Chapter Twenty-Two
The Origins of the Vajrayana Tradition


      Let us begin by looking at the Vajrayana tradition briefly in the context of the 
Mahayana. The Mahayana tradition is divided into two paths, the practice of the 
perfections (Paramitayana) and the practice of the Vajrayana (Mantrayana). The 
Vajrayana is a part of the Mahayana tradition. There is no distinction between the two in 
terms of their starting point (the experience of suffering) and their goal (Buddhahood). 
The only difference is in methodology: whereas accomplishment of the path of the 
perfections requires three eons, the methods of the Vajrayana enable one to accelerate 
development and thereby progress more rapidly along the path.
There are three names by which the Vajrayana tradition is best known: Vajrayana, 
Mantrayana, and Tantrayana. Vajrayana is the way of the adamant, or diamond. Vajra 
means diamond, the substance more durable than any other. The vajra is also the 
thunderbolt or scepter wielded by Indra, the king of the Brahmanical gods. The vajra is 
therefore a symbol of indestructibility and also of mastery over the universe.
A mantra is a short formula that generally has three purposes. First, it is used as an aid to 
concentration. Just as one can use one's breath, an image of the Buddha, a blue flower, or 
an idea as an object on which to concentrate one's mind, so one can use the sound of a 
mantra. Second, it is an aid to memory. When one recites the mantra, Om mani padme 
hum, for example, one remembers not only the Bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara but also 
skillful means and wisdom, and the necessity of uniting them. Third, a mantra has the 
power to enhance one's spiritual development, in that the repeated use of mantras by 
meditation masters over many centuries has charged these mantras with a particular 
potency. The word mantra is composed of two parts: man comes from the term manas, 
which means 'mind,' and tra from tranam, 'to protect.' Mantra therefore means 
'something that protects the mind.' In general, it also means the esoteric or secret 
vehicle.
Tantra means the extension or continuity of knowledge. Literally, tantra is derived from 
the continuity of a thread in a fabric; by implication, it means following the thread of 
knowledge continuously and thus extending it to encompass all knowledge.
A distinction can be drawn between the literature of the Vajrayana and the literature of 
the Mahayana proper. Just as the Mahayana tradition is composed of the Paramitayana 
and Vajrayana, so Mahayana literature is composed of the sutras and tantras. Both the 
sutras and tantras are believed to have been spoken by the Buddha, and they form the 
canonical literature of the Mahayana and Vajrayana, respectively. There are a large 
number of tantras; some of the more important ones are the Guhyasamaja Tantra (The 
Collection of the Hidden or Secret Meaning), the Hevajra Tantra (The Tantra of 
Adamantine Bliss), and the Kalachakra Tantra (The Tantra of the Wheel of Time). In 
addition to the tantras, the Vajrayana tradition recognizes a large amount of commentarial 
literature attributed to Nagarjuna and Chandrakirti, and also to the eighty-four men of 
great attainment, or Mahasiddhas.   
Let us spend a moment on the origins of the tantras, since it is often asked whether they 
were indeed taught by the Buddha. From the very beginning of the Buddhist tradition, it 
was common for the Buddha to give teachings in all kinds of unusual circumstances. 
Sometimes he taught in response to the request of a god or another supra-human being, 
and even the Abhidharma is believed to have been taught by the Buddha to his mother 
after her death, when she was residing in the Heaven of the Thirty-Three. In the 
Mahayana tradition, it is generally accepted that Mahayana masters can receive 
instruction through extraordinary means. For example, the  fundamental texts of the Mind 
Only school are said to have been taught to Asanga by the future Buddha Maitreya (see 
Chapter 19). 
The tantras are said to have been transmitted in a similar way. The tantras are not 
unreasonable if we examine them carefully. They do not contradict the meaning of other 
Buddhist scriptures, as will become apparent in the chapters that follow. If the Buddha 
did not teach the tantras at once to everyone, surely it was because not everyone is able to 
appreciate their true significance. In the light of these considerations, there is no 
reasonable doubt that the Vajrayana literature is authentic.
The Vajrayana arose as a result of the evolution of three currents of thought--currents 
that were already present even in the Buddha's own day. These were (1) the democratic 
current, (2) the magical or ritual current, and (3) the symbolic current. The democratic 
current sought to avail lay people of the highest fruits of religious life, such as 
enlightenment. An example of the democratic current at work in the early period of the 
Buddhist tradition is the attainment of Arhatship by the Buddha's father, Shuddhodana 
while still a layman. In the Mahayana tradition, this current was accelerated and 
amplified, so that the figure of the householder Bodhisattva became  the norm.
Examples of the magical or ritual current occur in accounts in the Pali canon.  We find  
the Buddha pronouncing formulas of protection against snakebite and the perils of 
childbirth. There is also an account of the Buddha's conversion of a queen,  Kshema, in 
which the Buddha creates the vision of a lovely maiden who, as Kshema watches, 
becomes old and decrepit in a matter of moments. In this case the Buddha used 
extraordinary powers to create an apparition that would teach the truth of impermanence. 
This happens with great frequency in Mahayana literature, where we find the Buddha 
assuming various forms in order to teach. In the Mahayana, too, there is an increasing use 
of dharanis (verbal formulas that are precursors of mantras), as well as the continuation of 
various rituals of the early Buddhist period, particularly ordination rituals like the 
removal of the hair and donning of yellow robes.
The use of symbols was also present in the Buddhist tradition from the earliest period. 
For example, the symbol of the wheel was used to indicate the Dharma, and the symbol 
of the lute was used to explain the Middle Way. In the Mahayana, this use of symbols 
continued to play an important role. In these three currents of thought and action--the 
democratic, magic or ritual, and symbolic--we have the main streams that contributed to 
the growth of the Vajrayana tradition.
The phenomenon that we now identify as the Vajrayana tradition originated in India 
between the third and seventh century C.E. By the seventh century, the Vajrayana was 
flourishing throughout India. Nagarjuna and Asanga played a major role in its growth at 
the outset; later, the Vajrayana tradition was greatly influenced by the eighty-four 
Mahasiddhas. You may be surprised to find the names of Nagarjuna and Asanga 
occurring in this context, but the Vajrayana tradition is unanimous in calling them its 
founders. We will understand why this is true from the conceptual point of view when we 
examine the philosophical and religious background of the Vajrayana in Chapter 23. For 
now, let us look at the traditional biographies of Nagarjuna and Asanga, which will help 
us understand the environment in which the Vajrayana originated and developed.
According to the traditional Tibetan biographies of Nagarjuna, it was predicted that he 
would not survive beyond the age of seven. The biographies tell us that, when the boy's 
seventh birthday drew near, his parents, unwilling to watch him die, sent him away with 
companions and provisions on an extended journey. The accounts say that Nagarjuna 
proceeded north and eventually reached Nalanda University. There Nagarjuna met an 
adept professor by the name of Saraha. When Saraha heard of Nagarjuna's predicted 
early demise, he counseled him to recite the mantra of Aparamitayus, the Buddha of 
Limitless Life. After reciting the mantra throughout the night of his seventh birthday, 
Nagarjuna escaped the death that had been predicted for him.
Whether or not we want to credit this account as history, we can learn something rather 
important about the climate in which it was accepted as biography--namely, that it was 
one in which mantras were believed to have the power to influence reality.
In the biographies of Nagarjuna we also learn that, during a famine, he sustained his 
colleagues in the monastery by transforming ordinary, base objects into gold. Here we 
have an example of the symbolism of alchemy. This symbolism became important in the 
Vajrayana tradition because just as the alchemist transforms base objects into gold, so the 
Vajrayana adept transforms the impure and defiled experience of ordinary human beings 
into the experience of enlightenment.
If we look at the biographies of Asanga, we find very revealing stories there as well. 
According to these texts, Asanga retired to a cave to meditate on the future Buddha 
Maitreya, practicing for three years without success. Discouraged, he left the cave at the 
end of the third year and almost immediately came upon a man rubbing a piece of iron 
with a feather. When Asanga asked him what he was doing, the man said he was making 
a needle. Asanga thought that if people had such patience even in worldly tasks, perhaps 
he had been too hasty in abandoning his practice, so he returned to the cave and 
continued with his meditation.
Asanga meditated for twelve years in all without having any direct experience of 
Maitreya. At the end of the twelfth year, he once again left the cave. This time he came 
upon a dog lying ill by the side of the path, his body covered with festering wounds in 
which maggots were feeding. Having meditated on Maitreya for twelve years and thereby 
having developed great compassion, Asanga immediately wished to ease the suffering of 
the dog. He thought of removing the maggots but reflected that if he were to use his 
fingers, he would injure them. In order not to injure the maggots and yet relieve the dog, 
he bent down to remove the maggots with his tongue. The moment he did so, the dog 
disappeared into a burst of rainbow-colored light and the Bodhisattva Maitreya appeared 
before him.
Asanga asked, 'Where have you been all these years?' to which Maitreya replied, 'I have 
been with you all along--it is just that you were not able to see me. Only when you had 
developed your compassion and purified your mind sufficiently were you able to see 
me.' To demonstrate the truth of this, he asked Asanga to take him on his shoulders and 
walk through the village. Nobody saw anything on Asanga's shoulders except for one old 
woman, who asked him, 'What are you doing carrying that sick dog?'
Thus, in the biographies of Asanga, we find another important truth: that whatever we 
experience--the whole of reality--depends on the condition of our minds.
In the biographies of these two founding fathers, we can see various elements that are 
important to the Vajrayana tradition: the magical or ritual element, the alchemical 
element, and the element of the apparitional, or mind-dependent, nature of reality.
While Nagarjuna and Asanga are credited with being the founding fathers of Vajrayana, 
the eighty-four men of great attainment, or Mahasiddhas, undoubtedly performed the 
work of disseminating the Vajrayana throughout India. These men were examples of a 
new kind of religious personality. Not necessarily monks of orthodox Buddhism or 
priests of the old Brahmanism, these figures who played principal roles in the spread of 
Vajryana were laymen, naked ascetics, boatmen, potters, and kings. If we look at the 
accounts of these new heroes' lives and times, we will appreciate the spiritual climate that 
existed in India during the rise of the Vajrayana tradition. Let us look at the biographies 
of two of these Mahasiddhas, Virupa and Naropa.
Virupa is responsible for the origin and transmission of many important Vajrayana 
teachings. He was a professor at Nalanda University, where he taught philosophy all day 
and practiced Vajrayana all night. He practiced for years and recited thousands of mantras 
without success. Finally, he got fed up and threw his rosary into a latrine. The next night, 
while Virupa was sleeping, a vision of Nairatmya, a goddess of insubstantiality, appeared 
before him and told him that he had been reciting the mantra of the wrong deity. The next 
day Virupa retrieved his rosary from the latrine and went back to the Vajrayana, reciting 
and practicing the meditation on the Goddess Nairatmya. He achieved success in his 
practice and left his professorial post, wandering as a naked yogi throughout India.
Three important things are said of Virupa: he is said to have stopped the flow of the 
Ganges River so that he might cross it; to have drunk wine for three days nonstop in a 
wine shop; and to have held the sun immobile in the sky all the while. What do these 
feats mean? Stopping the flow of the Ganges means stopping the river of the afflictions, 
breaking the cycle of birth and death. Drinking wine for three days means enjoying the 
supreme bliss of emancipation. Holding the sun immobile in the sky means holding the 
light of the mind in the sky of omniscience.
In the biographies of Virupa, we have an indication of the premium that the Vajrayana 
places on experiential or direct knowledge. Virupa was a professor at Nalanda University, 
but that was not enough. In addition to the knowledge he acquired through study, he had 
to acquire direct, immediate knowledge in order to realize the truth for himself.
The same theme is evident in the biography of Naropa, who was also a professor at 
Nalanda. One day, while he was sitting in his cell surrounded by his books, an old woman 
appeared and asked him whether he understood the letter of the teaching contained in all 
his books. Naropa replied that he did. The woman was very pleased and then asked 
whether he understood the spirit of the teaching as well. Naropa thought that since she 
had been so pleased with his earlier answer, he would reply that he also understood the 
spirit of the teaching contained in the books. But the old woman then became angry, and 
said that although the first time he had told the truth, the second time he had lied. The old 
woman was Vajravarahi, another goddess of insubstantiality. As a consequence of the 
disclosure that he did not understand the spirit of what he had read, Naropa, too, left his 
professorial post and went forth as a seeker of the truth.
Let us conclude by looking at a few ideas from verses that are attributed to the 
Mahasiddhas. In these verses we see the new type of religious personality that they 
exemplified. We also see the use of various symbols to convey the importance of the 
transcendence of duality.
The first verse is as follows:

Dombi,(the name of an outcast woman) your hut lies outside the village. You are touched 
by the bald-headed and by the caste-conscious Brahmin. I am a naked Kapalika, an 
ascetic who wears a garland of skulls. I have no prejudices. I will take you for my maid.

      Here 'Dombi' is a symbol of Nairatmya, a goddess of insubstantiality.
'Your hut lies outside the village' means that, in order to really understand emptiness, 
one has to transcend conventional limitations. The rest of the verse means that, although 
emptiness may be touched by monks and Brahmins, only the yogi--the new type of 
religious figure who has no prejudices--can make emptiness his maid, that is, identify 
with emptiness.
A second example runs:

The wine woman brews her wine. The wine drinker sees the sign on the tenth door of the 
wine shop, and enters.

      Here 'the wine woman' is a symbol of Nairatmya. 'Wine' is the wine of nonduality, 
of going beyond this and that. 'The sign on the tenth door' means the tenth stage of the 
Bodhisattva path, the threshold of Buddhahood. Thus the verse means that the wine 
drinker enters the door of Buddhahood through abiding in nonduality.
With the increasing popularity of magic, ritual, and symbolism, and the gathering 
strength of the democratic currents that promised the highest fruits of religion to all types 
of persons, the Vajrayana became exceedingly widespread throughout India within the 
space of a few centuries.


Chapter Twenty-Three
Philosophical and Religious Foundations


      It is important to examine the philosophical and religious foundations of the 
Vajrayana so as to better understand how it fits into the Buddhist tradition as a whole. As 
we look at the Vajrayana tradition in more detail, we will find that it incorporates a 
number of important Mahayana ideas. Three religious and philosophical ideas that are 
prevalent in the Mahayana play a vital role in the Vajrayana as well. These are the ideas 
of (1) emptiness, (2) Mind Only, and (3) expedient or skillful means.
In Chapter 22, I had occasion to refer to the fact that the Tibetan tradition regards 
Nagarjuna and Asanga as the founders of the Vajrayana path. In addition to the Vajrayana 
elements contained in their biographies, as discussed in Chapter 22, there is an equally 
significant way Nagarjuna and Asanga can be considered Vajrayana's founding fathers--
namely, because of their advocacy and explanation of the ideas of emptiness and the 
primacy of consciousness (or Mind Only). A number of Vajrayana works in the Tibetan 
canon are attributed to Nagarjuna and Asanga, though this attribution is disputed by 
modern scholars. Whether or not Nagarjuna and Asanga actually wrote specifically 
Vajrayana works, it is quite clear that, without the ideas they put forward, the Vajrayana 
would be unintelligible, and very likely impossible as well.
Let us look first at the idea of emptiness, which is so characteristic of the writings of 
Nagarjuna. In Chapter 22, I referred to a situation in which Nagarjuna is said to have 
transformed base objects into gold. This can be seen as a metaphor for the main project 
with which the Vajrayana is concerned: transforming common experience into the 
experience of enlightenment. If we look at this analogy of alchemy, we see that, for 
transformation to be possible, the base object cannot have any real, permanent nature of 
its own. For instance, if a piece of coal were to have an unchanging, intrinsic nature, it 
could never be changed into anything else. Yet we know that a piece of coal can, under 
certain conditions, become a diamond.
The idea of an unchanging, independent character is expressed in Sanskrit by the term 
svabhava, which means 'own-being' or 'self-existence.' The absence of own-being is 
nihsvabhava, which is synonymous with emptiness. Emptiness is, of course, not 
nothingness. It is, rather, a kind of openness, a situation in which phenomena exist 
dependent on causes and conditions.
Although this idea of emptiness is most commonly associated with Nagarjuna and the 
Middle Way school, like the other important doctrines of the Mahayana, it also exists in 
the Theravada tradition. For example, according to the Theravada canon, the Buddha 
likened all phenomena to the flame of an oil lamp, which exists dependent on the oil and 
the wick. The flame is nothing in itself. Similarly, all phenomena depend on causes and 
conditions.
In the Mahayana, where this idea is elaborated at great length, all phenomena are likened 
to a magical illusion. An illusory elephant, for example, appears dependent on some 
basis, like a hill of earth or a piece of wood, and is brought into being by a magician 
using certain magical spells and so forth. Thus illusory appearances come about 
dependent on certain causes and conditions. Similarly, all phenomena exist dependent on 
certain causes and conditions. It is because of this dependence, this emptiness, that 
transformation is possible.
Nagarjuna says that if there were any own-being, transformation by means of the path of 
liberation would be impossible. In other words, if that lump of coal we referred to a 
moment ago had an unchangeable nature, it could never become a diamond. Similarly, if 
each and every one of us had an own-being or permanent existence as ordinary, afflicted 
sentient beings--if this were our identity--then no matter how much we practiced the 
Dharma, we could never become enlightened. It is because we are subject to the 
afflictions (ignorance, attachment, and aversion) that we have the nature of ordinary 
sentient beings. But if we replace ignorance with wisdom, attachment with lack of 
attachment, and aversion with love and compassion, we can change these conditions. By 
changing these conditions, we can change the nature of our being and become Buddhas. 
Emptiness is therefore absolutely necessary to allow for transformation from the 
condition of samsara to the liberation of nirvana.
Let us look now at the second idea, that of the role of the mind in experience. Here 
Asanga and his younger brother Vasubandhu made two general points: (a) that objects 
have no stable or fixed form of appearance, and (b) that objects appear even without an 
external stimulus.
Like other major tenets of the Mahayana and Vajrayana, these two points are not absent 
from the Theravada tradition. The first is evident in a number of Buddhist texts. For 
example, the incident involving the Elder Tissa is well known within Theravada circles: 
when asked whether he had seen a woman on the road, Tissa replied that he did not know 
whether it was a man or a woman, but only that he had seen a heap of bones going up the 
road. This shows that objects have no stable or fixed form of appearance; what appears as 
an attractive woman to one man appears as a heap of bones to another.
The Mahayana tradition elaborates on this by recourse to the experience of a number of 
altered states of consciousness. For example, one feels the earth move, or that one has 
enormous power, when one has imbibed too much alcohol. Similarly, under the influence 
of psychedelic substances, one's perception of objects is different. In his Twenty Verses 
on Cognition Only, Vasubandhu illustrates this with reference to the experience of the 
beings of the six realms (see also Chapter 19). There, he spells out the diverse ways 
objects appear depending on the subjective conditions of the perceiver, concluding that 
objects appear in different shapes and forms to different sentient beings according to their 
karmic condition.
The second point, that objects appear even without an external stimulus, is also found in 
the early Theravada tradition. For example, in Buddhaghosha's explanation of the three 
stages of concentration (preliminary, proximate, and accomplished), the image of 
meditation becomes internalized at the proximate stage. If a meditator uses, say, a blue 
disk at the first stage, at the second stage that disk becomes internalized and he now 
meditates on a mental replica of it. Consequently, whereas on the first stage he uses a 
physical object as his object of meditation, on the second stage of concentration he no 
longer needs that external support. The object now appears to him without the need of an 
external stimulus. We can also see this in dreams, where the dreamer experiences objects 
without any external stimuli.
Vasubandhu adds to this the case of the wardens of the hell realms. If these wardens were 
reborn in the hells because of their own karma, they, too, would experience the sufferings 
there. But since wardens are in the hells simply to torment hell beings, Vasubandhu 
suggests that they are mere creations of the minds of the hell beings themselves. In other 
words, because of their unwholesome karma, hell beings project images of wardens who 
then proceed to torment them.
In all these cases--the experiences of meditation, of dreaming, and of hell beings--
objects appear without any external stimulus. This is why it is said that, just as a painter 
might paint a portrait of the demon and then be terrified by it, so unenlightened beings 
paint a picture of the six realms of samsara and then are tormented and terrified by that 
picture. Through the power of our minds, we create the six realms of existence and then 
circle in them endlessly. We are able to create these six realms precisely because there is 
no own-being.
These first two ideas--the idea of emptiness and the idea of the role of the mind in 
creating experience--go together. Objects have no independent existence. Their existence 
is relative to causes and conditions--most importantly, the mental causes and conditions 
of ignorance, attachment, aversion, greed, anger, jealousy, and the like. Because of these 
mental conditions, and because of the fact that phenomena are empty, the mind constructs 
and creates experience in a particular form, in the form of the suffering of the six realms.
Just as the mind can work unconsciously and automatically to create the experience of 
suffering in the six realms, so the mind can be made to work deliberately and consciously 
to bring about a change in that experience, to bring about the experience of liberation. 
This is quite clear in the example of the experience of meditation that we considered a 
moment ago. Ordinarily, the mind functions unconsciously and automatically to create 
experience. We respond to an object, such as the form of a woman, because of our 
habitual conditioning, because we are subject to desire and ignorance. In meditation we 
train the mind to function in a chosen, decisive way to change our experience. Through 
the experience of meditation, we can change our perception of the object in the same way 
the Elder Tissa changed his perception so that he was able to see the form of a woman as 
only a heap of bones.
Again, we ordinarily perceive different colors automatically, in an undirected and 
unspecified way. Through meditation, we can alter that situation so that we can, at will, 
visualize and create a particular patch of color within our mental experience. The idea of 
emptiness and the idea of the creative power of the mind are clearly present in the 
structure of the Vajrayana techniques of meditation, which we will be looking at in 
greater detail in Chapter 29. Emptiness and the creative power of the mind together give 
us the ability and the methodology needed to transform our experience. We can transform 
our experience because nothing has any nature of its own, and the way we transform it is 
through using the power of our minds to create and determine the way we experience 
objects.
As mentioned in Chapter 22, the Vajrayana is one with the Mahayana both in its starting 
point and in its goal. The fundamental idea in the Mahayana tradition is the 
enlightenment thought or mind (bodhichitta, the resolve to achieve enlightenment for the 
sake of all sentient beings), and the fruit of this resolve is the attainment of Buddhahood, 
with its transcendental dimension and its phenomenal dimension. The phenomenal 
dimension is an expression of the Buddha's great compassion, which manifests itself in 
skillful means--the third idea prevalent in the Mahayana and crucial to the Vajrayana as 
well.
Skillful means is the ability to reach all sentient beings at their own levels. In many 
Mahayana sutras, this is explained with the help of analogies, such as the parable of the 
three carts and that of rainfall and the light of the sun and moon in the Lotus Sutra (see 
Chapter 15) The phenomenal dimension of the Buddha appears to all sentient beings 
according to their particular needs and abilities. It manifests itself in a variety of forms, 
such as that of the beautiful maiden whom the Buddha caused to appear for the sake of 
Kshema (see Chapter 22). In many Mahayana discourses and treatises, the Buddha 
manifests himself in the form of ordinary people or gods in order to assist sentient beings 
along the path to liberation.
It is in this way, too, that the Buddha manifests himself in the special forms of the deities 
of the Vajrayana pantheon according to the needs and propensities of sentient beings. For 
example, in the case of the five celestial Buddhas, the Buddha manifests himself in five 
special forms that correspond to the particular karmic propensities of sentient beings. 
Thus he manifests as the Buddha Vairochana especially for sentient beings whose 
primary affliction is ignorance, while it is Akshobhya who appears to those whose 
primary affliction is ill-will and Amitabha to those whose primary affliction is 
attachment. The Buddha manifests himself in these different forms to best assist different 
sentient beings with particular karmic problems.
These manifestations of the Buddha interact with sentient beings to bring about their 
liberation. There is a kind of interdependence between the manifestations of the Buddha 
(in the forms of the Heavenly Buddhas and of deities of the Vajrayana pantheon) and the 
development of sentient beings through the practice of meditation. To illustrate this, let 
me return to the story of Asanga and the future Buddha Maitreya. Asanga meditated for 
twelve years before he was able to perceive Maitreya. Maitreya was with him all along, 
but Asanga had to develop his vision so that he was in a position to experience Maitreya 
directly. In the same way, the manifestations of the Buddha are around us all the time, but 
to perceive them directly we must develop our minds through meditation, through the 
careful purification of our beings. This purification of the mind may be likened to the 
process of tuning a television set to receive a particular transmission. The transmission is 
there all along, but unless and until the receiver is tuned to the correct frequency to 
receive it, the picture cannot be seen.
If we remember these three principles--the principle of emptiness, the principle of the 
power of the mind to determine the nature of our experience, and the principle of skillful 
means, we will be able to understand how the Vajrayana path can work. We will also be 
able to understand the diversity of the forms and images that the Vajrayana uses to 
expedite the process of transformation.


Chapter Twenty-Four
Methodology


      As noted in Chapters 22 and 23, the Vajrayana and the Mahayana are identical in their 
views of the beginning and end of the path. Where the two differ is in methodology. The 
special claim of the Vajrayana is that it provides a more skillful and rapid means of 
getting from that beginning (the initial situation of suffering) to the end (the goal of 
Buddhahood). Therefore a look at its methodology is particularly important to an 
understanding of the Vajrayana. 
Let us begin by discussing the mechanism of the initial situation of suffering. The 
fundamental cause of suffering has traditionally been called ignorance. But ignorance 
means the dichotomy or duality between subject and object, between self and other. 
There are different ways to deconstruct or dismantle this duality which is the substance of 
ignorance. In the Abhidharma literature (see Chapter 19), the emphasis is on the 
dismantling of the self. By taking apart the self--one pole of the duality-- the subject is 
dismantled. And ultimately, dismantling the subject implies dismantling the object, too. 
This is why great emphasis is placed on the analytical dissection of the self. This has been 
the main thrust of the Abhidharmic tradition, although not its exclusive contents, since 
the Abhidharma Pitaka also contains the important Book of Causal Relations (Patthana), 
in which the object as well as the subject is dismantled.
In the Mahayana and Vajrayana traditions, there is a slightly different approach, in that 
these traditions begin by attacking the object in various ways. For instance, in Chapter 23 
we discovered that the object is not stable in its mode of appearance, and that an object 
can appear even without any external stimulus. Thus the object is like an object seen in a 
dream; it is unreal.
The discovery that the object is unreal raises the question of the status of the self, or 
subject. In the Mahayana and Vajrayana, the general procedure for deconstructing the 
subject-object or self-and-other duality follows these lines: We begin by showing that the 
object is dreamlike and unreal, and then apply our understanding of interdependence to 
reveal that, if the object is unreal, then the subject which is dependent on the object is 
also dreamlike and unreal. If the seed is unreal, the sprout, too, must be unreal. This 
brings us to the understanding of the emptiness of subject and object. This process is 
reflected to an extent in the attitudes of the two main Mahayana schools--the Mind Only 
school, which focuses on the dreamlike nature of experience, and the Middle Way school, 
which focuses on the idea of interdependence.
In addition to this fundamental duality--the subject-object or self-other duality--there 
are many others that must be removed if we are going to achieve enlightenment. The 
other major duality which produces suffering, and on which the Mahayana and the 
Vajrayana focus, is the duality between samsara and nirvana. In general, this is a duality 
between what is conditioned and what is unconditioned. Samsara is conditioned and 
nirvana is unconditioned. This is reflected in the technical description of the phenomena 
of samsara as conditioned phenomena and nirvana as unconditioned reality. Samsara is 
conditioned because it is characterized by origination and destruction, by birth and death, 
whereas nirvana is unconditioned because it is characterized by non-origination and non-
destruction.
But is this duality real or is it merely constructed? The position of the Mahayana and 
Vajrayana is that the duality between samsara and nirvana is unreal. It is merely 
constructed by, and hence an illusion of, the mind. This is shown by an analysis of the 
characteristics of samsara--that is, by an analysis of origination and destruction.
There are various ways origination and destruction are examined within the Mahayana 
and Vajrayana traditions. One is found in Nagarjuna's extensive examination of 
origination in his Foundation Stanzas of the Middle Way (Mulamadhyamakakarika.). 
There he considers the four possibilities of origination: (i) from self, (ii) from other, (iii) 
from both, and (iv) without a cause (see Chapter 18). But here we can content ourselves 
with an analogical examination of origination, in which it is said that if objects are like 
objects seen in a dream, then there is neither any real origination nor any real destruction.
In the Samadhiraja Sutra, it is mentioned that if a young, virgin woman has a dream in 
which she gives birth to a child, and in that same dream she sees that the child dies, she 
will (of course) experience first happiness and then sorrow in the dream. But when she 
awakes she will realize that there was no real birth or death of a child. Similarly, all 
phenomena have no real origination and no real destruction. If, in reality, all things have 
no origination and no destruction, then the characteristics of samsara no longer hold good 
as real characteristics. The distinction between samsara and nirvana collapses, and we are 
left with the conclusion that, as Nagarjuna puts it in the Mulamadhyamakakarika, there is 
not even the subtlest difference between samsara and nirvana. If there is no origination 
and no destruction, then samsara's characteristics are the same as nirvana's, since nirvana 
is characterized by the absence of origination and destruction. There is, therefore, no 
difference between samsara and nirvana.
To summarize, we arrive at the identity of samsara and nirvana first through a 
dismantling of our conception of samsara. We define samsara as conditioned. We say that 
the characteristics of the conditioned are origination and destruction, but find that there is 
no real origination and no real destruction. If samsara does not have these characteristics, 
then its opposite, nirvana, has no meaning. In this way we arrive at the identity of 
samsara and nirvana.
Everything I have said thus far about ignorance being the fundamental cause of suffering, 
about the duality of subject and object and of samsara and nirvana, and about the 
emptiness of each pole of these dualities--all this holds true for the Mahayana as well as 
for the Vajrayana tradition. There is complete agreement between the two up to this point. 
There is also complete agreement about the distinction between indirect knowledge and 
direct knowledge.
The distinction between understanding the truth intellectually and seeing the truth directly 
is, of course, recognized throughout the Buddhist tradition. For example, in the 
Theravada tradition, there is recognition of the difference between understanding the Four 
Noble Truths intellectually and seeing them directly. In the Mahayana and Vajrayana 
traditions, the crux of the matter is whether our knowledge of the identity of samsara and 
nirvana is intellectual or direct and experiential.
If we follow the procedures laid down in the Perfection of Wisdom literature--the 
arguments spelled out by Nagarjuna, Asanga, and Vasubandhu--we arrive at an 
intellectual, indirect understanding of the non-differentiation of subject and object, 
samsara and nirvana. It is with the quicker, more skillful methods by which indirect 
intellectual understanding is turned into direct and transforming understanding that 
Vajrayana methodology comes into play.
The key to an understanding of Vajrayana methodology per se is an understanding of the 
emptiness of all things. All phenomena (dharmas) are nothing in themselves. They are 
what they are insofar as they are conceived of by the mind. Let me refer to two examples 
from the Theravada tradition to illustrate this point of the emptiness, or neutrality, of all 
phenomena. In the Discourse of the Water Snake, Alagaddupama Sutta, the Buddha 
likens all phenomena to a water-snake and to a raft. He says that someone who is skilled 
at handling a water-snake can capture and handle it without coming to grief, but someone 
who is not skilled will come to grief if he tries to capture one. He also says that 
phenomena are like a raft, in that we do not need to hold onto them, just as we do not 
need to hold onto a raft once we have crossed a river.
The Buddha's discourse expresses very brilliantly and succinctly the emptiness and 
neutrality of phenomena. All phenomena are neither this nor that. They are neutral, 
dependent on how we take or use them. It is not in the nature of a water-snake to cause 
grief; rather, grief depends on the manner in which the water-snake is caught. Similarly, a 
knife is neither true nor false, but one who grasps it by the blade is surely in error. If we 
grasp a knife by its blade, we hurt ourselves, but if we grasp it by the handle, we are able 
to use it. If we use a raft to cross a river, we are using it properly; if we carry the raft on 
our shoulders after crossing the river, we are making a mistake. The usefulness or lack of 
usefulness of phenomena lies not in phenomena themselves but in the way we use them.
This is true not only of objects but also of mental states like desire and aversion. For 
example, there is the story of the Buddha's instruction to his cousin Nanda, who was 
persuaded to join the Order on the day he was to have married. After his ordination, 
Nanda began to miss his fianc?e and regret that he had entered the Order. The Buddha 
was aware of Nanda's state of mind, so he took him on a trip to the heavens to show him 
the lovely, heavenly damsels there. Nanda was so infatuated by the maidens in the 
heavens that, when he was asked how they compared to his fianc?e, he replied that, 
beside them, his fianc?e looked like the skeleton of a female monkey. The Buddha 
advised Nanda that if he wanted to enjoy the heavenly damsels in his next life, the best 
way to do so was to remain in the Buddhist Order and practice the Dharma.
Nanda went back to the Order with renewed zeal. When the other monks found out why 
Nanda was practicing so diligently, they teased him. Eventually Nanda realized the 
hollowness of his motivation and became an Arhat known as the foremost of those who 
are able to control their senses. This is an example of the neutrality of the mental state of 
desire. At a particular point in Nanda's progress, the Buddha used desire as a motivation 
to get Nanda to settle down and practice diligently.
Thus we can see that not only are objects like water-snakes, rafts, and knives neutral and 
dependent on how we take or use them, but mental states, also, are nothing in themselves: 
they depend on how we use them, whether for spiritual progress or spiritual retardation. 
This is why the Buddha said that 'killing anger benefits the killer.' Aversion is neither 
good nor bad. If one is averse to unwholesome actions, this is conducive to the goal of 
liberation, but if one is averse to wholesome actions, this is not conducive to good.
To reiterate, all phenomena are basically neutral or empty. How they affect our progress 
depends on how we take them and what we do with them. This is the insight or attitude 
which has been developed in the Vajrayana and which has enabled the Vajrayana to use 
particular methods that utilize all phenomena for spiritual progress. This is the key to the 
acceleration that Vajrayana methods bring to spiritual progress.
To the extent that we use only part of our experience to make progress toward the goal of 
liberation, our progress is, inevitably, slower. For example, how much time do any of us 
spend in meditation or in recitation? Most of our time is spent instead on eating, sleeping, 
or chatting with our friends. We are wasting all that time, and all that experience is not 
being used to make progress toward the goal of enlightenment. It is here that the 
Vajrayana makes use of the idea of the basic neutrality of all phenomena, for if all 
phenomena are empty, why not make use of them--all sights, sounds, and mental 
states--for spiritual progress?
This is why the Vajrayana is said to regard all sights, sounds, and mental states as deities, 
mantras, and the transcendental dimension of Buddhahood. Everything that we see, hear, 
and think is really neutral and empty. If we take these sights, sounds, and thoughts to be 
manifestations of the pure vision of enlightenment, we can utilize these elements of 
experience to contribute to our progress toward enlightenment. I will explain this in 
greater detail in the chapters that follow, but let me give you an example at this point. The 
cup that I am holding belongs to the aggregate of form, which is a manifestation of the 
celestial Buddha Vairochana. The object, which belongs to the aggregate of form, is 
therefore not simply a cup but a dimension of the Buddha Vairochana. This is what is 
meant when it is said in the Vajrayana that one regards all sights as the deities, as the 
particular manifestations of a purified reality. By a particular act of the mind, we can 
similarly regard all sounds as mantras and all mental states as the transcendental 
dimension of Buddhahood.
This careful utilization of sights, sounds, and mental states is especially evident in the 
form of the Vajrayana ritual of meditation. In this context the Vajrayana practice of 
meditation may be likened to a raft--a raft that is composed of sights, sounds, and mental 
states. In the Vajrayana ritual, for example, there is a visual component, which is the 
visualization of any one of the deities of the pantheon; an auditory component, which is 
the recitation of the mantra; and a mental component, which is the identification of the 
meditator with the object of meditation and the cultivation of the understanding of 
nonduality and emptiness.
This will become clearer in later chapters. For the time being, I would like to conclude by 
observing that the ritual of Vajrayana meditation practice employs these three 
components--visual, auditory, and mental--in order to create a 'raft of ritual' that 
utilizes a variety of phenomena, and that this provides a particularly efficient form of 
meditation.
Those of you who practice breathing meditation or other forms of meditation will 
appreciate the truth of this. If you are trying to meditate only on your breath, there may be 
a point at which your mind becomes tired of trying to concentrate only on the breath and 
begins to wander. If you are chanting, your mind may become tired of the words of the 
chant. If you are doing insight meditation, your mind may become tired of the penetrative 
analysis of phenomena. Because of the multifaceted character of Vajrayana meditation 
practice, when the mind becomes tired and irritated and is no longer able to concentrate 
on the visualized form of the deity, it can concentrate on the mantra; when it becomes 
tired of concentrating on the mantra, it can concentrate on emptiness; and when it 
becomes tired of that, it can go back to the visualized form of the deity.
Indeed, Vajrayana ritual is more effective as a means of meditation precisely because of 
its multidimensional character: rather than setting up a confrontation with the tendency of 
the mind to become distracted, it utilizes that tendency. Thus Vajrayana meditation 
actually lets the mind wander, although it is only allowed to wander within a particular 
compass of religious or spiritual meaning, so that no matter what the mind rests on--
whether the visualized form of the deity, the mantra, the identification of the meditator 
with the form of the deity, or even the emptiness of that form--it is resting on something 
that has spiritual power.
The Vajrayana ritual is also like a raft in the sense that it is not anything to be grasped. It 
is a means, or method, and nothing more. This ritual is also not supposed to be confined 
to sessions of formal meditation but to be extended to all our activities, both within and 
outside of meditation sessions. While in the meditation session, we visualize the form of 
the deity, recite the mantra, and cultivate both an understanding of identity with the form 
of the deity and an understanding of the emptiness of that form. Thereafter, this view is 
extended beyond the limits of the meditation session to encompass all our activities.
Wherever we are and whatever we do, the totality of our experience is made a part of this 
'raft of meditation practice,' so that we can incorporate and utilize all this energy and 
experience in our practice. As we go about our daily activities, we perceive sights, 
sounds, and mental states in this special, transformed way. In other words, we grasp the 
elements of our entire experience by the handle, not by the blade. Through the techniques 
of Vajrayana meditation, we learn to handle these sights, sounds, and mental states 
skillfully, so that we do not come to grief. We learn to handle sights that we see, sounds 
that we hear, and mental states that we experience so that, instead of being ensnared by 
these experiences, we can use them for our mental development and progress toward 
enlightenment. 



Chapter Trenty-Five
Myth and Symbolism


      In Chapter 24 we talked about how the special characteristic of the Vajrayana is its 
use of the totality of experience to achieve direct or immediate knowledge of nonduality. 
In turning the totality of experience to the use of this spiritual or religious endeavor, it is 
important that we select elements of experience that are specially powerful and 
meaningful. This does not exclude using the totality of our experience for our spiritual 
progress. Rather, it means that we focus first on types of experience that are particularly 
powerful and meaningful, using them as the building blocks of our transformed vision. 
We then extend that transformed experience so that it eventually encompasses all 
experiences, even those that were originally less significant.
Initially, then, we select elements of experience that are specially potent and powerful. In 
the process, certain archetypal elements are isolated. Archetypal elements of experience 
are those that have a very deep-seated mode of being within both an individual 
consciousness and our collective consciousness (that is, the sum total of all individual 
consciousness).
Let us look at some specific examples of archetypal experience. The first belongs to the 
realm of myth. The most dominant feature of myth is the struggle between good and evil. 
This is perhaps the primordial, fundamental mythological theme, and has been worked 
out in myths from the beginning of time up to the present day. For example, the crux of 
the contest between Rama and Ravana in the Ramayana is the struggle between the forces 
of good and the forces of evil, and this continues to be a dominant theme in most popular 
myths. Not so long ago, we even saw the theme of the struggle between good and evil 
mythologized in the popular science-fiction movie Star Wars.
We see this theme also in the attitudes and rhetoric of politicians and national leaders. For 
example, when U.S. President Ronald Reagan called the USSR 'the Evil Empire,' he was 
borrowing a phrase from Star Wars to indicate his conviction that the struggle between 
the democratic world and the communist world was one of good against evil. This is a 
very important theme in human culture. When we call this theme a mythological one, it 
does not devalue it. If anything, this increases its value because it gives that theme a 
superhuman dimension, a universal significance. To call a theme mythological does not 
make it unreal--in fact, it makes it more so.
Good and evil are, of course, a duality (like subject and object, self and other, samsara 
and nirvana, and the rest).The transcendence of the duality of good and evil, the mastery 
of and assimilation of evil by good, is represented symbolically in the appearance of the 
deities of the Vajrayana pantheon. In Chapter 24, we talked about how we could 
transform elements of experience and put make use of them for our spiritual progress. 
What we have here is the mastery of what we would normally think of as evil by good--
namely, the assimilation and transformation of the mythical totality of evil in the form of 
specific elements of the Vajrayana pantheon.
This explains the general appearance of the deities of the Vajrayana pantheon. Those of 
you who have seen tantric paintings and sculptures may have wondered why the deities 
wear necklaces of severed heads, ornaments of bone, and so forth, and also at the 
prevalence of animal skins, skeletons, weapons, and the like. Why, in Vajrayana 
iconography, is there so much of the macabre?
The answer is that the ornaments of bone, human and animal parts, weapons, and so on 
are all paraphernalia of the forces of evil as they are conceived of in our collective 
consciousness. The fact that they are now worn and wielded by Vajrayana deities 
symbolizes several things: (1) it symbolizes the victory of good over evil; (2) it indicates 
the use of the power of evil for the purpose of good; and most importantly, (3) it 
represents the union and transcendence of the duality of good and evil, nirvana and 
samsara.
On a mythical scale, this is how we are to understand the particular nature of the 
appearance of the Vajrayana deities--as an expression of the mastery and transformation 
of evil, and as an expression of the transcendence of the duality of good and evil.
The Vajrayana also promotes the equality of objects of desire and aversion. This equality 
implies transcendence of the opposites of desire and aversion, good and evil. In the 
symbolism of the Vajrayana, we find objects of desire and aversion in close proximity. 
For example, we find jewels and severed heads, a desirable female form and a corpse, 
lotuses, the sun and the moon and blood, meat and bones side by side in the same portrait. 
All these objects occurring side by side are symbolic of the transcendence of the dualities 
of good and evil, desirable and undesirable, pure and impure, and the like.
Let us examine, in slightly more concrete terms, the particular forms of some of the 
archetypal symbols we find in the Vajrayana, many of which have still to do with the 
transcendence of duality. First let us consider the symbol of the union of male and 
female, which is so dominant in the Vajrayana tradition. This is a symbol that is 
archetypal in the sense that it has always been a fundamental part of the experience of 
living beings. It is a deep-seated element in the individual and collective consciousness of 
living beings. The union of male and female has served as a symbol of the union of 
opposites--very often as a symbol of the union of heaven and earth--in the arts, poetry, 
and literature of most cultures at one time or another.
In the Vajrayana, we find the prevalent use of this very powerful and meaningful element 
of experience to depict or symbolize the union of emptiness and form, nirvana and 
samsara, wisdom and compassion. The female aspect stands for emptiness, nirvana, and 
wisdom, as we saw in Chapter 22, where insubstantiality was represented in the form of 
the goddesses Nairatmya and Vajravarahi. The male aspect stands for form (phenomenal 
appearance), samsara, and compassion (skillful means). The female can also stand for 
emptiness and the male for luminosity, and so on.
Another prevalent symbol used in Vajrayana iconography is the tree, which is a symbol 
of life, growth, and development. When taking refuge at the beginning of a session of 
Vajrayana meditation, the meditator often pictures the objects of refuge placed in a tree. 
Like the union of male and female, the tree is an archetypal symbol that has cross-cultural 
significance.
I have been surprised to find the tree appearing in the symbolism of almost all the major 
religious and cultural traditions throughout the world. In the Christian tradition, we find 
the tree of knowledge in the Garden of Eden. In the Buddhist tradition, too, the tree is an 
important archetypal symbol. Specifically, the refuge tree may be identified with the pipal 
or bodhi tree. But the tree of enlightenment goes back to a period in Indian cultural 
history before the time of the Buddha Shakyamuni. It seems also to have been important 
to the people of the Indus Valley civilization, which flourished in the third millennium 
B.C.E.
If we look further at Vajrayana iconography, we often find a deity placed upon a throne 
in a tree. The throne is an archetypal symbol of royalty, of sovereignty and mastery, as 
are the crown and scepter. You may recall that in Chapter 22 we said that the Vajrayana 
takes its name from the vajra, the scepter of Indra, which is a symbol of mastery. There is 
no doubt that these symbols are important in our individual and collective consciousness. 
Even in republican societies, there is a great fascination with royalty. Americans probably 
read more about the English royal family than do Englishmen. There are probably more 
television documentaries and dramatizations about the English royal family produced in 
America than in England. Even the institution of the presidency has come to be 
associated with all kinds of symbols of sovereignty.
Like the symbol of the tree, royal symbolism is found in most of the major religious 
traditions. Jesus spoke about the kingdom of God and was called the king of the Jews. 
The Buddha has been called the king of the Dharma and the king of physicians. The first 
discourse the Buddha delivered, popularly known as The Discourse of the Turning of the 
Wheel of the Dharma (Dhammachakkappavattana Sutta), is actually entitled The 
Discourse of the Founding of the Kingdom of the Dharma.
Like the tree, light and water occupy prominent places in Vajrayana symbolism. Fire 
often surrounds the deities. Light is an important medium for identification between the 
meditator and the visualized forms of the deities. Fire and light are very important and 
meaningful elements of our human experience. It is probably through the discovery of 
fire that people became civilized. All of this is still very clearly evident today, for don't 
we all like to kindle, watch, and manipulate fire? In the Vajrayana tradition, fire stands 
for the flames that consume and destroy ignorance.
Water is more crucial to our existence than food and is, of course, necessary for the 
fertility of the earth. Not surprisingly, water also plays an important role in the Vajrayana, 
where it is the symbol of initiation--the tantric ritual which stimulates the seed of 
spiritual potential. Just as by watering the soil, a seed of grain comes to life, so by being 
sprinkled in the ritual of initiation, the seed of one's spiritual potential puts forth its 
sprout, which can then grow into the fully realized and transformed mode of being, the 
reality of Buddhahood.
The symbol of the lotus is not peculiar only to the Vajrayana but exists in all Buddhist 
iconography. It is more culturally specific than the other symbols we have considered 
thus far. The lotus is perhaps most closely linked with the Indian cultural consciousness, 
where it is a powerful symbol of spiritual growth and transformation. For this reason, it 
appears in the Vajrayana as a symbol of spiritual growth, transcendence, and 
transformation.
In the Vajrayana, there is also the very particular use of letters, words, and mantras. This 
is, again, archetypal, in the sense that it is a deep-seated and powerful element in the 
individual and collective consciousness. For 'primitive' and 'modern' people alike, the 
name of a thing is a source of power over it. Ancient peoples achieved mastery over the 
forces of nature by giving those forces names. For instance, by calling the thunderstorm 
'Indra,' the old Brahmins established a mechanism and degree of control over it. 
This is also clearly reflected in our own experience. If someone side-swipes your car in 
the parking lot, you do not have any power over him or her if you do not know their 
name, but if you know the name of the person responsible, you can claim damages. 
Names are, therefore, power. In a sense, a name creates the reality of the object for which 
it stands. For example, when I say the word 'diamond,' in a sense the reality of that 
object is created for all of us. Recognizing this power of letters, names, and words, the 
Vajrayana employs them in the form of mantras in order to bring about a certain kind of 
reality.
In the Vajrayana, the naive assumption of the power inherent in names that was 
characteristic of early human existence is replaced by a critical understanding of the way 
names and words work to create a particular reality. The way they work is through the 
power of the mind. It is the power of the mind that enables letters, words, names, and 
mantras to possess a particular kind of creative reality.
Thus we find, in Vajrayana symbolism, a liberal and intentional use of these verbal 
symbols as vehicles for concentrating the mind's power to create and transform. For 
example, we symbolize the mind with the Sanskrit syllable Hum, and use that symbol as 
a vehicle for representing the mind visually as the seed of the various deities of the 
Vajrayana pantheon. A deep-seated archetypal role is played by letters, words, and names 
in our individual and collective consciousness. The Vajrayana uses this archetypal power 
in its symbolism, in order to describe the mind and facilitate its use in mastering and 
transforming experience.
Vajrayana iconography also recognizes the importance and significance of colors as 
symbols of certain tendencies and attitudes. This is something that has also been 
acknowledged by modern psychologists. In the mid-1930s, a famous American 
psychologist persuaded a popular cigarette company to change the logo on its packaging 
from green to red; overnight, sales shot up by 50 to 60 percent. When that limited run of 
packages with the red logo was sold, the manufacturer went back to the green logo and 
sales dropped by the same amount. When the logo was changed to red again, sales shot 
up again. Ever since, advertisers and designers have paid very close attention to the 
effects of color on prospective buyers.
This is also recognized in the Vajrayana tradition. There are particular roles and uses for 
particular colors. White, for example, is a symbol of purity--a significance which is 
common, universal, and apparent. But white is also a symbol of opaqueness, ignorance, 
and, alternatively, a symbol of the  knowledge of the Dharmadhatu. This last explains 
why, in the mandala of the five celestial Buddhas, Vairochana is portrayed as white in 
color, and why, in the Vajrayana pantheon, Vajrasattva is portrayed as white to indicate 
his importance for the purification of sins.
Blue or black is a symbol of immutability. Black, unlike any other color, cannot be 
changed. Blue is a color that symbolizes hatred, on the one hand, and the knowledge that 
reflects all phenomena without distorting them, on the other (like the blue of water that 
reflects innumerable objects impartially). Therefore, blue is the color of what is called the 
mirror-like knowledge.
Red, which is the color of fire, is a symbol of desire and also stands for the knowledge of 
discrimination.
These colors are used to carry symbolic messages in connection not only with the five 
celestial Buddhas, but also with other tantric deities. These messages often operate at an 
unconscious or subconscious level, but their particular significance nonetheless triggers 
certain emotions or reactions (again, often on a subconscious level). One example of this 
is the fact that smokers who bought the cigarettes with the red logo instead of the green 
one did not know why they were moved to do so.
Let us now look at some of the more particular objects we find in Vajrayana art and 
iconography, and at their specific meanings--objects like the support, or base, of 
Vajrayana deities, the objects the deities hold in their hands, and the ornaments that adorn 
their bodies. The Vajrayana deity Vajrakilaya, for example, tramples on two deities of the 
Hindu pantheon, Shiva and Parvati. Initially, one might think that this is merely a kind of 
triumphalism on the part of the Buddhists, but the significance is actually far more 
important. Shiva and Parvati stand for the extremes of eternalism and nihilism. The base 
on which Vajrakilaya stands is therefore a symbol of the transcendence, or avoidance, of 
these two extremes. Again, we find the Vajrayana deity Mahakala standing on a corpse. 
The corpse represents self, ego, and substance; Mahakala's trampling it thus represents 
his triumph over the idea of self, or substance.
Many of the Vajrayana deities hold knives in their hands. This is anticipated in Mahayana 
iconography, where we find Manjushri holding a sword of wisdom with which he cuts 
through the net of ignorance. In the hands of the Vajrayana deities, too, knives are 
instruments symbolizing the wisdom with which they cut through ignorance and 
delusion.
In Vajrayana iconography we also find deities drinking from skull cups filled with blood, 
which represents the afflictions. By drinking this blood, the deities symbolically show 
their ability to assimilate and neutralize the afflictions.
We find Vajrayana deities commonly holding a vajra and bell. The vajra is a symbol of 
skillful means, and the bell is a symbol of wisdom. Their holding the vajra and bell stands 
for the unity of skillful means and wisdom, appearance and emptiness, samsara and 
nirvana.
Many Vajrayana deities, too, have crowns of five skulls on their heads. These five skulls 
stand for the five transcendental knowledges, or wisdoms, that belong to the five celestial 
Buddhas: (a) the knowledge of the Dharmadhatu, (b) the mirror-like knowledge, (c) the 
knowledge of equality, (d) the knowledge of discrimination, and (e) the knowledge of 
accomplishment. Many of their bodies are adorned with six ornaments of bone--
bracelets, anklets, girdles, and so forth. These six ornaments stand for the Six Perfections 
of generosity, morality, patience, energy, concentration, and wisdom.
The fact that we find such objects prevalent in Vajrayana iconography does not merely 
indicate some kind of fascination with the bizarre and macabre. Rather, these objects are 
very closely connected with several levels of meaning: (i) a very deep unconscious (or 
subconscious) level of meaning, (ii) a level of meaning that has to do with cultural 
archetypes, and (iii) a level of meaning that is very specifically and precisely related to 
particular elements of the Buddhist path.
On the broadest level, we have been dealing here with great, sweeping dualities: 
mythological themes, the theme of good and evil, the archetypes of male and female, and 
so forth. More specifically, we have been dealing with archetypes that have particular 
power and meaning for living beings--the archetypes of the tree, throne, fire, and so on; 
the extremes of eternalism and nihilism; the values of skillful means and wisdom. On an 
even more specific level, we have been looking at symbolic objects that relate to 
particular items of Buddhist doctrine, like the five transcendental knowledges and Six 
Perfections.
What I have tried to do in this chapter is give some indication of the way Vajrayana 
myths and symbols work, and of the meaning of the various portrayals and images we 
find in Vajrayana iconography. It is a mistake to regard the imagery and symbolism of 
the Vajrayana as in any way arbitrary, accidental, or simply sensational. On the contrary, 
the Vajrayana tradition makes a conscious and carefully calculated use of myth and 
symbol for the particular purpose of accelerating the practitioner's progress toward 
Buddhahood.


Chapter Twenty-Six
Psychology, Physiology, and Cosmology


      In the Vajrayana tradition, psychology, physiology, and cosmology are closely 
interrelated. In this chapter I would like to show how this is the case, and also sketch in 
general terms the benefits  of this interrelationship.
Let us begin by referring once again to the idea of interdependence and interpenetration. 
Interdependence is synonymous with relativity, or emptiness, and it is one of the two 
pillars of the Vajrayana tradition. In this particular context, interdependence has a specific 
meaning--namely, interpenetration. Insofar as everything depends on everything else for 
its existence and nature, so everything holds within itself the seeds, the causes and 
conditions, of everything else. Specifically, we can understand this by focusing on the 
idea of the interdependence of the parts and the whole. The nature of the whole depends 
on the nature of the parts, and the nature of the parts depends on the nature of the whole. 
This is the interdependence of parts and whole.
Traditionally, we see this idea elaborated in the Mahayana in parables such as that of the 
net of Indra. In this parable, each part of the net depends for its existence and nature on 
the other parts, and each small part of the net in a sense contains in miniature the 
characteristics of the net as a whole. This idea of interdependence or interpenetration of 
parts and whole became very important in China, too, where it is probably the single most 
important idea in Hua-yen philosophy, or the philosophy of totality.
The idea of interpenetration is found in the Vajrayana tradition as well, where we can see 
it expressed even in the term tantra itself. You may remember that tantra refers primarily 
and literally to the idea of the weave in a piece of cloth or fabric (see Chapter 22). Using 
the analogy of cloth or fabric, we can understand the interpenetration of parts and whole 
when we see that a small section of fabric reveals the pattern that extends throughout the 
whole.
The idea of the interpenetration of parts and whole is also expressed in the Vajrayana in 
the notion of the interpenetration of individual beings (who here represent the parts, or 
microcosms) and the universe (which represents the whole, or macrocosm). This notion 
of man and the universe as microcosm and macrocosm is the first idea I want to consider 
by way of introduction to a more specific treatment of psychology, physiology, and 
cosmology in the Vajrayana.
To understand the dynamic role of psychology, physiology, and cosmology in the 
Vajrayana tradition, we need also to recall the second fundamental idea of the Vajrayana 
tradition--the idea of the variability of experience. This is expressed in the experience of 
Asanga, who saw the Buddha Maitreya first not at all, then in the form of a diseased dog, 
and finally in his celestial and transformed aspect. This idea is also expressed in the fact 
that the beings who inhabit the six realms of existence view phenomena differently: this 
is the variability of experience relative to the conditioned state of one's mind. Thus 
reality is dependent on the conditions of one's mind: an impure mind will perceive and 
experience reality in one way, whereas a transformed and purified mind will experience it 
in another.   
It is important to keep both interpenetration and the variability of experience in mind if 
we are going to understand the relationship between the individual and the universe in 
Vajrayana psychology, physiology, and cosmology, and if we are going to understand 
how this relationship functions dynamically to bring about the transformation that is the 
goal of Vajrayana practice.
Let us first look specifically at psychology within the Vajrayana tradition. Thus far I have 
been at pains to show that the Vajrayana is a natural and logical development of the 
Buddhist tradition as a whole, as we find it embodied in the Theravada and Mahayana. 
Given this fact, it is not surprising that Vajrayana psychology takes as its basic building 
blocks elements which belong to a system that is central to Buddhist psychology in 
general.
These building blocks are the five aggregates.  As in the Theravada and Mahayana, the 
five aggregates of form, feeling, perception, volition, and consciousness function as the 
basic components of Vajrayana psychology. In the impure condition of mind--the 
condition common to all of us before we have transformed our experience--these five 
aggregates are associated respectively with the five afflictions, or defilements, of 
ignorance, pride, attachment, envy, and aversion. You will notice the presence of the 
three basic afflictions that are causes of the experience of suffering and, in addition to 
them, the afflictions of pride and envy.
We can also see the five afflictions in relation to the five realms of existence that are not 
conducive to liberation. In this context, ignorance corresponds to the realm of animals, 
pride to the realm of the gods, attachment to the realm of the hungry ghosts, envy to the 
realm of the demigods, and aversion to the realm of the hell beings. It is interesting to 
note that the five afflictions also constitute the causes of birth in the five unfavorable 
realms of existence.
This is the picture of reality seen from the point of view of the untransformed mode of 
being, the impure vision which is typical of our experience, and which was typical of 
Asanga's experience when he was unable to see Maitreya. Even in the Perfection of 
Wisdom literature, we find statements to the effect that, as a Bodhisattva progresses 
toward Buddhahood, his aggregates become perfectly pure. In the Vajrayana, this general 
statement is given positive and specific content so that, in Vajrayana psychology, the five 
aggregates are transformed and appear in the form of the five celestial Buddhas   when 
the mind has been purified by the cultivation of wholesome conditions. Thus, in their 
transformed mode of being, the five aggregates appear as the five celestial Buddhas: the 
aggregate of form, when purified, appears in the form of the Buddha Vairochana; feeling, 
in the form of Ratnasambhava; perception, in the form of Amitabha; volition, in the form 
of Amoghasiddhi; and consciousness, in the form of Akshobhya.
Some of you may have seen these five celestial Buddhas iconographically portrayed in 
the mandala, a sacred or magical circle which is a representation of the purified or 
transformed universe. What the five celestial Buddhas represent is the five components of 
psycho-physical being in their transformed and purified mode of being. The five celestial 
Buddhas together represent the transformation of our impure experience into a purified, 
or liberated, mode of being.
Incidentally, these five celestial Buddhas are also said to be the Buddhas of the Five 
Families: the Buddha, Ratna (or jewel), Padma (or lotus), Karma, and Vajra families, 
respectively. These are the symbols that stand for the five aggregates in their transformed 
mode of being.
Just as, on the untransformed and impure level, the five aggregates are associated with the 
five afflictions, so on the transformed and purified level, the five celestial Buddhas 
correspond to the five transcendental knowledges, or wisdoms. The first of these 
transcendental knowledges is the knowledge of the Dharmadhatu, which corresponds to 
the Buddha Vairochana. The knowledge of the Dharmadhatu is the knowledge of things 
as they are in reality, the knowledge of the quintessential nature or character of things. In 
other words, the Dharmadhatu is that essential nature of all phenomena which is their 
emptiness, their nonduality. Thus the transformed aggregate of form is the Buddha 
Vairochana, and this transformation similarly implies a transformation from the affliction 
of ignorance to the transcendental knowledge of the true nature of all things, or 
emptiness.
Second, with the Buddha Ratnasambhava, who is the transformed appearance of the 
aggregate of feeling, we have a transformation of the affliction of pride into the 
transcendental knowledge of equality. This is the knowledge which makes all things 
equal. Here, again, we have a specific echo of something which occurs in the Perfection 
of Wisdom literature. In the Heart Sutra, it is said that the perfection of wisdom makes 
the unequal equal. In the case of Ratnasambhava, we have the knowledge which makes 
things equal. More than anything else, the knowledge of equality sees no distinction 
between samsara and nirvana. The transcendental knowledge of equality which sees no 
distinction between samsara and nirvana enables the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas to operate 
freely in the world.
 Third, in the case of the aggregate of perception, which in its transformed and purified 
dimension becomes the Buddha Amitabha, we have a corresponding transformation of 
the affliction of attachment into the transcendental knowledge of discrimination. This is 
the  knowledge which is able to see all things according to their individual characteristics. 
In a sense, this corresponds to the knowledge of the Dharmadhatu, which is the 
knowledge of the quintessential and universal character of all things--that is, emptiness. 
As a complement to the knowledge of the Dharmadhatu, we have the knowledge of 
discrimination, which is the knowledge of the particular characteristics of all things.
Fourth, in the case of the aggregate of volition, which on the purified level takes the form 
of the Buddha Amoghasiddhi, we have a transformation of the affliction of envy into the 
transcendental knowledge of accomplishment. This knowledge is the ability to know with 
precision the exact situation of all sentient beings so that they can best be helped to 
progress toward Buddhahood.
Finally, in the case of the aggregate of consciousness, which on the purified level takes 
the form of the Buddha Akshobhya, we have a transformation of the affliction of ill-will 
into the transcendental knowledge known as the mirror-like knowledge--the ability to 
reflect all things in the manner of the mirror. The mirror reflects precisely whatever is 
presented to it but remains itself unchanged, unaffected by the images that it reflects.
You can see that there is here a symmetrical arrangement of basic psycho-physical 
constituents, with the five aggregates on the impure level corresponding to the five 
celestial Buddhas on the purified level. Similarly, there is a symmetrical arrangement of 
the five afflictions on the untransformed, or impure, level corresponding to the five 
knowledges on the transformed and purified level.
This symmetrical arrangement between an impure and a pure experience is carried over 
into the building blocks of matter as well. On the purified level, the five elements of the 
world--earth, water, fire, air, and space--take the forms of the five celestial female 
deities who are consorts of the five celestial Buddhas. The element of space, which 
corresponds to the aggregate of form, is transformed on the purified level into a female 
deity who is the  consort of the Buddha Vairochana. The elements of earth, fire, air, and 
water, which correspond to the aggregates of feeling, perception, volition, and 
consciousness, respectively, are transformed at the purified level into the female deities 
who are the consorts of Ratnasambhava, Amitabha, Amoghasiddhi, and Akshobhya, 
respectively.
In Vajrayana psychology, therefore, we have aggregates, afflictions, and elements on the 
ordinary, impure level which are transformed on the purified level into the five celestial 
Buddhas, the five transcendental knowledges, and the five female deities who are 
consorts of the five celestial Buddhas. We have two levels of experience that are 
symmetrical, one level of experience being typical of an impure form of existence, the 
other of a purified form of existence. This is the basic scheme of Vajrayana psychology.
In the system of Vajrayana physiology, these five celestial Buddhas, along with their five 
consorts, are found within the body of each individual person. They are situated at five 
centers of psychic energy, called chakras, which are found within the body of every 
person. The five centers of psychic energy are situated at the top of the head, the throat, 
the heart, the navel, and the genitals. At each place, there is one of the five celestial 
Buddhas with his consort seated on a lotus throne: the Buddha Vairochana, who is the 
purified dimension of the aggregate of form, is at the top of the head; Amitabha, who is 
the purified dimension of perception, is at the throat; Akshobhya, who is the purified 
dimension of consciousness, is at the heart; Ratnasambhava, who is the purified 
dimension of feeling, is at the navel; and Amoghasiddhi, who is the purified dimension of 
volition, is situated at the genitals.
There are a number of channels of psychic energy, called nadis, connecting these centers 
of psychic energy. Although there are a great number of these channels, there are three 
which are very important: the central psychic channel (avadhuti), which runs directly 
from the top of the head to the genitals and which connects the five cakras; and the two 
psychic channels on the right and left of the central channel (the rasana and lalana, 
respectively). On the level of advanced Vajrayana practice, the practitioner is able to 
manipulate and direct the flow of psychic energy--which is none other than the energy of 
mind alone--through these psychic channels. This enables him or her to unite the 
opposites which are reflected in the psycho-physical experience of the individual person 
and in the universe as a whole, in order to realize within him- or herself in meditation the 
absolute union of all opposites, the annihilation of all dualities, which is the goal of 
tantric practice.
Through this very brief portrayal of Vajrayana  physiology, you can see how the basic 
building blocks of psycho-physical experience, be they viewed from the impure level or 
from the purified level, are reflected in the physiological makeup of the  person.
Through achieving the union of opposites within his psycho-physical experience as an 
individual person, the Vajrayana adept is able to bring about the transformation of his 
vision of the universe as a whole. He is able to do this because his body is a microcosm 
of the  universe. In Vajrayana cosmology, the features of the universe as a whole are 
present within the psycho-physical experience of each person. Mount Sumeru, the central 
mountain of the universe according to Buddhist cosmology, is situated within the body of 
the practitioner, just as the sun and moon, the sacred rivers of India, and pilgrimage 
places are found within the body in a microcosmic way.
Not only are these features of the universe situated within the body but so, too, are the 
primary features of the transformed or purified experience. We have already seen that the 
five celestial Buddhas are found within the body at the five centers of psychic energy. In 
the same way, we find that the experience of the individual person is in fact none other 
than the experience of the celestial or purified universe, so that the body is in fact the 
celestial mansion of the divine Buddhas. In Vajrayana psychology, physiology, and 
cosmology, therefore, we find the real meaning of the expression that 'The body is a 
temple.' It is a temple that contains the celestial Buddhas, who are none other than the 
transformed mode of being of the ordinary mode of being of the psycho-physical 
components, or aggregates.
You can see how, in the Vajrayana tradition, a close correspondence is drawn between 
the ordinary level of experience and the purified level of experience. This correspondence 
is established through the idea of microcosm and macrocosm. Specifically, the Vajrayana 
supplies a special psychological and physiological scheme of the elements of experience 
precisely so that they can be subjected to the direct and efficient manipulation of the 
mind. This scheme employs the centers of psychic energy and the channels through 
which psychic energy flows.
What I have tried to do in this chapter is show that, in the Vajrayana system of 
psychology, physiology, and cosmology, as in Vajrayana myth and symbol, we do not 
have an arcane and exotic portrayal of haphazard or arbitrary forms. Rather, we have a 
very carefully designed system which accords with the fundamental principles of the 
Buddhist path to liberation.  What we have is really just a particularly rich and colorful 
development of the suggestions we have seen in the earlier Buddhist traditions, in the 
psychology of the Abhidharma and in the Perfection of Wisdom literature. In the 
Vajrayana tradition, all these suggestions receive a very definite content. The Vajrayana 
supplies colorful, bright, and attractive representations of the various components of 
psycho-physical experience, and a description of how their transformation can be 
achieved through the gradual purification of one's mode of being.



Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Preliminary Practices


      In Chapters 22 through 26, I tried to outline what we might call the universe of 
experience of the Vajrayana. That is why I began with a consideration of the cultural and 
intellectual climate in which the Vajrayana first appeared, and only then went on to 
consider its religious and philosophical background, methodology, myth and symbol, and 
psychology, physiology, and cosmology. In Chapters 27 through 29, I will look at the 
actual stages in the practice of the Vajrayana path. In general, there are three such stages: 
(1) the preliminary or preparatory stage, (2) the stage of entry, and (3) the actual practice. 
I have divided the preliminary stage into two categories: general and specific.
As mentioned in Chapter 22, the Mahayana and Vajrayana are in fact two components of 
a single tradition. Their starting point and goal are identical; they differ only in the 
methods employed in getting from that starting point to the goal. From this we can 
understand that, in terms of general preliminaries, there is a great deal of similarity 
between what is required for Mahayana practice and what is required for Vajrayana 
practice.
We need to touch on the preliminaries briefly to emphasize again that the Vajrayana 
practices are not ones that can be undertaken without the proper kind of preparation. In 
fact, the general preliminaries required for Vajrayana practice are  those required for the 
whole of the Mahayana path. In this category of general preliminary practices, we have 
(1) the taking of refuge, followed by (2) contemplation of suffering, (3) the law of karma, 
(4) death and impermanence, and (5) the opportune and fortunate nature of the human 
situation; (6) cultivation of love and compassion; and (7) production of the enlightenment 
thought. We conclude with (8) cultivation of one-pointedness, or concentration, and 
penetrative insight.    All these serve as a general prerequisite to Vajrayana practice.
With a few exceptions, the general preliminary practices of the Vajrayana are similar to 
those of the Mahayana. One of the exceptions is the way the taking of refuge is practiced. 
Whereas in the Mahayana tradition there are the three objects of refuge--the Enlightened 
One, his teaching, and the Noble Assembly of the irreversible Bodhisattvas or 
Bodhisattvas who have attained the seventh stage of the Bodhisattva path and are 
therefore not liable to relapse, in the Vajrayana there is also the fourth refuge--the 
preceptor (the guru or lama). In certain traditions within the Vajrayana fold, there may be 
as many as six objects of refuge, the two additional ones being the tutelary deities and the 
dakinis. The tutelary deities are the special esoteric forms of the Buddha who are any one 
of the major tantric deities--Hevajra, Chakrasamvara, and the like--meditation upon 
whom is a complete path to enlightenment. The dakinis are female deities who are 
symbolic or representative of insubstantiality. In the Vajrayana pantheon, the dakinis 
occupy a position in some ways analogous to that of the Noble Assembly, being the 
special tantric or Vajrayana forms of the Sangha. Although in certain traditions and 
contexts we do have references to these six objects of refuge, it is far more common to 
find the four objects of refuge, that is, the preceptor and the Triple Gem.  
The preceptor is particularly important in the Vajrayana tradition. Let me refer to two 
ideas that illustrate the role and importance of the preceptor in the Vajrayana tradition. 
First, the preceptor performs a function similar to that of a magnifying glass. We know 
that the sun is very hot and has great power, yet without a device like the magnifying 
glass we cannot harness its heat to kindle a fire.  Similarly, although the Buddha and his 
teachings are very powerful, without the preceptor they are unable to kindle the fire of 
wisdom within a disciple. The preceptor functions as a means of concentrating and 
harnessing the power of the Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha in such a way as to make that 
power effective and immediately applicable to the disciple's own needs.
Recognizing this role of the preceptor has always been of the greatest importance. We 
will understand this better if we consider the story of Marpa, one of the more famous 
Tibetans who journeyed to India in order to receive the Vajrayana teaching from Naropa. 
Marpa made three journeys to India and studied at length with Naropa. It is said that on 
one occasion, when the manifestation of a tutelary deity appeared before him, Marpa 
made the mistake of bowing to the appearance of the deity rather than to his preceptor, 
Naropa. The karmic consequences of this lapse were that Marpa later lost his sons to 
accidents and had no descendants to whom he could pass on the teachings he had 
received. This is one of a number of stories which indicate the need to recognize the 
importance of the preceptor in the Vajrayana tradition.
In Chapter 29, I will show how the last two components in these general preliminaries--
the cultivation of single-pointedness and penetrative insight--are applied to one's 
practice in the context of Vajrayana meditation. For the time being, let me repeat that 
these general preliminaries are indispensable prerequisites to serious Vajrayana practice. 
No tradition within Tibetan Buddhism encourages the commencement of Vajrayana 
practice without having spent a really substantial amount of time on these preliminary 
practices. All the Tibetan Vajrayana traditions have extensive oral and written material on 
the cultivation and practice of these preliminaries. Although it does sometimes happen 
that people go on to Vajrayana practice without having spent an appropriate amount of 
time on these general preliminaries, they do so at their own risk. However, I do not mean 
to indulge in scare mongering. What I mean is that if you do somehow manage to go on 
to your university education without having undergone pre-university training, you are 
liable to have a much more difficult time in your university career.
I would like to make one more observation before treating the particular preliminary 
practices that are special to the Vajrayana. I have gone to great lengths to show the 
integrated nature of the three major Buddhist traditions of Theravada, Mahayana, and 
Vajrayana, and have tried to show that the Vajrayana represents a natural extension of 
elements found in other Buddhist traditions. I would therefore like to draw your attention 
to two steps in these general preliminary practices: the taking of refuge, and the 
awakening of the enlightenment thought, or acceptance of the Bodhisattva vows. I would 
like to suggest that these can be regarded as initiations of a kind. Another practice which 
may be seen as analogous to initiation is the novitiate, or entrance into the Buddhist 
Order.
All three of these practices may be thought of as varieties of initiations. All involve 
entrance into a community with a particular set of practices: in the case of taking refuge, 
the ceremony represents entry into the Buddhist community; in the case of the novitiate, 
it represents entry into the monastic community; and in the case of the Bodhisattva vows, 
entry into the lineage or family of the Buddha. These three ceremonies are, in a sense, 
initiations that involve taking on certain commitments: taking refuge brings along with it 
the commitment to try to observe the precepts of a layperson; entering the monastic order 
brings with it the commitment to observe the precepts of a novice; and taking the 
Bodhisattva vows brings with it the commitments of the Bodhisattva. There are aspects of 
the institutions of refuge, novitiate, and Bodhisattva vows that are similar to important 
elements in the Vajrayana initiation.
Let us go on to look at the specific preliminary practices generally required for Vajrayana 
practice. It is not imperative that one complete the preliminaries before beginning any 
kind of Vajrayana practice. It is also not imperative that one complete these preliminaries 
before receiving Vajrayana initiation. It is, however, imperative that one complete them 
before undertaking meditational retreat on one of the major Vajrayana tutelary deities. 
For really serious Vajrayana practice, these specific preliminaries are required.
The term for these preliminaries in Tibetan is ngon-dro, which literally means 'going 
before.' Hence these practices go before serious practice. There are four specific 
preliminary practices common to all the Vajrayana traditions: (1) refuge, (2) confession, 
(3) preceptor yoga, and (4) mandala offering. Each has to be performed one hundred 
thousand times. In addition to these four, certain traditions require the performance of 
prostrations, and others require alternative rituals.
Refuge. As already mentioned, in the Vajrayana tradition one takes refuge in four 
'objects'--the Buddha, Dharma, Sangha, and preceptor, or guru. Taking refuge involves 
visualization of the objects of refuge either separately or together: (a) one can visualize 
one's preceptor, the Buddha, the texts, and the Noble Assembly separately, or (b) one can 
visualize the four objects of refuge integrated or combined into the single figure of the 
tutelary deity. Some of you may have seen this visualization portrayed in painted scrolls, 
with the objects of refuge pictured in a tree, on a jeweled throne, on a lotus and a sun or 
moon disk (for more on some of these symbols, see Chapter 25). Using this visualization 
of the four objects of refuge, we recite a refuge formula one hundred thousand times.
Confession. For convenience, I have called the second specific preliminary practice 
'confession' because it is commonly referred to by this name. However, it is important to 
remember here that we are not concerned with confession as a means of securing 
forgiveness. We do not use the term in the same sense in which it is used in Christianity, 
where the confession of sins is followed by forgiveness from an external power. In this 
context, confession merely implies our own recognition of unwholesome actions done in 
the past, and our resolve not to repeat them. Especially important in this practice of 
confession of unwholesome actions is the Buddha Vajrasattva, another special form of 
the Buddha similar to the Buddhas of the Five Families. Vajrasattva is an archetypal form 
of the Buddha who embodies the state of enlightenment for the special purpose of the 
confession and purification of unwholesome actions.
Vajrasattva appears in the Mahayana pantheon as well, and the practice of confession of 
unwholesome actions is one of the preliminaries performed by all who embark on the 
Bodhisattva path. Vajrasattva is white in color. He has a single face and two hands, and 
holds a vajra and a bell, which stand for skillful means and wisdom, respectively. In the 
specific preliminary practice of confession, we meditate on Vajrasattva and recite the 
hundred-syllable mantra of Vajrasattva one hundred thousand times.
It is said that four powers issue from the practice of the confession and purification of 
unwholesome actions. The first power is the 'power of the shrine,' which refers to the 
power of Vajrasattva as a symbol of purification. There is a certain power which issues 
from visualization of the form of Vajrasattva. This is a symbolic power, similar to the 
kind of power that issues, in the mundane context, from a symbol such as the national 
flag. The national flag has a symbolic power; similarly, in the sacred context of 
meditation, the image of Vajrasattva has a certain power, the power of symbol.
The second of the four powers is the 'power of transcendence,' of going beyond. This 
refers to a sincere renunciation of unwholesome actions. In other words, in the course of 
the meditation, unwholesome actions are transcended.
The third power that issues from this practice is the 'power of habitual antidote,' or the 
power of persistent correction, which refers to the sincere resolve not to repeat the 
unwholesome actions one has done in the past. This is the power to refrain from doing 
unwholesome actions again in the future.
The fourth power is the 'power of restoration.' This refers to the fact that, insofar as 
unwholesome actions belong to the level of conditioned reality, they do not really 
penetrate to the core of one's own being, which is the Buddha mind, or the nature of 
emptiness. Unwholesome actions are, in reality, adventitious. They are like the dirt that 
soils a white cloth, or the smoke or cloud that obscures the sky. Because of this, 
meditation on Vajrasattva results in the power of restoration, which is the realization of 
our intrinsic purity.
Preceptor Yoga. The third preliminary is called preceptor yoga. The preceptor (guru or 
lama) is an accomplished master who bestows tantric initiations and special spiritual 
attainments. Although it is quite common for those not conversant with the Tibetan 
tradition to refer to any Tibetan monk as a lama, in the Tibetan tradition this term is 
reserved for such qualified masters, while ordinary monks are referred to simply as 
gelong (bhikshu). The term yoga means 'yoking together,' connecting or identifying.
The purpose of preceptor yoga is to establish a close bond between disciple and master. 
Here again, we can see the importance of the preceptor in the Vajrayana tradition. This 
practice can take different forms, which differ slightly. However, in general it involves 
the recitation, one hundred thousand times, of a formula that expresses a disciple's 
devotion to and regard for the qualities of the preceptor.
I would like to expand on what I said earlier about the importance of the preceptor in the 
Vajrayana tradition--why this is and must be so. The Vajrayana tradition is first and 
foremost an oral tradition, handed down from master to disciple. The association or 
connection between master and disciple is particularly important. This association leads 
to the formation of lineage. Lineage is, of course, important not only in the Vajrayana but 
also in the Buddhist tradition as a whole, especially when it comes to monastic 
ordination. If you look at the history of monasticism in Sri Lanka and Thailand, you will 
notice the importance accorded to it. Because of discontinuation of the lineage of 
monastic ordination, special envoys had to be sent from one Theravada country to 
another on a number of occasions, simply to renew the lineage.
Lineage is like an electric circuit. When the lineage is broken, the ordination of new 
disciples cannot take place. This also occurred in the monastic history of Tibet when, 
after the persecution of Buddhism under King Lan-dar-ma, the lineage of monastic 
ordination had to be reestablished with the help of Chinese monks. Thus lineage is 
extremely important. It is important in the Vajrayana tradition because it is by means of 
lineage--the unbroken chain connecting master and disciple--that the Vajrayana 
teachings are handed down from one generation to the next.
The concept of lineage implies the identity of each link in the chain, each member of the 
lineage. Consequently, the figure of the preceptor secures identification between the 
master, disciple, and tutelary deity. Later, the disciple him or herself forges this bond as 
he or she develops his or her own sense of identification with the preceptor and then with 
the tutelary deity.   
The institution of the lineage, as it is embodied in the figure of the preceptor, cuts across 
time and space. It bridges the gulf that separates us, here and now, from the time and 
place and mode of being of the Buddha. This is why, in Vajrayana initiation and 
meditation practice, the preceptor is identified with the tutelary deity, and it is then the 
task of the practitioner to identify with the deity through the preceptor. This practice of 
union with the guru is important for creating the foundation of the special relationship 
between practitioner and preceptor.
Mandala Offering. The fourth preliminary practice is the offering of the mandala. In 
general, a mandala is a sacred, symbolic (or magic) circle. In the context of the offering 
ritual, the mandala represents in symbolic form the whole mundane universe, as it is 
pictured in traditional Buddhist cosmology. Traditionally, the universe is said to have 
Mount Sumeru at its center, the four continents on each side of Mount Sumeru, four 
intermediate continents, and so forth. The mandala is a symbolic representation of this 
traditional cosmology.
In the practice of mandala offering, the practitioner offers to the four objects of refuge 
(the Buddha, Dharma, Sangha, and preceptor) all his own merit, born of wholesome 
actions, in the symbolic form of the universe. He offers all his wholesome actions to these 
four objects, which are the repositories of all excellent qualities, for the sake of the 
enlightenment of all sentient beings. This offering is done a hundred thousand times. 
Along with the recitation, the practitioner performs a ritual using a disk of metal, stone, 
or wood and grains of rice, wheat, or sand, by means of which he creates symbolically the 
salient features of the traditional cosmology of the universe.
This practice of mandala offering is effective because it is the most excellent form of 
karma. There are five modifying conditions that intensify the weight of karma--three 
subjective and two objective. The three subjective conditions are (a) persistence or 
repetition of an action, (b) willful intention, and (c) absence of regret. The objective 
conditions are (d) quality and (e) indebtedness toward whom the action is directed (see 
also Chapter 8). 
In the mandala offering, we have all the conditions conducive to enhancing the weight of 
this wholesome karma. We have persistence, in that the offering is done a hundred 
thousand times. We have the intention of the practitioner to offer all his merits in this 
symbolic form to the enlightened ones. We also have a complete absence of regret. If we 
were to offer material objects, we might be liable to experience some feeling of regret. 
For example, if I offer a financial endowment to a monastery, I may later think that I have 
offered too much. But with a symbolic offering of this sort, there is no ground for that 
kind of feeling to arise, so the wholesome karma it generates is unopposed. Last, who is 
more worthy of offering than the enlightened ones, who are of the highest worth and 
greatest benefit to us, since it is they who make enlightenment accessible? The practice of 
mandala offering thus creates the merit required to make rapid progress along the 
Vajrayana path.
In short, the four specific preliminary practices have a special contribution to make in the 
preparation for serious Vajrayana practice. The recitation of the refuge formula 
establishes one firmly on the path, creating a secure shelter that protects one from 
discouragement and distractions. The practice of confession purifies unwholesome 
actions. The practice of preceptor yoga identifies practitioner and preceptor, establishing 
the relationship so crucial to one's progress on the Vajrayana path. Finally, the practice of 
mandala offering creates the positive potential, the wholesome energy, that one needs in 
making rapid and efficient strides.  


Chapter Twenty-Eight
The Vajrayana Initiation


      With this chapter, we come to a rather important topic in any introduction to the 
Vajrayana path. Over the half century or so that Vajrayana has been known in the West 
and the world at large, it has been liable to a great deal of misinterpretation and 
misunderstanding. The element that has probably been the cause of the greatest 
misunderstanding is the institution of initiation. Many have objected to initiation being a 
component of a path in the Buddhist tradition.
As mentioned in Chapter 27, there is nothing formally different in the Vajrayana 
initiation that sets it apart from other rites of passage which play an important role in the 
Buddhist tradition. It is hard to understand why people can accept the refuge ceremony 
and the rite of monastic ordination but have difficulty with the idea of a Vajrayana 
initiation. I hope that, by indicating the contents of Vajrayana initiation and its role and 
function within the tradition, some of the misinterpretation and misunderstanding will be 
dispelled.
Let us first look at the meaning of the Sanskrit term abhishekha, which has been 
translated as 'initiation,' 'consecration,' and even 'empowerment.' None of these is a 
literal translation of the original term, which in fact means 'sprinkling' or 'watering'--
specifically, sprinkling water on an area of earth, such as a field.
We can begin to learn something about the nature of Vajrayana initiation if we consider 
why the term abhisheka was chosen for this ritual. The answer is that we have here a 
ceremony the purpose of which is to enliven or quicken the disciple's progress toward 
enlightenment. Just as we might sprinkle water on a field in which seeds have been sown, 
and by that sprinkling enliven and quicken the growth of the seeds, so in the Vajrayana 
initiation we enliven and quicken the growth of the seed of the disciple's spiritual 
potential.
We have here references to ideas that are already well developed in the Mahayana 
tradition--namely, the notion of the Buddha nature, or the potential for enlightenment, 
that all living beings possess. The process of growth and fruition of this spiritual potential 
is quickened by abhisheka, or 'sprinkling'--a clear indication of the function of that 
sprinkling, or initiation. Although it is inconvenient to translate abhisheka as 'watering' 
or 'sprinkling,' it is important to remember that the term refers to a process rather 
different in its purpose and intention from what we might think if we took it at face value, 
regarding it as a sort of initiation into a secret society or the like.
Let me try to expand on this very fundamental and linguistic definition of initiation in the 
Vajrayana tradition. Vajrayana initiation means introducing the disciple into the mandala, 
the sacred or magic circle, of one of the tutelary deities of the Vajrayana pantheon--
deities who are special esoteric forms of the Buddha, meditation on whom can bring 
about enlightenment. In Chapter 27, we saw that the mandala is a symbolic representation 
of the universe. In the context of an initiation, it represents not the universe as we know 
it, from an unenlightened point of view, but the sacred or pure universe that we achieve 
on the level of enlightenment, when our vision is purified of unwholesome tendencies. 
Much of what I said in Chapter 26 about the transformation of the five aggregates into the 
five celestial Buddhas is applicable to this notion of the purified or transformed universe. 
Therefore, when we say that the Vajrayana initiation introduces a disciple into the 
mandala of one of the tantric tutelary deities, what we mean is that it introduces him or 
her to the purified universe of one of these deities.
The Vajrayana tutelary deities can be divided into four classes of ascending power or 
efficacy in bringing about the transformation from an unenlightened mode of existence to 
an enlightened and sacred mode of existence: (1) the kriya class, (2) the charya class, (3) 
the yoga class, and (4) the anuttarayoga class. Initiation is the introduction of a disciple 
into the sacred universe of the tutelary deity of one of these classes of tantra. The kriya 
class refers to a group of tutelary deities and practices primarily concerned with 
externalized rituals and practices. Kriya means 'action,' 'ritual,' 'ceremony.' The 
tutelary deities who belong to this class are associated with practices that are, by and 
large, external and ritualistic. Practices associated with the kriya class of tantra often 
involve vegetarianism, regular and even ritual bathing, and ritual offering.
In contrast, the tutelary deities of the charya class of tantra are associated with practices 
that have to do primarily with the internal attitudes, intentions, and conceptions of the 
practitioner. Whereas kriya tantra practices are external, the practices associated with the 
charya tantra class are usually internal, to the exclusion of the external practices. 
Practitioners of the charya class often present a much less sociable appearance than those 
of the kriya class of tantra.
The third class, the yoga class of tutelary deities, is associated with a combination of 
practices belonging to the kriya and charya classes. Practices associated with the yoga 
class seek to arrive at a balance between the external and internal practices. This balance, 
or union, between the internal and external practices is reflected in the term yoga, which 
means 'combination' or 'union.'
In the case of the anuttarayoga tutelary deities, we have a transcendence or dissolution of 
the barriers that define the first three classes of practice (external, internal, and the 
combination of the two). Anuttara means 'transcendence,' in this case, a transcendence 
of external and internal practice alike. Thus the anuttara class of tutelary deities and 
practices is the most highly developed within the Vajrayana tradition. It is at this level 
that we achieve, in its fullest sense, complete integration of experience into the Vajrayana 
path, integration that leads spontaneously to the transformation of being. This is the ideal 
I referred to in Chapter 24, when discussing the purpose of the methodology of the 
Vajrayana--namely, complete integration of experience into the path.
Initiation itself can be of three varieties. The first of these is the major initiation, which 
has a kind of comprehensive, all-encompassing function. To use a rather prosaic analogy, 
a major initiation might be likened to a license empowering you to drive all kinds of 
motor vehicles, or to the broad powers that a government might give a special envoy to 
take up all decisions regarding a particular set of questions. A major initiation is a kind of 
complete empowerment that usually requires two days. The first day is given over to 
preparatory practices, which in general have to do with the purification of the disciple. 
The second day is reserved for actually introducing the disciple into the mandala of the 
particular deity involved.
The second kind of initiation is the subsidiary initiation, which might be likened to a 
license that empowers you to handle a rare, specialized class of practices, which are 
nonetheless important and highly efficacious.
The third class is even more limited in scope, consisting of rather simple initiations, often 
very brief in terms of the time required to bestow them, that enable one to engage in 
relatively simple practices associated with subsidiary deities belonging to a larger family 
to whom one has already been introduced by means of the appropriate initiation. These 
are sometimes termed 'subsequent initiations,' because they are traditionally given 
subsequent to major or subsidiary ones.
Vajrayana deities are also divided into families (not related to the four classes of tutelary 
deities mentioned a moment ago) that are associated with the Buddhas of the Five 
Families--Vairochana, Ratnasambhava, Amitabha, Amoghasiddhi, and Akshobhya.  For 
example, the tutelary deity Hevajra is associated with the Vajra family headed by 
Akshobhya, while Chakrasamvara is associated with the Buddha family of Vairochana.   
A major initiation can be likened to the purchase of a season ticket for a whole series of 
events. The season ticket entitles you to participate in any or all of the events, although 
whenever you do you will naturally have to produce your ticket and perhaps have it 
stamped. Similarly, a major initiation entitles you to receive a whole series of subsidiary 
and lesser initiations, although, when receiving each initiation, you will still have to 
participate in the appropriate ritual.
Traditionally, it is the major initiation that provides the disciple with access to the whole 
range of Vajrayana deities and practices. In recent years, however, because of the 
growing demand for tantric initiations, Vajrayana masters sometimes choose to give one 
of the lesser, subsequent initiations first, since the practices associated with them are 
simpler. This has sometimes been found to be useful, in that it serves as a kind of trial 
exposure to Vajrayana practice, just as one might be given a license to drive a motor 
scooter before obtaining a license to drive all kinds of motor vehicles.
All these initiations must be given by a qualified Vajrayana preceptor. There are two 
types of qualification the preceptor may have. In the first case the preceptor, having 
achieved a very high level of mental development, receives direct empowerment from the 
deity concerned. This type of qualification is typified by the cases of the men of great 
attainment, or Mahasiddhas, in India, and also, less commonly, in Tibet.
The second type of qualification is much more common. In this case the preceptor 
receives the empowerment of the deity from a qualified master. He or she must also 
perform the required meditational practices--the retreats and so forth--stipulated by the 
tradition, so as to secure a sufficiently intimate association with the deity to function as a 
go-between with the power to introduce others to the mandala of the deity concerned. It is 
important that the Vajrayana initiation be received from a preceptor who has at least the 
second type of qualification.
In the course of the Vajrayana initiation, the disciple regards the preceptor as identical 
with the tutelary deity into whose sacred circle he is being introduced. Similarly, he 
regards the environment, the situation of the initiation, as identical with the sacred 
universe of that tutelary deity. In the course of the initiation, he is introduced to and 
identifies both with that tutelary deity (in the form of the preceptor in the initiation) and 
with the sacred universe, which is symbolized by the situation of the initiation itself.
This process of introduction and identification takes place through the use of symbols.  
These symbols are both specific and general. The specific symbols are best represented 
by a variety of ritual objects. These ritual objects are associated with, and stand for, the 
elements or actors who participate in this sacred drama, who inhabit this sacred universe. 
In our discussions of the symbols of the Vajrayana and of the five archetypal Buddhas of 
the Five Families, we spoke of a number of symbols that have particular meanings (see 
Chapters 25 and 26). We spoke of the five Buddha families being represented by symbols 
such as the vajra, the crown, the bell, and so forth. In the Vajrayana initiation, these 
objects function as specific symbols by means of which the disciple can be introduced to 
the sacred universe and then identify himself with that sacred universe, that pure 
experience of an enlightened mode of being. In the course of the initiation, the disciple is 
given a vajra and bell to hold, a crown to wear, and so forth. These symbolic actions 
function to bring about (a) the introduction of the disciple to the sacred universe, and (b) 
an identification of the disciple with that sacred universe.
In addition to these specific symbolic objects, there are also the more general and 
dynamic symbols of identification. These are the symbols of light and water, which we 
also encountered in our discussion of Vajrayana symbolism (see Chapter 25). In the 
course of the initiation, light and water are used as a way of identifying the disciple with 
the tutelary deity and with the sacred universe. Light is used as a medium for identifying 
the disciple with the preceptor, who, in the context of the initiation, is identical with the 
tutelary deity. Similarly, water is used as a symbol for identifying the disciple with the 
various levels of understanding of the sacred universe. In the initiation, both light and 
water form a kind of bridge by means of which the two initially different modes of 
being--namely, the distinction between the disciple and the preceptor in the form of the 
tutelary deity, and that between the experience of the disciple and the experience of the 
sacred universe--are identified and made one. The disciple is asked to participate in the 
process by visualizing light and water as media of identification with the purified 
universe portrayed in the Vajrayana initiation.
The initiation is a vehicle for transformation or, to put it more crudely, for rebirth, or 
regeneration. This is indicated by the fact that in a major initiation the disciple is given a 
new name, just as a new name is given when one becomes a Buddhist in the ceremony of 
the taking of refuge, or when one is ordained. The bestowal of the new name stands for 
the regeneration of the disciple in a new form, by virtue of his introduction to and 
identification with both the form of the tutelary deity and the experience of the sacred 
universe.
The initiation is important not only because it is itself an introduction to and 
identification with the sacred universe, but also because it supplies the disciple with the 
methods, or keys, with which he can later reintroduce, re-identify, and reintegrate himself 
with the sacred universe first encountered during the initiation. These methods or keys are 
(i) the vision with which he is supplied in the context of the initiation, when he sees for 
the first time, in symbolic form, the sacred and purified universe; and (ii) the mantra 
appropriate to the tutelary deity that he is given in the course of the initiation.
By means of this vision and this mantra, the disciple can recreate the sacred vision, 
reintroduce himself to the sacred experience, and re-identify himself with the sacred 
universe. This will occur subsequent to the initiation, in the practice of the meditation 
appropriate to the particular tutelary deity whose initiation the disciple has received. In 
the context of this meditation, he will use the keys received during the initiation--the 
vision and the mantra--to recreate, reintroduce, and re-identify himself with the sacred 
experience on his own. He will then no longer need the support, the external 
environment, of the initiation. Rather, he will be able to recreate, reintroduce, and re-
identify himself with the pure experience represented by the initiation by means of the 
elements he received there. This is the primary role and function of the Vajrayana 
initiation.
Like other initiations, the Vajrayana initiation brings with it certain commitments that 
must be respected and preserved by the disciple. Prosaic cases, such as licensing to drive 
motor vehicles or to practice medicine, also bring with them a commitment to respect 
certain codes or rules of action and intention. Similarly, in the Buddhist tradition as a 
whole, rites such as taking refuge and ordination into the monastic order bring with them 
certain commitments the disciple is expected to fulfill.
In very general terms, there are three sets of commitments in the Buddhist tradition--
those appropriate for individual liberation (the pratimoksha vows), those appropriate for 
the resolve to liberate all living beings (the Bodhisattva vows), and those appropriate to 
Vajrayana practice (the Vajrayana vows). In brief, the essential quality of the 
commitments appropriate for individual liberation is the avoidance of injury to others; the 
essential quality of the commitments of the Bodhisattva is to benefit others; and the 
essential quality of the Vajrayana commitments is to regard all living beings as part of the 
pure vision, as deities of the sacred universe which the disciple has appropriated through 
the Vajrayana initiation.  



Chapter Twenty-Nine
Vajrayana Buddhism in Practice


      In the last of these eight chapters on the Vajrayana path, I would like to consider the 
special meditational practice known as the Vajrayana Sadhana. The term sadhana means 
'to achieve,' 'to attain,' or 'to establish.' The Vajrayana Sadhana is the means by which 
one can achieve, attain, or establish the experience of the sacred universe, the experience 
of enlightenment. One who engages in the practice of sadhana is called a sadhaka. The 
attainment itself is called the siddhi, and one who has attained it is called a siddha.  I 
mention this because in Chapter 22 I talked about the men of great attainment, or 
Mahasiddhas, who attained the experience of enlightenment through the practice of 
Vajrayana meditation, or sadhana.
In Chapter 28 we said that, in the Vajrayana initiation, the practitioner is given the keys 
with which to enter and experience the sacred universe. In general, the keys that are given 
are the vision of the tutelary deity and the special verbal formula, or mantra, associated 
with the tutelary deity. These constitute important elements in Vajrayana meditation, the 
purpose of which is the recreation and establishment of the sacred universe. But if we are 
to understand how the practice of Vajrayana meditation enables the practitioner to obtain 
this enlightenment experience, we need to consider the general form and contents of 
Vajrayana meditation.
In explaining the practice of Vajrayana meditation, I will use a structure that is not 
absolutely universal. You will encounter a number of practices that do not conform in 
every particular to the pattern that I will use here: they may differ in the order of their 
elements, or be presented in a slightly different way. In broad terms, however, the 
elements of this structure are present in virtually all forms of Vajrayana meditation. 
Moreover, the interpretation that I will elaborate on is based on authoritative expositions 
in the commentarial literature of the Vajrayana tradition.
One other general point I would like to stress is that Vajrayana meditation is both method 
(or path) and goal (or result). What I mean by method is that, by practicing Vajrayana 
meditation, one can attain the experience of enlightenment. In this sense Vajrayana 
meditation is method. But as one progresses in one's practice of the meditation, as one 
perfects the method, the method becomes the goal. Thus at one level Vajrayana 
meditation is method, but as the practitioner perfects the method, the meditation becomes 
the goal. It remains the method only in relation to other, less developed individuals.
Let me try to explain this by introducing the general interpretation of Vajrayana 
meditation that I propose to adopt--namely, that Vajrayana meditation is a paradigm, a 
reenactment, an imitation, or a replica of the careers of the Bodhisattvas and Buddhas. 
The careers of the Bodhisattvas and Buddhas are both method and goal. As the 
Bodhisattva progresses along the Bodhisattva path, for him that path is method. Once he 
achieves Buddhahood, the Bodhisattva path and the career of the Buddha become the 
goal for him, even though, in relation to other living beings, they are still method. For 
example, as we saw in Chapter 15, in the context of the Mahayana, the career of the 
Buddha--his birth, his renunciation of household life, his practice of austerities, and his 
achievement of Buddhahood--was simply a drama played out for the enlightenment of 
sentient beings.
As one progresses along the path, the method and the goal become indistinguishable. The 
practice becomes the goal for the practitioner, yet it remains the method for others, who 
still have to be led to Buddhahood. The Vajrayana meditation, therefore, is both method 
and goal--depending on one's place along the path, on the level of one's understanding 
and attainment.
Let us divide the Vajrayana meditation into two parts, each of which can in turn be 
divided into two subsections. To achieve Buddhahood, one has to perfect the 
accomplishments of merit and knowledge, the two prerequisites which are indispensable 
for achieving Buddhahood. Practice of the perfections of giving, good conduct, and 
patience results in the accomplishment of merit, while the perfections of meditation and 
wisdom result in the accomplishment of knowledge. Energy, the fourth perfection, is 
needed for both accomplishments.
The first half of the Vajrayana practice is an imitation--an internalized, contemplative, 
symbolic expression--of the Bodhisattva path through which merit and knowledge are 
perfected. Vajrayana meditation begins with the taking of refuge. It continues, in most 
cases, with awakening of the enlightenment thought and recollection of the practices of 
the Six Perfections and Four Immeasurables (love, compassion, appreciative joy, and 
equanimity). All these practices are internalized, meditative, symbolic expressions of the 
Bodhisattva's accumulation of merit.
As we look further into the contents of the Vajrayana Sadhana, we come next to the 
meditation on emptiness. This is nothing other than an internalized, symbolic expression 
of the Bodhisattva's accomplishment of knowledge. The Bodhisattva achieves knowledge 
through the perfection of meditation and the perfection of wisdom. Here, then we have 
the meditation on emptiness, a union of meditation and wisdom.
Thus far, we have considered the first half of the Vajrayana meditation, which 
corresponds to the career of the Bodhisattva up to his attainment of Buddhahood, with his 
two accomplishments of merit and of knowledge. These are represented symbolically by 
the taking of refuge, the awakening of the enlightenment thought, the practice of the Four 
Immeasurables, and the meditation on emptiness.
After the attainment of enlightenment, once Buddhahood is achieved, the 
accomplishments of merit and knowledge result in two fruits. These two fruits are the two 
dimensions of Buddhahood--the form dimension and the transcendental dimension--
which arise directly from the accomplishments of merit and knowledge. In the second 
half of the Vajrayana Sadhana, we have a symbolic, meditative paradigmatic expression, 
or replica, of the reality of Buddhahood that includes these two dimensions. This is 
represented in the sadhana through the use of the notion of two processes: (1) the process 
of creation, origination, or production, and (2) the process of completion, or perfection. 
These two processes correspond to the form and transcendental dimensions of 
Buddhahood, respectively.
In what way are these processes of creation and completion reflected symbolically--
replicated in meditative experience--in the context of the Vajrayana meditation? 
Following the symbolic attainment of Buddhahood, we have visualization of the form of 
the tutelary deity, in other words, the creation of the phenomenal dimension of 
Buddhahood in the shape of the particular tutelary deity to which the meditation belongs. 
The practitioner creates a conscious imitation of the phenomenal dimension of 
Buddhahood in the form of the tutelary deity in question. In addition, we have the 
recitation of the mantra of that deity. This recitation is a symbolic, internalized, 
meditative imitation of the Buddha's teaching of the Dharma. These two components--
the creation of the form of the tutelary deity, and the recitation of the mantra--constitute 
the process of creation. They correspond to the form dimension of Buddhahood, and are 
an imitation of the phenomenal activities of the Buddha.
These practices of the creation of the form of the deity and the recitation of the mantra are 
followed by a dissolution of the form of the deity into emptiness and a cessation of the 
recitation of the mantra. This dissolution and cessation is a symbolic, meditative replica 
of the transcendental dimension of Buddhahood.
In the second half of the Vajrayana meditation, therefore, we have an imitation of the 
activities or career of the Buddha, with its phenomenal and transcendental dimensions of 
Buddhahood. This imitation is achieved through use of the conceptions of the processes 
of creation and completion. The process of creation constitutes the visualization of the 
deity and the recitation of the mantra, which are paradigmatic of the Buddha's 
phenomenal dimension--his activities and teaching of the Dharma, respectively. The 
process of completion constitutes the dissolution of the deity and a cessation of the 
recitation of the mantra, which is paradigmatic of the Buddha's transcendental dimension.
In summary, in the Vajrayana meditation we have a complete replica or imitation of the 
careers of the Bodhisattvas and the Buddhas. The first part of the meditation is a replica 
of the Bodhisattva's accomplishment of merit and knowledge. The second part is a 
replica of the Buddha's phenomenal and transcendental dimensions.
I would like to return to the notion of meditation and wisdom. This point serves to 
emphasize the complete integrity of Buddhism, because it is absolutely characteristic of 
all the Buddhist traditions to insist on a fusion of concentration and insight, a union of 
tranquillity and penetrative vision or wisdom. In the context of the Vajrayana meditation, 
too, this union is essential. As the practitioner meditates on emptiness in the context of 
the imitation of the Bodhisattva's accomplishment of knowledge, he or she must unite 
meditation and wisdom. In this case, his or her ability to concentrate the mind on an 
object is applied to the understanding of emptiness. Whereas formerly he or she may have 
cultivated the ability to concentrate his or her mind with the help of an external support, 
such as a blue disk, here, in the context of the Vajrayana meditation, he or she focuses 
directly on the understanding of emptiness. In that way, through the meditation on 
emptiness, he or she imitates the Bodhisattva's accomplishment of knowledge through 
cultivation of the perfections of meditation and wisdom.
There must also be a union of meditation and wisdom in the context of visualizing the 
tutelary deity and reciting the mantra. Here the objects of concentration are the visualized 
form of the tutelary deity and the sound of the mantra, but the practitioner has to integrate 
his or her understanding of emptiness with his or her concentration on the form of the 
tutelary deity and the sound of the mantra so that, in the course of the visualization and 
recitation, he or she regards the visualization and the sound of the mantra as exemplary of 
empty phenomena--as similar to a reflection, a magical illusion, and an echo. This is the 
case because, just as a reflection or an echo occurs relative to causes and conditions, so 
the visualization of the tutelary deity and the sound of the mantra arise and exist relative 
to causes and conditions.
In the context of the Vajrayana meditation, the visualization and the recitation are also 
paradigmatic of interdependently originated phenomena and of emptiness, respectively. 
In the Vajrayana meditation, as in the other Buddhist traditions of mental development, 
the union of meditation and wisdom is absolutely necessary. This is