Tripura Sundari’s shadow of obsessive desire is dissolved in her light of non-clinging, one of the yamas of the Yoga Sutras. The realization of her beauty releases us from the binding bonds of desire and catalyzes its conversion into unconditional love.
In the previous chapter, we saw how Shakti separates from Shiva as the vibration of self-awareness. This vibration is saturated with divine will, knowledge, and action. Tripura Sundari’s loveliness is meant to draw us in, for she represents divine will, or desire, the fuel for creation.
Without desire, creation cannot progress in linear time, and desire is symbolized by Tripura Sundari (also referred to as “Sundari”), whose name means “beautiful goddess of the three cities.” As we will see, the three cities refer to the numerous triads that form the substrate of creation. Sundari not only fuels the birth of creation but also pervades it with the power of desire—we can’t help but be enchanted.
Exercise: Contemplate Sundari
Feel Sundari’s presence and her exquisite beauty. Does it induce a longing to possess her? Are there situations and people in your life that are so beautiful that you are driven to own them? Can you separate the feeling of longing from the circumstance or person and feel its energy?
Creation begins with divine will for expansion. Will is driven by desire and catalyzed into action by divine knowledge of the intricate workings of the various parts that make up the whole, and how the whole is affected by each part. Will, knowledge, and action become manifest through three qualities known as gunas:
All forms arise from the three gunas, which manifest their unique properties by combining in various ways to form the five great elements (explained chapter 4).
The elements combine to form the three doshas, which are responsible for the structure and function of the macrocosm and microcosm (figure 2). Doshas drive our life spans, day-and-night and seasonal cycles, and the neurological and hormonal changes that drive our habits, health, and behavior.20
The three cities refer to the triads that characterize everything in creation. If we take the example of evolution, vata moves the forces of change, pitta transforms one form into another, and kapha stabilizes the change. Notice that gunas and doshas occur in triples. As long as the triples of gunas and doshas remain in the proportions inherent for the object, there is harmony. Imbalance results in disharmony and disease. Gunas and doshas determine the state of the universe as well as our response to life from moment to moment.
Gunas and doshas are only two examples of such triads. The triad of qualities that define Shiva-Shakti are sat (eternal), chit (consciousness), and ananda (bliss), which project into the states of waking, dream state, and deep sleep. In everything that you experience, there is the triad of you the experiencer, the object that you experience, and the act of experiencing. As we’ve seen, creation itself arises from the triad of divine will, knowledge, and action. Creation is made of triads, and Sundari rules over them all.
The gunas, from which all objects arise, are saturated with desire and knowledge to manifest their own properties. Take earth, for instance—we wake up in the morning and go about our day without having to think about gravity and other forces that enable us to stay upright and grounded. Earth’s heaviness ensures that these properties occur in balance.
Consider the miracle of life as an example of the triads at work. You, with your complex brain and body, came from a single cell that was not only driven to divide and differentiate into a unique individual—it also knew how to go about it. Could this phenomenon occur without the inherent longing of an organism to survive and proliferate? Can you take any action without desire? Our desire for a result makes us do even the things that we don’t like doing.
Exercise: Contemplate Desire
Call up an object of desire and contemplate how you approach it. You might long for it, but don’t feel worthy of it. Or you might become desperate to have it and do anything to obtain it. How does desire propel you to act? What strategies do you come up with to get what you want?
Recall that vasanas (discussed in chapter 3) are emotional and energetic signatures attached to an event that result in dualities such as likes and dislikes. They form the seeds of desire, which then play out in how we act and what we pursue.
No matter who we are or what our cultural background is, each of us desires one or more of the following:
Our vasanas determine which of these universal desires we pursue at any given time. All four categories of desire are natural and expected for human life, and pose no inherent problem. If our vasanas could be exhausted by fulfilling them, our sense of lack would heal, and we would wake up to our true nature. However, our sense of lack never abates because in the process of fulfilling our naturally arising desires, we create more vasanas.
The sense of lack that arises from identifying with the I-self leads us to mistakenly believe that obtaining the objects we desire will make us complete. In this belief, we become emotionally and energetically entangled with them, creating karma. If I believe that a romantic partner can “complete” me, I feel good when he or she behaves in ways that validate me and bad otherwise. His or her actions determine whether my desire to feel a certain way is fulfilled or not. Our behavior and attitude toward each other create a cascade of events and circumstances—even long after the relationship ends, we continue to harbor an emotional and energetic charge associated with the relationship.
When we rely on objects, people, or situations to fulfill us, they end up controlling us by the power we give them to perform this function. This predicament arises because our senses tend to be outward-bound, as symbolized by Sundari’s flower-laden arrows that keep us bound to karma. The sugarcane bow that shoots these arrows speaks of the sweet allure of these karma-creating objects, even when they cause us pain. Our past stories of being wronged can keep playing in our mind for days, weeks, and months—sometimes even years. We can derive a paradoxical satisfaction from being miserable because our misery validates our sense of lack.
Desire-driven vasanas reside in the causal body and veil our true nature. They create energetic obstructions in the subtle body that drive how we interpret the world, which in turn determines how we go about fulfilling our desires. These obstructions, which are known as granthis, or knots, occur at three primary locations along the spine. They are named after the triad of deities that create, preserve, and destroy the cosmos. In the subtle body, these granthis refer to the issues that create, preserve, and destroy the I-self.
The navel granthi represents the lower three chakras—root, sacral, and navel—and is named after Brahma, the creator. This is where our desires for survival, sense pleasure, power, fame, domination, and ambition are housed. They arise from the stories that create our identification with the I-self that we pick up from our caregivers early in life. They revolve around what we need to do or get to feel worthy and validated—the universal desires for purpose, comfort, and pleasure. Energetic obstruction, or a knot, in this area results in attachment, insecurity, fear, hope, and self-doubt, all of which give rise to the sense of being a limited being, the I-self.
The heart granthi maintains the sense of limitation of the I-self and is named after Vishnu, the preserver of creation. In the constant push and pull between attraction and aversion to our life experiences, our sense of lack and separation is continually resurrected in this area. Our dualistic responses to situations, people, and life experiences fuel the ongoing cascade of karma that preserves the I-self.
When we get what we want, the I-self is strengthened by the story of success. When we don’t, the I-self is strengthened by the story of disappointment or failure. Our likes and dislikes create constant karma that keeps the I-self going.
The granthi at the third eye (see figure 1 in chapter 3) is named after Rudra, the destroyer. It represents the obstruction to realizing our true nature, which is removed when identification with the I-self is destroyed. Obstructions here take the form of lack of discernment between the real (Self) and the unreal (I-self), and ongoing attachment to the I-self.
Sundari’s throne with Brahma, Vishnu, and Rudra as supports demonstrates her influence over the three granthis that create, sustain, and destroy identification with the I-self. Through Ishana, the fourth leg of her throne, she conceals our true nature and keeps us fixated on finding completion through external objects.
We will need to untie the granthis to see through her concealing veil, and this is best done in order, starting at the navel and progressing to the third eye. This is because the authentic desire to see through Sundari’s power of concealment arises only when the lower two granthis are dissolved.
When the Brahma granthi is dissolved, we begin to see how our identity rests on feeling complete through external objects, people, and situations. At this point, we are naturally drawn to examine our likes and dislikes and discover how our identity seems to rest on our past conditioning that colors our currently arising experience. We begin to see that our mistaken identity is the root cause of our suffering. We naturally start to develop the ability to stand back from our experience and to discern between the real and the unreal.
When our discernment gains momentum, we spontaneously begin to lose interest in the processes that create and sustain the I-self. We lose interest in creating further karma or vasanas. Such discernment and dispassion together facilitate the dissolution of the Rudra granthi and the opening to our true nature, the Self.
Although we may be inclined to think that desire for liberation is better than the other three desires, Sundari’s iconography helps us understand that there is no fundamental difference between the four universal desires: although the objects of desire are different, the underlying longing is the same.
As desire, Sundari rules over both the concealing and the revealing powers of the Divine—on one hand, longing casts a concealing veil upon our true nature and on the other, it catalyzes its discovery.
Exercise: Granthi Inquiry
Make a list of all of your desires, sorting them into the categories of purpose, comfort, pleasure, and liberation. Can you relate them to the three granthis? Are there some desires that are stronger than others? How do they determine how you function in the world?
Recall an instance when you fell so deeply in love that it kept you up at night. What did you want more than anything? Your mind was probably dominated by thoughts of your lover, recalling something he or she said or did, and longing to see him or her again. You could say you were obsessed, where you were unable to see any flaws in him or her. Your longing for your lover created a sort of blindness.
Obsession is the outcome of burning desire in the subtle body, where it clouds our perception and discernment. We can want an object of desire so badly that we momentarily lose our ability to see that it will never fulfill us permanently.
Desire drives the how-to of action—when we want something desperately, we will do anything to get it. The knowledge of what we need to do to fulfill our desires arises from past experience and rests on future aspirations. In the above example, our desire to be with our beloved drives the knowledge of how, where, when, and under what circumstances we might take the next step in our relationship.
This passionate or go-getting approach is highly prized in our culture as the key to success. Passion may lead to purposeful action and even give us our desired outcome, but it keeps us emotionally bound to our actions. In the above example, if our advances are reciprocated, we feel validated. If not, we may feel angry, hurt, or betrayed. Both outcomes strengthen our identification with the I-self. Our desires therefore entangle us in Sundari’s noose of suffering.
Sundari represents both the immanence and the transcendence of Shiva-Shakti in creation. She willingly conceals her true form to become limited as the I-self, by the power of her own shadow. She not only limits herself as the I-self, but she also becomes the objects that we chase, tricking us into worshiping her in them.
She is therefore known as Lalita, “the playful one.” She mischievously makes us look for contentment everywhere else before directing us to look for it within ourselves. When we finally do, she opens us to her light of non-clinging.
When a baby looks in a mirror for the first time, she is delighted and enamored by her own reflection. Similarly, Tara symbolizes the act of Shiva looking at himself while Sundari symbolizes the delight and self-love of self-recognition.
If we could distill all of our emotions and thoughts into their finest vibration, we would see that they arise from unconditional love. We experience desire because we love ourselves. This self-love is also the basis of self-loathing in a paradoxical way. If we didn’t care about something, we wouldn’t have any feelings about it. We desire for things to be different only if we care about them. It’s just that Sundari’s spell keeps us so fixated on the objects of our passions that we lose sight of the underlying love.
Succumbing to Sundari’s shadow, we innocently believe that love can be experienced by acquiring, having, and holding. Desire for an object distorts and conceals the pure love of our being. If we can disengage from objects, we will discover the underlying vibration of love in the I-Am. This disengagement occurs through non-clinging, or dispassion. In sadhana, clarity of desire is crucial to realizing Sundari’s light.
Desires for purpose, comfort, and pleasure revolve around improving the I-self and curing its inherent sense of lack. All desires center around the I-self—even when they seem to be altruistic. For instance, we serve others not only because we care about them but also because it makes us feel validated about having given back, about doing a good deed, or for accruing good karma. The desire for liberation, or self-realization, also centers around the I-self, with a desire for “me” to be free. However, self-realization is not for the I-self. It is freedom from the I-self.
Sundari’s shadow induces us to confuse desire for self-improvement with that for liberation. Identification as the limited I-self is often so overpowering that the desire to improve it overshadows the longing to be free of it.
Sundari’s sadhana requires absolute self-honesty. We can stop pretending that we want one thing when we long for something else. With self-honesty, we can freely acknowledge our deepest desires, which may be as simple as wanting to be respected or to make money. Acknowledgment is powerful because if making money is my true desire but I chase spiritual liberation instead based on what someone else said my desire should be, I fall prey to Tara’s shadow of self-deception as well as Sundari’s shadow of confusion.
When we are honest about our desires, Tara’s light of truth opens us to the opportunities to fulfill them. When our desire is unclear, our actions lose their potency. Without clarity, we can continue to pursue self-realization when we want self-improvement, actualizing neither in the process and becoming further entrenched in suffering. But if we can let go of conflicting agendas and make use of desire, our energy can be gathered into one-pointed concentration. As soon as we wholeheartedly accept our authentic desire, the knowledge required for how to go about applying our skills will become clear, spurring us into right action. This is the secret to manifesting our desires.
In right action, we fulfill desire without creating further karma because we are not perpetuating the vasanas that fuel its cycles. By taking full responsibility for our emotional and physiological responses with respect to our desires, we fulfill them without any karmic residue.
This entails understanding that our responses are merely the result of our past conditioning that determines how our subtle body processes the world. In this mode of operation, I can desire a relationship but I absolve the other person of the responsibility to make me feel good. I fully enjoy the relationship with no expectations or regrets, allowing it to run its natural course.
Through vigilance and contemplation, we stop making our joy or pain dependent on the world. And if we can fulfill materialistic desires without creating negative karma, a genuine desire for liberation arises spontaneously.
When it comes to sadhana, clarity in desire is more conducive to progress than struggling with wanting something else. The nature of this path is that our desire becomes increasingly open and spacious, or sattvic in quality. Eventually we will find that we’re no longer practicing to get somewhere, and we’re savoring the path itself. Desire can be used as fuel for this transformation and is known as bhakti.
Bhakti is devotion, such as that of a mother for her child or of a lover for his beloved, and arises from an intense desire to be one with the other person. The path of the Mahavidyas is devotional in nature, where we long to become one with the deity and identify with her. The deities’ profound symbolism is particularly conducive for the cultivation of bhakti. We can think of our favorite deity often, learning to see her play in our mind and in the world. We can learn to see that she is the doer of everything in creation and lovingly offer all our desires to her.
When desire is transmuted into bhakti, Sundari’s noose turns into the binding force of love. Bhakti opens us to the beauty of creation, where we learn to worship in wonder without wanting to acquire or own its objects.
As our sadhana continues, Sundari’s arrows return to their quiver, and our attention turns to the awareness that the senses arise in. This happens when we begin to realize that we don’t ever experience a sense object. For example, when we look at a tree, we only experience the faculty of sight, which arises in awareness, and when we feel its bark with our hands, we only experience the faculty of touch, which also arises in awareness. This is a significant turn in our sadhana because external objects lose their previous appeal—Sundari’s light of non-clinging begins to dawn.
Aided by Sundari’s light, our sense perceptions become increasingly refined. Now we look at a tree and find that what we really see is shape and color. When we touch it, we only know texture. We begin to see our emotions and mind states as temporary vibrations arising and subsiding in awareness. Even though our thoughts, emotions, and sense perceptions come in various flavors, the awareness they arise in remains untouched and pristine.
We come to see that although Sundari infuses herself in everything that she creates, she remains simultaneously untouched and unchanged, sitting upon Sadashiva, the revealing power of the Divine. As her light pours through, we realize that this unchanging awareness is who we really are, in which even the I-self arises and subsides.
The paradox of sadhana is that both passionate desire and non-clinging are required for progress. Without passionate desire for liberation, we wouldn’t be motivated to inquire into our true nature. At the same time, it is impossible to inquire without non-clinging or dispassion for objects. What we need, then, is bhakti for awareness and non-clinging toward everything arising in it. This paradox is what makes Sundari the central figure of the Mahavidyas. She is the driving force for both suffering and liberation.
Exercise: Moving from Shadow to Light—Unearthing Authentic Desire
To gain clarity in how we must act and what we must do, we must discover our authentic desires. This discovery aids us in understanding our granthis and how we must go about unraveling them.
As you go about your day, notice your likes and dislikes and pause to see where they come from. When you dislike something or someone, you might desire for him or her to be different. Does it feel different than the desire for self-respect (or whatever came up in the above exercise)? What do your likes and dislikes tell you about what you really want?
Exercise: Non-Dual Inquiry on Sundari’s Role in Creation—Longing
In this exercise, we will investigate the feeling of desire in direct experience. Set aside fifteen to thirty minutes when you will not be disturbed. Begin with the Heart Opener (chapter 2).
In this inquiry, we see that the thought of an object arises first and is followed by a sensation in the body. It can feel like a movement, heaviness, or tug in the heart area. By the time the sensation arises, the thought of the object is gone. A claim-thought arises that links the desire-thought with the sensation. The claim-thought puts it all together in a conclusive way, such as, That car makes my heart long for it. In reality, the sensation is an independent arising. If we observe closely, the sensation of desire is the same regardless of the object.
The process of unearthing authentic desire can take time, and it is often revealed in stages. We proceed with as much honesty and willingness as we are capable of at every stage. As Sundari’s light begins to dawn, it reveals our shadows and blind spots. When we work on those issues, our granthis are progressively untied until our desires for self-improvement fade away, making way for desire for self-realization.
The path from obsession and confusion to the freedom of non-clinging takes us from attention to the object of desire to the nature of desire itself, where we see that Sundari resides in us—willing, knowing, and acting—as us. Her light of non-clinging releases us from the binding bonds of desire and catalyzes its conversion into unconditional love.