The most misunderstood of the Mahavidyas, Dhumavati symbolizes the void of ignorance of our true nature as well as that of absorption in knowledge. Her shadow aspect of ignorance is overcome by her light of Self-reflection, one of the niyamas of the Yoga Sutras.
Dhumavati is the void that form arises from and disappears into, at the end of each will-knowledge-action cycle. In this great void, even Shiva, who represents awareness, is swallowed into total stillness. Do not be misled by her apparent unattractiveness when compared to Shakti’s more radiant forms, for she offers creation the incomparable gift of knowing its true nature.
Dhumavati is “the smoky one,” and her outwardly unsightly form evokes the non-being prior to creation.
Exercise: Contemplate Dhumavati
Contemplate Dhumavati’s fearful form—what does it evoke in you? Does her darkness of the void bring about fear? If so, why? Can you trace the fear to its roots—is it a fear of dying or of being annihilated? You experience her power every night when you go into deep, dreamless sleep and wake up rested. How do you experience her void then?
Dhumavati represents the darkness of the void that is prior to creation as well as that which remains after creation comes to an end. Because form arises from the emptiness of the formless, the essential nature of form is also emptiness, just as gold is the nature of the necklace forged from it.
Dhumavati symbolizes the darkness of ignorance that ensues from becoming identified with the I-self, as well the darkness of non-being that occurs when the I-self collapses into her great void. Forms arise from and disappear into this great void at the end of each will-knowledge-action cycle. In this void, even Shiva, who represents awareness, is swallowed into her total stillness.
On the path of awakening, it’s helpful to regard the word “ignorance” as referring to our identification with the I-self causing an inability to perceive our true nature as radiant, empty formlessness. As we explored in chapter 6, knowledge can refer to either Self-knowledge or secular knowledge. Dhumavati’s smoky darkness represents both ignorance and Self-knowledge.
The only way we can be aware of an experience is when there is a subject experiencing an object. We can say we know a cup because there is a subject (I) knowing an object (cup). When the object or experience dissolves into the subject or experiencer, there is a blank in our experience, which is known as the void. We can’t know this void directly because there is no subject-object separation. We can only know it by inference or after the fact. When we are identified with the I-self, we are under the influence of Dhumavati’s darkness of ignorance. With the dawn of Self-knowledge, there is a collapse of the subject-object differentiation into the great void, which is a different aspect of her darkness.
Ordinarily, we are drawn into Dhumavati’s void every night in deep sleep, where there is loss of subject-object differentiation. Deep sleep is one of the following states of consciousness:
The formless emptiness of the Self becomes evident in deep meditation when all three states dissolve into the void. This is known as nirvikalpa samadhi, which translates to “absorption into objectlessness awareness,” and represents Dhumavati’s void of Self-knowledge. When we emerge from this void, our identity with the I-self has loosened.
On the other hand, deep sleep is the void of ignorance because although there is loss of subject-object differentiation in this state as well, our identity as the I-self continues when we wake up in the morning. When we are completely identified as the I-self, it is as if Shiva, the awareness that is our true nature, is swallowed by Dhumavati’s darkness of ignorance.
Dhumavati’s darkness of ignorance makes up the vasanas in the causal body that manifest as granthis in the subtle body, giving us our individual traits and behaviors. They determine the way we perceive ourselves and the world, and how we respond to it.
The location of our predominant knots determines the kinds of issues that form the basis of our identification with the I-self. As we explored in chapter 5, the Brahma granthi at the navel consists primarily of issues of security, grounding, sensual gratification, and earning approval. The Vishnu granthi in the chest is made up of issues centering around love and feeling validated, while the Rudra granthi at the third eye consists of confusion regarding our true nature and the inability to separate the real from the unreal. Our I-self at any given point is merely a reflection of our predominant granthi.
As we progress along the path, the unraveling of the Brahma and Vishnu granthis abate our tamasic and rajasic desires, bringing us to the Rudra granthi. In general, the issues associated with the granthis become subtler and more sattvic as we move from the Brahma to the Rudra granthi. As we will see in the next chapter, sattvic desires arise here—we can want to appear spiritual or virtuous, or gain approval of the spiritual teacher. Our judgments and comparisons, the labels we use to describe ourselves as well as our desires, become subtler, but they have not left us.
Identification as the I-self is a process that occurs as a coming together of the shadows of all the previous Mahavidyas. In Kali’s shadow, time keeps us entrapped in stories of the past and future that produce the labels that obscure Tara’s pristine vibration of our true nature. Time-based concepts give rise to Sundari’s shadow of obsessive desire that constrict us in Bhuvaneshwari’s shadow, leading to inertia, Bhairavi’s shadow. Depending on how each of these shadows plays out in our lives, our causal body becomes saturated with vasanas. They pull us toward the things we like and push us away from what we don’t like. We become addicted to the I-self, Chinnamasta’s shadow, which brings us to Dhumavati’s shadow of ignorance.
The Devi Mahatmyam is a text that describes Shakti’s victory throughout the ages. In one tale, the devas are ousted from their heavenly abodes by a pair of asura brothers named Shumbha and Nishumbha. To help the devas, Shakti takes the form of an exceedingly beautiful woman to attract the asuras’ attention. They decide that they must possess her, but she thwarts their advances to irk them. Enraged by her haughtiness, Shumbha and Nishumbha send their best generals to fight her. Much to their dismay and growing rage, she kills them all with surprising ease, forcing the brothers to face her themselves. When she temporarily stuns Nishumbha, Shumbha is beside himself because his brother is more dear to him than life itself. He attacks her with brute force, and she disarms him. Instantly, Nishumbha rises to help his brother. The battle goes on, each brother springing up to save the other. Eventually, Nishumbha meets his end, followed shortly thereafter by Shumbha.
In this tale, Shumbha is the I-self, and his brother, Nishumbha—who is so dear to him—is attachment. They are inseparable, each rising to keep the other alive in the great battle toward Self-knowledge. This is because attachment to what we like leads to aversion to what we don’t like—which comes to define who we think we are. It is difficult for Shakti to kill off attachment, Nishumbha, because the I-self, Shumbha, springs up to keep them both alive.
As our desires become increasingly sattvic, the I-self detaches from one granthi to attach to the subtler one. We find it increasingly difficult to detect these subtle desires in ourselves. It is challenging for us to give up our attachments to our way of life, our beliefs, what we think is right or wrong, our spiritual teaching or teacher, our spiritual circle, and what we consider to be good or virtuous. This is the predicament of sattvic desires. Often, we can mistake the initial freedom of the granthi unraveling to mean that our issues are completely resolved.
Sattvic desires and issues are the most difficult obstacles to overcome on the spiritual path because they feel so good and virtuous. They form a very thin veil of validation over the I-self—the see-through veil of Dhumavati’s smoky skin fools us into thinking that we have reached the end of the path.
Shumbha and Nishumbha represent the very obstacle that keeps us from realizing our true nature—the desire to possess knowledge. As we have seen in chapter 6, knowledge that we can possess constricts us as Bhuvaneshwari’s shadow and further impedes our opening to Self-knowledge. The desire to possess it keeps us bound to Dhumavati’s shadow of ignorance.
The subtlest of all desires is the desire for knowledge. Knowledge is so seductive that it can become our identity. We shed the label of being an executive or a housewife to assume that of a Vedantin or tantric because we have accumulated knowledge of the teaching. The I-self remains alive and well when we spend our time discussing, arguing, agreeing, or disagreeing with fellow seekers, or intimidating others with our intellectual prowess. We desperately try to own Self-knowledge by turning it into an object. Like Shumbha and Nishumbha, attachment to knowledge keeps us strongly identified with the I-self.
Self-knowledge is the knowing of one’s true nature that is beyond words, teachings, and pointers, unlike ordinary knowledge, which is secular, where I know of something. I go to school to become a doctor, someone who knows about medicine. I don’t become medicine—it is the object of my knowledge. Self-knowledge is the process of becoming the Self, or rather, discovering that we have always been the Self. Unlike objects, it cannot be possessed.
Exercise: Recognizing Sattvic Vasanas
Make a list of your sattvic desires and beliefs—what virtues do you associate yourself with? How do you think others should behave based on the virtues you see in yourself? Which of these virtues are you willing to give up for Self-knowledge?
Many of us are attracted to the spiritual path for its promise of eternal bliss and joy. While this is the eventual result of sadhana, many of us will encounter periods of intense darkness and confusion. This happens because when we lose something that we identify ourselves with, we can be plunged into deep darkness—being fired from your job can be devastating if it made up a big part of your identity, and breaking up with a lover can throw you into depression if the relationship defined you. Whenever the I-self disintegrates without warning because of loss of its defining object, the resulting darkness can seem overpowering and unbearable.
The I-self supports itself through conceptual meaning. The subtle body takes in random bits and pieces of information and weaves a story around the I-self based on the likes and dislikes of the causal body. When an unexpected life event destroys our concepts, we are suddenly immersed in meaninglessness—the subtle body is paralyzed, unable to do its job of providing coherent meaning to the event. This meaninglessness is the great void that Dhumavati represents—nothing makes sense in this state.
On the spiritual path, the dark night of the soul dawns when we have lost conceptual meaning, and life itself becomes meaningless. When the I-self has been seen through, we can lose interest in life, and motivation disappears. When this happened to me, the old motivation for success fell away, and nothing arose to take its place. It took enormous effort to function. More than anything, I longed for solitude, to sit still with not even the slightest desire to move. Even though my work and family demanded my attention, I was so deeply inward-drawn that everything seemed irrelevant and absurd. Even spiritual pursuits, discussions, and gatherings seemed superfluous and ridiculous.
Whether we are forced into the void through life events or as an unfolding on the spiritual path, Dhumavati eventually opens us to her light of Self-reflection if we can allow her void to engulf us completely.
Self-reflection is one of the niyamas in the Yoga Sutras, which is understood as study of the Self. The only way we can study the Self is to become it—but even this is a misnomer, because we are always already the Self.
The Self, which is also known as awareness, or turiya, is the only subject. All sense perceptions, thoughts, emotions, memories, and imaginative and mental constructs arise as objects that are known by the Self.
Self-reflection is to stand as the Self. When we abide as Self, body, mind, emotions, logic, and the I-self are clearly seen as objects that arise and subside in it. The Self is aware of all objects arising in it but is itself without shape, form, boundaries, or other attributes. When we take a stand as the Self, we see that no object exists as we previously thought it did. All objects—including the body, sense perceptions, the world, emotions, and thoughts—are made up of the Self. They too are seen to be without attributes and arising from the Self as the Self.
Dhumavati’s void consumes all conceptual meanings, revealing all objects to be her own essence. The void swallows all objects, enabling us to see the Self that shines in them. This is why she is not black—the spark of light embedded in the darkness gives her a smoky hue. When we are pulled into this void, even our quest for liberation disintegrates.
Dhumavati’s shadow, which represents the darkness of ignorance that weighs us down, can persist even after prolonged sadhana. We can remain ignorant of our true nature because we become attached to the sattva that we cultivate. As we move into her light, scriptures and gurus are left behind as we fall endlessly into Self-reflection, which is the path of doing nothing.
In Dhumavati’s void, the I-self that was the basis of life, work, and family cannot be found upon closer inspection. The “I” disappears into the great void, and in its vastness, everything that we hold dear dissolves into nothingness. As the I-self begins to dissolve, it looks for a foothold—not finding one, it struggles. During this phase, there is nothing we can do other than to let go into the void. Fighting it causes more discord and pain. If we have a fixed idea about what Self-knowledge looks like, we will resist this phase, particularly if we expected it to be a state of continuous bliss and joy. Instead, what we feel will be far from it. To avail ourselves of Dumavati’s grace, we will need to give up the last bit of expectation about awakening.
When we finally give in, Dhumavati relents—she arranges our life circumstances to live through this phase of being consumed in the darkness of the void. In my case, the void had become so overwhelming that I considered quitting my job. Instead, I was granted a monthlong sabbatical. Free of responsibilities and pressing to-do lists, I spent the month sitting still in silence—this Self-reflection was exactly what I had needed. By the end of the month, the paralysis had lifted. I returned to work renewed, as the darkness of the formless void began to blend into form. Life became colorful and joyful again. Motivation and interest for life returned, with increasing clarity, creativity, and joy. Of all the Mahavidyas, Dhumavati shows us that she is not a force to be transcended—she is a force that we need to surrender to. And the way of surrender is to do nothing.
The arising of the witness is one of the many turning points on the spiritual path, which is a critical necessity for self-inquiry and, eventually, surrender to Dhumavati’s void. For our inquiry to be effective, we need to be able to look at our thoughts and beliefs in a nonjudgmental fashion. This is witnessing, in which we stand apart from our experience and simply watch it as it unfolds. The most effective way to cultivate witnessing is through a committed meditation practice. When we can watch the breath or a mantra as it arises and subsides, we notice that we can watch our thoughts and actions as they arise in daily life.
Dhumavati’s sorting winnow is symbolic of the distinction between the witness and experience. The witness is the grain, and experience the chaff. When she coughs up creation, the witness separates from experience—the subject separates from the objects it experiences, giving rise to “me” and “other.” The separate and limited I-self is taken to be the subject, replacing Shiva, who represents the unchanging and eternal witness that is the subject of all experience. We mistakenly take ourselves to be the limited subject—the I-self that is created and sustained in time and space. The first important milestone in sadhana is to create a clear differentiation between subject and object by cultivating the witness. The grain must first be separated from the chaff to enable the subsequent realization that they were never separate.
As we learn to stand apart from experience, we see that our bodies, mind, sense perceptions, thoughts, and emotions arise and subside in witnessing awareness. Over time, there is a gradual shift of identity from being the I-self to being this witnessing awareness. Here, we follow the advice of the sages to stop doing, which means that we stop manipulating the experiences that arise in any way.
Remaining still, we allow all thoughts, emotions, reactions, and stories to arise and be as they are. Instead of engaging with the story associated with the arising, we simply notice it. We do nothing to force the thought or emotion away but allow its energy to surface fully. We don’t resort to mantra, shifting of attention, or redirecting experience. We study the Self in this radical manner—what remains unchanging in this experience?
The witness, when thus cultivated, makes way for Self-reflection, where we are swallowed into Dhumavati’s depths and the grain and chaff become one—there is no separation between subject and object. When we do nothing to manipulate experience, we are presented with the true nature of the experience—it is not separate from witnessing awareness. We realize that who we are is not separate from our shadows and our light.
Dhumavati represents both the darkness of ignorance as well as that of Self-knowledge. Like her winnow that holds the grain along with its impurities of stones and dirt, she holds both aspects of darkness within her.
When the void of Self-knowledge is known, there is often the strong temptation to remain there and to not engage in life at all. The absolute stillness of the void can draw us into its deep, irresistible fold. We may sink into nihilism, viewing the world as a nonexistent illusion, becoming drained of the juice of love, compassion, and creativity.
Staying in the void can be easier than facing our remaining shadows, leading to spiritual bypassing (which we will see in chapter 12). However, Dhumavati will have none of this—she dredges up all our unresolved issues. Her purpose in insisting that we fully process and embrace our shadows is to help us overcome all remnants of separation from the Divine. Unforgiving of our resistance to our shadows, she forces us to realize that both the shadow and the light arise from the same source. Preference of light over the shadow is not Shakti’s way. Neither plunging into nihilism nor standing separate from life will do—everything must be seen equally as the Divine.
Dhumavati is the most misunderstood of the Mahavidyas. As the dark form of Shakti, she is commonly worshiped for attaining siddhis—supernormal powers. Aspirants perform austerities on moonless nights in cemeteries and graveyards to attain supernormal powers. For this reason, she is not worshiped in common culture, and is considered the very opposite of Lakshmi, the radiant goddess of abundance and beauty.
Tantra is unique in its equal acceptance of the beautiful and the depraved. As a path of inner alchemy, tantra views our shadows as valuable tools for the discovery of our light. It lovingly catalyzes the conversion of all that we find impure and unwanted within ourselves into purity and sweetness—but not through effort and manipulation. It happens by complete surrender. When we can let our arising experiences simply be without trying to manipulate or change them into what we want, non-doing becomes increasingly effortless. We learn to be active and engaged in the world, while doing absolutely nothing. The doer that we identify ourselves as is laid to rest—doing happens, with the absence of both the doer and the enjoyer.
It is in Dhumavati’s worship that the three yogas—bhakti, jnana, and karma—come together. In every moment, we surrender to what is, seeing it to be no different than our true nature, and in this seeing, we serve the whole through our actions. Tantra shows us that liberation is not merely about transcending our shadows but about embracing them. In this intimate embrace, the very shadows that we desperately push away and resist become transformed. Through Dhumavati’s grace of Self-reflection, the darkness of our limitations turns into blissful abundance. This is the greatest siddhi.
Exercise: Moving from Shadow to Light—Who Are You, Really?
In this exercise, you will unearth your true identity, which will enable the practice of Self-reflection.
The above exercise shows us that who we are cannot be found in our bodies or our mind. With repeated contemplation and inquiry, we come to see that who we are is that in which the body and mind arise.
Exercise: Non-Dual Inquiry on Dhumavati’s Role in Creation—The Void of Deep Sleep
Unlike the waking or dream states, there are no objects appearing in witnessing awareness in deep sleep. We pass from the dream state into deep sleep, a period of consciousness without objects that is then followed by the appearance of objects as we dream or wake up. Because there isn’t an “I” that is aware of what happens in deep sleep, this inquiry cannot be performed while sleeping! Begin with the Heart Opener (chapter 2).
From this inquiry, we see that we didn’t wake up with a new identity. We didn’t experience our bodies, thoughts, or emotions in deep sleep, but our identity as “I” continued anyway. This tells us that who we are does not depend upon the objects of the body or the mind.
Deep sleep is not the only access we have to awareness without objects. The silent gap between thoughts, or arisings, is the void of objectless witnessing awareness. In this gap, Dhumavati has consumed the prior thought into her dark void and has not yet expelled the next one. This silent gap occurs naturally throughout the day. By remaining in the gap, we can experience the power of her void that takes us to turiya, the stateless state.
Dhumavati’s sadhana reveals the void in which our shadows are reconciled with our light. In the depths of her dark void, we come to see that the awareness that is our true nature is also the nature of everything that arises in it. Having paid homage to her in the abyss, we emerge from its depths transformed and adept in the art of non-doing. At this point, the path of the Mahavidyas takes a sharp turn. Dhumavati has taught us to stand as awareness, the Self, and from this vantage point, our remaining shadows are welcomed into our loving embrace.