a particular culture. The teachings taught in the language of the tradition are continually up-to-date. Ideally, we should be able to relate to the visualization of a mandala as our own portrait, our own discovery, rather than seeing it as some aspect of a foreign culture that we are dwelling on.

Interestingly, in the Chinese tradition, bodhisattvas, and even certain herukas, or tantric deities, have been depicted wearing Chinese imperial costumes. In India, of course, the place where tantra originated, the deities are depicted as, for instance, Aryan kings, wearing crowns inlaid with the five kinds of jewels along with the rest of the costume of an Aryan king. From this point of view, visualization practice is not entirely anthropomorphic. It is designed or taught for all the six realms of the world: the animal realm, the hell realm, hungry ghost realm, the realm of the jealous gods, realm of the gods, and the human realm.

The tantric approach to practice is absolute, not anthropomorphic. You might say that the hinayana and mahayana approaches are anthropomorphic, the mahayana approach somewhat less so. But the vajrayana’s approach to practice is cosmic.
²

This also goes for the mantras that go along with the visualizations. They are not regarded as definite words that make sense—like certain phrases that can keep your mind from freaking out. Mantra is regarded as the ultimate incantation. There is no room for mind to dwell when what you say is nonsense—transcendental nonsense. It does not make any sense, but at the same time it does make sense because of its nonsense quality. It is just an echo, like the sound of one hand clapping a nonexistent sound.

Usually mantra is regarded as an abstract sound rather than something that means something. In that respect, mantra recitation is quite different from the usual idea of prayer. It may be closer to the Hesychastic idea of prayer found in the Greek Orthodox tradition. The
Philokalia
talks about repeating a prayer over and over. At the beginning you repeat it with intention, with direction, with a sense of purpose. You go on and on and on. Finally, you are uncertain who is saying the prayer and who is not saying it. You lose the sense of direction. You actually become free of the sense of direction rather than losing it in the sense of getting confused. You become less confused, therefore you become more accommodating. Eventually, the prayer begins to repeat as though it were the beat of your heart, as though it were repeating itself. In fact at that point, the prayer is repeating you rather than you repeating the prayer. This kind of prayer has some connection with the mantric approach.

The mantric approach starts at the beginning, not even as a prayer but just as a certain cosmic sound that goes along with a certain cosmic visualization. The visualization might be of mandalas or various deities, maybe a six-armed deity with eighteen heads, holding different scepters in its hands, wearing a human skin with an elephant skin on top of it, wearing a tiger skin as a skirt and a crown of skulls, surrounded by flame, and uttering magic words such as
HUM
and
PHAT.
Such visualizations are very vivid. However, they are by no means pop art. They are transcendental art. These expressions become extraordinarily powerful and vivid and real to the extent that we are able to give up the boundaries of the dualistic approach of evaluating them. Once there is no more evaluation, the whole thing becomes very lively, very real.

The problem that arises for us in relation to this is that first we have to have a definite sense of commitment to ourselves. We have to be willing to work with the samsaric mandala to begin with, without looking for something better. We have to make the best of samsaric situations and work with them. After we have worked with samsaric situations, we gradually develop an awareness of the background, or environment, in which the samsaric mandala functions. We begin to discover that there is something more than just this world alone, than the world in our dualistic sense of it.

I do not mean to say that there is another world somewhere else, like the moon, Mars, or the heavens. There is another world in the sense that there is another discovery that we could make. We see a blade of grass, but we could see further into its blade-of-grassness. We could see the blade of grass in its own full totality. Then we would see the greenness of the blade of grass as part of its innate nature. Its whole being is actually being, without any confirmation. It just happens to be a really true blade of grass. When the mandala experience begins to occur, we see the true world, 100 percent, without distortion, without conceptualizing it.