Part II - Shri Yantra, Kabbala, and 'Inner Alchemy'
Abstract
In 'The Enneagram as Mandala' we sought to show that mandalas may be conceived as having
And then, in Part I of 'Enneagram as Double Mandala', we noticed that the Enneagram was also intended to represent PROCESS. Like other double-mandalas, it was comprised of two figures which, in combination, depicted a special kind of 'movement' that was paradoxical.
In certain mandalas that are amongst the most profound and spiritually meaningful,
both characteristics of the mandala - the non-linear structure and contradictory movement - are inextricably interwoven. In the Shri Yantra, which we will be exploring in this paper,
liminocentric structuring is combined with reversible process in such a fashion as
to simulate a very special kind of paradoxical 'movement', a primordial sistolic/diastolic
MOVEMENT OF CONSCIOUSNESS, in which awareness alternately (and ultimately simultaneously)
contracts inwardly toward the center of the diagram and back outward toward the periphery,
in a manner that is most aptly modeled by a three-dimensional 'spiral' made to wrap
back around on itself in a donut-shaped figure that is called a 'torus' by mathematicians. Mastery of this kind of mental movement is, as we shall see, the primary subject of the early 'Yoga Sutras', which act as the theoretical foundation for the meditational systems out of which the mandala, as a profound spiritual practice and visualization, originally emerged.
In the Yoga Sutras nine stages of 'samadhi' are discerned. They parallel the nine
tiers of 'spiritual evolution' that are represented by the Shri Yantra when, according
to authorities on this subject, the two-dimensional diagram is conceived
as a three-dimensional object. 'Samadhi' is the special meditational state that an individual can enter into when she can 'hold the object of meditation without any distractions' and it thus becomes 'possible to know the object much more intimately than in ordinary thinking'. After the mind is 'pacified' in the prerequisite manner, and there are less distractions - fewer simple DEFLECTIONS of attention from one object to another - the mind can be 'concentrated' at length on one object, and the SCOPE of attention can be widened or narrowed at will. The result is not only access to special avenues of 'knowledge' about the object of meditation, but also to significant discoveries that the individual can make about the nature of the mind itself. This most fundamental kind of movement of mind, which the individual becomes capable of 'in samadhi', is what is simulated by the Shri Yantra, and reflected in its nine-tiered structure.
When the 'mandala offering' that we described earlier (associated with a specific
In much the same way in which Jung sought to better understand the obscure elements in
an individual's dream by drawing on the symbols that are their counterparts in mythology
(a practice he called 'amplification'), we are attempting in these papers to shed light on the Enneagram by comparing it to various other mandala figures about which more is known.
To this end we explore the Shri Yantra and the Tibetan 'mandala practice'. But as the
insights that are embodied in these systems seem, in fact, be more universal in nature
and not exclusively the product of Eastern minds, we turn our attention in this paper, albeit only for a brief moment, to another mystical system that seeks to describe the manner in which
spirit 'emanates' into matter - the Kabbalah. It also can, apparently, be
diagrammed as a three-dimensional 'torus'.
(Jung, in Spiritual Disciplines, p. 394)
The Shri Yantra, an ancient Indian figure that was designed for use as an object of meditation, has been so thoroughly discussed in the West that it has developed a literature all its own. The advantage of comparing this figure to the Enneagram lies in the fact that the yogic practices with which it and similar figures are associated, have been passed down in a reliable and accurate fashion from teacher to student through unbroken spiritual lineages that continue to flourish to date. More thoroughly documented and clearly articulated than the spiritual practices that are connected to the Enneagram, the yogic practices may prove to be an invaluable resource in understanding the original intent of the Enneagram. According to Mookerjee, the 'yantra', unlike the 'mandala', is a 'pure geometric configuration without any iconographic representation'. 'Whereas a yantra', he explains, is a directly accessible visual form, 'a mandala, especially of the classical Tibetan tradition, is a composition of complex patterns and diverse iconographic images.'1 To some extent, this accounts for why the 'double' nature of most mandala figures is not VISUALLY apparent, in the way that it is, as we shall see, in the Shri Yantra. In order to apprehend how the two 'orders' in such a mandala are combined, one needs to have some additional knowledge about the meaning of the iconographic symbols. 2 In comparison, although the double-nature of the Shri Yantra is subtle and elusive and can at first glance go un-noticed, it is nontheless an 'open secret' - one that is, as we shall see, readily accessible to any viewer who is prepared to actually LOOK at the diagram, even if he or she has little or no knowledge of iconography. Closely consider the Shri Yantra as it is displayed in the line-drawing below. You have probably seen it before, on the cover of a book, or in a photograph. There are 960 yantras, according to the Tantraraja Tantra. Distinguishing itself from these others, the Shri Yantra is the most celebrated, according to Mookerjee. 'The Shri Yantra, in its formal content, is a visual masterpiece of abstraction', he says, 'and must have been created through revelation rather than by human ingenuity and craft'.3 This is high praise indeed, and might seem, at first, like an exaggeration. But it is not. Although the figure is subtle, its profound meaning can be discerned without having to know anything more about the diagram than what is physically manifest in the lines which comprise it. So take a moment to carefully study it visually. Please don't assume that because you may have seen it before, you have actually SEEN it.
What is unique about this figure? Treat it as a visual riddle or 'koan', if you can. Can you see the puzzle that is embedded in the very design of the figure? There IS one, a puzzle that is subtly presented in a completely visual form, without words or concepts. Please take your time. Here is how one long-time zen practitioner described the first EFFECT that the diagram had on him when we presented it and asked him, without any further explanation whatsoever, to visually meditate on it -
The visual effect of looking at the array of triangles is of a shifting field of larger and smaller triangles, giving almost a perception of depth, as one triangle shifts to one either larger and seemingly closer, or smaller and seemingly farther away. The triangles forming the array (i.e., not the smaller triangles the main triangles form) are either equal sided, or their bottom side is shorter than the two vertical sides. The smaller triangles are generally not uniform, although they are mostly nearly (or exactly) equalsided". This is a precise and accurate phenomenological description of what happens when one looks at the diagram, but not yet an insight into its most essential nature. Here's a hint that might be helpful in taking you the next step into this diagram - What is 'wrong' with the picture? Can you find the visual anomaly that is embedded in it? Need another hint? Try sketching the figure. Want another hint? Put your finger horizontally across the center of the figure. What can you say about the remaining portion of the figure? Now remove your finger. What do you see in the horizontal center strip? Still puzzled? Take a look at the following two diagrams. Which figure is the central figure in the Shri Yantra? How do they differ?
The figure to the right is the central figure in the Shri Yantra. The figure to the left was constructed by taking out the horizontal strip in the middle ....
.... and replacing it with the SYMMETRICAL center that the remainder of the design visually IMPLIES and therefore causes one to expect. By now it is perhaps beginning to dawn on you that the Shri Yantra is actually a cleverly drawn visual slight-of-hand! It is an ancient illusion that is a precursor to similar 20th century
As in these cases, the illusion that is deliberately built into the Shri Yantra makes it very difficult to draw the figure freehand, as you no doubt came to realize if, in fact, you did try to sketch it. But it is no MERE illusion, meant merely to delight or entertain. It has a profound meaning, one which reveals itself only when the effects of the diagram are studied in relationship to how consciousness becomes capable of 'moving' in certain states induced by meditation. In their (1975) analysis of the figure, Evans and Fudjack remark,
.... how can we conceive of the [Shri Yantra] as an object for meditation? How is one to fixate attention on the diagram? Well, at first glance the diagram appears to be a symmetrical geometrical design and we know how to fixate attention on such a design by staring at the point of symmetry at its center. However, the Shri Yantra does not have a point around which the design is symmetrically fixed. Zimmer alludes to this by mentioning its 'elusive' center. So in focusing attention inward toward the center we wind up at a point, line, or configuration none of which is a satisfactory center of symmetry. We find ourselves compensating the small center triangle, for instance, by widening our scope of attention to it and some counterpart that promises symmetry. But we pass to this wider symmetry-suggestive area by a quantum leap, so to speak - we lose ourselves and find ourselves staring again at the entire configuration which suggests that the diagram is, after all, symmetrically composed. So we focus in toward the center again in search of that elusive point. We either become dissatisfied or distracted by some other activity or we discover the joke, the trick. The diagram is designed to appear symmetrical when we take it, in its entirety, as an object of attention, but is also cleverly designed to have no point of symmetry. It is an illustration of paradox. Not so much the paradox of time and eternity as the paradox of a symmetrical object without a point of symmetry - a logical contradiction. (C.O. Evans and J. Fudjack, CONSCIOUSNESS, 1976.) If you were asked to pantomime or draw the alternating narrowing and widening of the scope of attention that is induced by the Shri Yantra, how might you do that? What simple geometrical
Citing the analysis of Evans and Fudjack, philosopher of science John Schumacher (1989) described how the figure succeeds in '... opening attention, as it were, to the periphery of the visual field', that part of the field that is normally relegated to the background of consciousness. 'Consider the Shri Yantra', he says, ... an apparently symmetrical figure that actually has no center of symmetry: staring at such a figure turns into a constant shifting of the focus of attention from the whole to the center and back again, and again, until ultimately we resist the shift to the center, opening attention as well (Evans and Fudjack).
When Schumacher speaks of the 'opening' of attention, he has in mind a state of consciousness that is relatively uncommon, and sometimes referred to by the yogic term 'samadhi', as Evans and Fudjack originally pointed out. As they mentioned, the Shri Yantra is actually a visual double-bind that pits the tacit 'assumption of symmetry' (subtly suggested by the whole drawing) against the actual fact of the ABSENCE of a point of symmetry in the diagram. For the viewer, the only way 'out' of this visual double bind is to recognize the built-in contradiction, and then ...
... the realization that the diagram is a trick approximates 'enlightenment' insofar as this realization is concommitant with dropping the assumption that the diagram is symmetrical, since the third stage of Yoga, [as this is described in the Yoga Sutras], is one of purging oneself of assumptions or attitudes in respect of the object of meditation, a 'reduction of the subjective role of the mind to the utmost limit'. In The Science of Yoga this 'third stage' of Yoga meditation is described by Taimni as 'a new kind of movement or transformation of the mind in which consciousness begins to move IN DEPTH, as it were', instead of merely deflecting restlessly from the surface of one object to another. As a result of the individual's increased capacity to concentrate or diffuse awareness at will while holding the same object of meditation firmly in attention, the object '... is denuded of its coverings or non-essential elements' and can actually be psychically entered INTO in a way that it not normally possible in everyday consciousness. Evans and Fudjack suggest that the 'denuding' process that Taimni describes is tantamount to removing the object from its contextual underpinnings, resulting in a radical re-orientation of the individual toward it. A dropping off of the individual's habitual 'implicit attitudes toward the object' are the result, and the object is seen in a totally new light, as it were. The systolic/diastolic movement of mind that has brought this about may thus be construed as producing an altered or transcendent state of consciousness in which, in the words of Eliade, there is 'recovery, through Samadhi, of the ORIGINAL NON-DUALITY'. In other words, the anomalous assymmetry that has been cleverly designed into the center of the Shri Yantra not only generates the attentional 'vicious circle' that causes the viewer, in search of the elusive center of symmetry, to expand and contract her scope of attention. It simulates the kind of systolic/diastolic movement of mind that is capable of catapulting the mind beyond the vicious 'samsaric' (mundane) circle.... expansion and contraction of attention.
Something here about how this diagram progresses beyond a simple spiral -
the vortex, which is entree into
the 'torus'!!! and double spiral.
Like Emerson's 'wounded oyster', who 'mends his shell with perl', the flaw at the center of the Shri Yantra gives birth to an additional figure at the very center of the diagram, a superfluous ninth triangle. Whereas the pseudo-shri-yantra in the diagram above needs only eight triangles (four upward and four downward) to complete the figure in a pleasing fashion that has both horizontal and vertical symmetry, the anomaly at the center of the actual Shri Yantra brings into existence this remarkable ninth triangle, the curious 'black sheep' of the arrangment. But like 'the stone which the builder refused' in the Psalm of David (118:22), which 'comes to be the cornerstone', the ninth triangle winds up as the centerpiece of the arrangment. 'Sometimes the very sin of omission or commision for which we've been kicking ourselves', composer Stephen Nachmonovitch tells us, in a passage that is curiously reminiscent of the miraculous appearance - the VERITABLE virgin birth - of the ninth triangle in the Shri Yantra, 'may be the seed of our best work'.
The power of mistakes enables us to reframe creative blocks and turn them around. ... (In Christianity they speak of this realization as FELIX CULPA, the fortunate fall.) The troublesome parts of our work, the parts that are most baffling and frustrating, are in fact the growing edges. We see these opportunities the instant we drop our preconceptions and our self-importance. Stephen Nachmanovitch, Free Play - the Power of Improvisation in the Life and the Artsp.92 |