Bagalamukhi’s light is purity, one of the niyamas of the Yoga Sutras. It silences her shadow aspect of clutter and opens us to the constant stream of miracles that make up the flow of our lives.
As the Divine’s power of stillness, Bagalamukhi determines the fate of even the minutest particle in creation. Each strike of her mace resounds throughout the cosmos, the waves of impact rippling through every creature and object. The aftermath of the strike spares nothing and no one: we are stunned into stillness.
Her name is derived from “bridle” or “rein.” She holds the reins of creation, controlling its fate in every moment.
Exercise: Contemplate Bagalamukhi
Visualize Bagalamukhi in your mind’s eye—can you allow her mace to strike your tongue? What would it do to your ability to express yourself? If her mace were to still your mind’s chatter, what words would you use to describe yourself or your experience?
Bagalamukhi represents the countless invisible pauses that determine the course of creation. As creation unfolds, there are infinite possibilities in every step. The completion of each cycle of will-knowledge-action is followed by a silent pause that determines the next cycle. For example, many say a certain type of ape decided to stand and walk upright amidst countless other choices: the ape could have continued on all fours, regressed to another form, or become extinct. At each step in creation, a particular course was charted that resulted in the cascade of events leading to the present moment. Bagalamukhi’s power of stilling gives creation infinite possibilities in any given moment.
Bagalamukhi is the radiant silence of witnessing awareness, or turiya, that all phenomena arise in. She is the silence and brilliant clarity that is easily accessed as the gap between thoughts, between choice and action, between sleep and wakefulness, between the ending of one action and the beginning of a new one, between the in-breath and the out-breath, between sensing and cognition.
Infinite possibilities exist in this timeless gap. Yet because our grooves of habitual thought and action run so deep, we inevitably choose our next step based on our likes and dislikes. This is why we need Bagalamukhi’s mace to still our habitual patterns and open to other possibilities.
Bagalamukhi’s mace opens us to the stillness in which we can witness the many limitations that obscure the Self in layers. Her stillness enables us to peel away these layers, like peeling an onion.23 The I-self takes shape in these five layers based on the obstructions that make up the granthis:
The sadhana of the Mahavidyas opens us sequentially to the light of each goddess—Kali catapults us from her shadow of linear time into the eternal Now, opening us to Tara’s pristine vibration, the I-Am. Discovery of this vibration leads us to non-clinging—we are gradually freed from Sundari’s shadow of obsessive and misplaced desire, which in turn leads us to Bhuvaneshwari’s light of surrender and the flowering of Bhairavi’s grace of perseverance in action. The collective light of appropriate will-knowledge-action leads us to Chinnamasta’s brahmacharya. Dhumavati then engulfs us in Self-reflection, dragging us into the void.
Bagalamukhi is the stillness and silence of the void that opens us to turiya, or witnessing awareness within which the three bodies, the three granthis, and the five sheaths appear. Her mace stills our sadhana so we can discern what we must do to peel away the layers that seem to obscure turiya. It helps us see the obstructions along our path that arise as her shadow of clutter.
Ordinarily, we think of speech as the production of sounds by the complex brain–vocal cord–respiratory apparatus. In tantra, speech refers to all forms of expression, including the more upstream process of thinking. In general, there are two types of thoughts: functional and blah-blah. Recent research in neuroscience demonstrates that functional and blah-blah thoughts arise from two different networks in the brain.
Functional thoughts arise from areas of the brain known as the task-positive network. They refer to thoughts that are related to planning and organizing. In these thoughts, the intellect sheath is relatively unclouded. Functional thoughts don’t revolve around the I-self, and tend to be neutral and balanced—they result in purposeful action. For example, if you are planning a birthday party, you count the number of people who are coming and plan meals, decorations, gifts, and entertainment. Thoughts involved in this process are matter-of-fact and practical.
On the other hand, the brain defaults to blah-blah thoughts when we are not involved in purposeful activity. These thoughts arise from what is currently known as the default-mode network.24 These thoughts have no purpose and don’t result in meaningful action. These are the thoughts that result in constant rumination, starting from the time we wake up and ending only when we fall asleep. These thoughts have to do with memory and replay of past events, or worry and anxiety over the future. They revolve around validating and justifying the I-self, what we or others should have done or should do, and what the outcome of any action should be or should have been. They are the what-ifs and hope-nots that have no relevance to the present moment. When these thoughts are active, the intellect sheath is clouded by memory, and our judgment is tainted because they are the manifestation of the likes and dislikes arising from the vasanas in the causal body.
Blah-blah thoughts are responsible for all of our suffering and anxiety—they are the culmination of the shadows of all Mahavidyas. They project to the past or future because of the influence of Kali’s shadow and revolve around the labels and concepts with which we define ourselves, which is Tara’s shadow. These labels give rise to a sense of lack that in turn gives rise to Sundari’s shadow of obsessive desire and longing. Obsessive desire that sustains the I-self’s sense of lack makes us feel constricted via the manifestation of Bhuvaneshwari’s shadow. By clouding the intellect, blah-blah thoughts deter us from purposeful action and steep us in Bhairavi’s shadow of inertia. By becoming addicted to their incessant activity via Chinnamasta’s shadow, we feel disconnected from the Divine and are pulled into Dhumavati’s shadow of ignorance of our true nature. The clutter of blah-blah thoughts among our five sheaths is the looming shadow of Bagalamukhi. They are represented by her nemesis—she strikes his symbolic tongue to still the activity of our five sheaths and enable us to wake up to the purity of silence.
Exercise: Blah-Blah Thoughts
Notice your blah-blah thoughts as you go about your day. What are they saying? Write down your observation of the shadows of the Mahavidyas in your blah-blah thoughts. Can you detect Kali’s shadows of judgment and the comparison shadow of Sundari’s longing for something?
As our sadhana progresses, witnessing makes it possible for us to see that we are neither the body nor certain aspects of the mind, such as memory, thoughts, or emotions. However, we can feel as though the witness has subtler functions, such as higher desires, intuition, the ability to bring forth creation, the ability to make creation behave in certain ways, or the ability to possess other special powers. But when we look closely, we see that these functions are properties of the mind. We assign these properties to the witness because when we start out in inquiry, the witness can seem like a bigger and better version of the mind. We tend to think of the witness as a super-mind with superhero-like qualities.
However, witnessing awareness has no attributes, as depicted by Shiva in the vivid imagery of the Mahavidyas. All of his attributes are depicted by Shakti. She symbolizes the entire spectrum of dynamic attributes—the gross and the subtle, the mundane and the spiritual, the depraved and the exalted. He is the attribute-less witness, and she is everything that arises in him. Shiva is the ocean, and Shakti, the waves that arise and subside in it. Ultimately, they are not separate. However, when we arrive at this conclusion of non-separateness without systematic inquiry, we are left with misunderstandings and misconceptions. Non-separateness of arisings from awareness makes sense only after we see that awareness has no properties.
The assignment of properties to the witness is a common predicament on the spiritual path—in our eagerness to rid ourselves of our suffering, we stop chasing material objects and start seeking subtle ones in their place. Instead of wanting to acquire money, relationships, or fame, we start wanting to acquire more of the attributes we assign to the witness. It is like moving clutter from one room of the house to another. This all-too-common dilemma is known as spiritual materialism.25
More than anything, each of us longs for completion. This is because the I-self that we identify with has an inbuilt sense of lack, which drives us to look for completion in several ways. The issues that make up our particular granthis form the basis of our seeking for completion. As we have seen in the previous chapter, our issues become subtler as we progress on the spiritual path. Our seeking for material objects can abate when we discover that they don’t bring us permanent happiness or a sense of completion. When we haven’t seen through the I-self entirely, we can innocently shift our seeking to subtler objects, such as spiritual teachings, teachers, or supernormal powers.
When the I-self’s desire for completion drives the seeking of subtle objects, we remain entrapped in the shadows of the Mahavidyas. For example, we may take up yoga classes, change the way we behave and who we associate with, and learn to speak the language of spirituality. Although the original intent for liberation was genuine, the I-self stealthily tries to find completion in the process. Our motivations for inquiry and devotion come to center around self-improvement rather than self-realization (as detailed in chapter 5). In this process, the I-self collects a different set of labels and concepts about itself. Instead of material materialists, we become spiritual materialists.
When we become spiritual materialists, we base our knowledge of liberation on what it should be. The idea of liberation becomes much more engaging than liberation itself. Our interest can become fully vested in the intellectual prowess of teachings and less on direct experience. We remain entrapped in Tara’s shadow of self-deception, where the seeking never ends. In fact, we can give up all other identities in favor of being a spiritual seeker.
Whether we are material materialists or spiritual materialists, our seeking gives rise to manipulation of arising experience. When we chase money, relationships, or fame, we believe that if we change our current experience by having more of what we think we need, we will be complete. The same belief drives us in spiritual pursuits—we continue to manipulate what is into what we think should be.
Ordinarily, we modify currently arising experience by pushing it away and thinking about something else (distraction) or blame it as the cause for our actions (slavery). For example, if we feel anxiety arising, we might try make it go away by distracting ourselves with other thoughts or blame it for snapping at our children. On the spiritual path, we collect many other techniques to deal with arisings. Now we have learned a mantra, breathing exercise, or meditation technique and apply it at the first sign of anxiety—these techniques effectively distract us from the discomfort of the anxiety. We might even be tempted to blame our vasanas for our unsavory behavior. In reality, nothing has changed with regard to modifying what is to what we think should be. Only our techniques have changed, from the material to the spiritual.
Spiritual materialism arises from wanting a better experience for the I-self, instead of seeing through it. Instead of waking up from the dream, we strive to make it a better dream. Bagalamukhi’s mace stuns the flow of the dream, silencing the expression of desires arising from the five sheaths. Her strike stills all mental modifications of what is by inducing a loss of reference to what should be.
Bagalamukhi is often worshiped to gain victory in conflict, such as war, lawsuits, and other contentious situations. In tantra, her worship is directed toward conquering a different foe—the noise of the five sheaths that keep us from realizing the Self.
In the Yoga Sutras, the yama of purity is considered an essential prerequisite for Self-knowledge. Purity can refer to many things, including cleanliness of the body, of our physical space, or of our diet and lifestyle, as well as the quality of our thoughts. Bagalamukhi’s light of purity forces us to declutter all areas of life.
If we examine the content of our blah-blah thoughts, we can find surprising clues about the areas of our lives that need decluttering. These areas include our physical environment, our time, and our relationships.
As we declutter our physical spaces, time, and relationships, we begin to understand how our mind works. When we pay close attention to the content of the blah-blah thoughts, we see the aspects of our minds that need work.
When we feel the power of Bagalamukhi’s strike of silence, we are given the incredible gift of being able to change the course of our lives and sadhana. Her strike that represents the momentary gap between choice and action has the power to recalibrate our five sheaths and rewire our brain. In the silence induced by her blow, we come to declutter our mind in several ways:
Bagalamukhi’s merciful mace stills the expression of clutter in the five sheaths and leads to radical purity. At this point, we come face-to-face with the inner guru.
Make a list of all the areas of your life that need decluttering. Devote a page in your journal to each of these areas—physical space, time, relationships, and mind. What do you hang on to in your home and living space? Why? Can you identify periods of time in your day that are wasted in non-serving activities? What relationships do you spend your time and energy on? Apply the mind decluttering activities for a few weeks and repeat the exercise.
Longing for a guru is often the hallmark of the spiritual path. We can have an intense longing for that one teacher who will look into our depths and transmit his or her knowledge, preferably instantaneously. When we find the guru, we can become entirely dependent upon him or her. While devotion and service to the guru are essential for the spiritual path, Bagalamukhi’s shadow of spiritual materialism can lead to confusion of our motivations.
Instead of opening to the truth that the guru embodies, devotion and service to him or her can become the primary goal of the spiritual path. Our validation-seeking I-self finds yet another avenue for self-improvement, such as in gaining the guru’s approval, moving up the ranks of the spiritual circle, being respected by others in the circle, and so on. In the shadow of this spiritual materialism, Self-knowledge remains elusive. We can acquire the language of Self-knowledge, become adept at scripture, and even impart these teachings to others without Self-knowledge becoming actualized.
Bagalamukhi’s mace shatters the shadows of the previous Mahavidyas. The absolute silence induced by it destroys the labels and concepts that the I-self is made of. When this happens, we no longer depend on teachers or teachings even though we hold them in our highest regard. Realizing the truth that our gurus embody becomes our way of worshiping them. Our personal agendas in the guru-disciple relationship dissolve in the recognition of the Self in both.
When we look back at our spiritual path from this vantage point, we realize that all external gurus were manifested by the inner guru—the Self. We see that our life has been orchestrated flawlessly to bring us to the teachers and teachings that were necessary at each point. We recognize that everyone that we have ever interacted with was a guru who taught us a valuable lesson even though we didn’t recognize it at the time. We realize that our life is and has always been a constant stream of miracles.
Bagalamukhi’s grace leads us to recognize the voice of the inner guru, who speaks in absolute silence. Our loyalties shift dramatically with this recognition. While the previous practices of bhakti, jnana, and karma yoga were directed toward an external ideal, guru, or teaching, they are now dedicated to this inner guru.
In every moment, we pause to listen to Bagalamukhi’s silence—how is the guru within served in this moment? Through steadfast devotion to this silence, our thoughts and actions become purified of the self-serving I-self. Blah-blah thoughts diminish and are eventually eliminated. Our actions arise from the intent of serving the inner guru, the Self that binds the whole. We pour our jealousies, our comparisons, our judgments, and all dualities arising from the vasana-bound I-self into the service of the pristine inner guru. Inner silence becomes the way of life, permeating the three states of waking, dream, and deep sleep.
In the silence induced by Bagalamukhi, we look for the I-self in direct experience, and it cannot be found. Without continuous reference to the “I,” we fall into the great unknown. Finally ripped from the should be that arises from reference to the past and the future, we open to what is. The triad of experiencer-experience-experienced is replaced by experiencing. In perception, there is only perceiving. Even when blah-blah thoughts come up, they are seen to be what they are—waves of the ocean. They are no longer believed. Subtle strategies and agendas for self-improvement fall away as the witness is no longer seen to have subtle properties. We no longer feel as though we have special powers endowed by our sadhana in comparison with others. We stop seeking subtle possessions and surrender to the process of unlearning. In this direct seeing, there is absolute unknowing and absolute freedom. The endless falling into the unknown of what is is true worship in tantra. In Bagalamukhi’s golden radiance, we stop accumulating knowledge. Her light of purity grants us the greatest gift of unlearning—innocence.
Exercise: Moving from Shadow to Light—Cultivating Purity
Samyama is an advanced practice that brings together the last three limbs of yoga as elucidated in the Yoga Sutras: dharana (concentration), dhyana (meditation), and samadhi (absorption). Samyama is a practice that shines the light of awareness upon objects of perception, revealing their true nature. It escalates one to higher and higher levels of non-attachment and discernment, opening to prajna (wisdom). A certain degree of inner silence is required for samyama to be effective. Thus, a daily meditation practice is essential to cultivating the stillness needed for samyama. The following samyama practice is adapted with permission from Advanced Yoga Practices and utilizes nine sutras (words or phrases) that encompass the broad scope of knowledge: love, radiance, unity, health, strength, abundance, wisdom, inner sensuality, and akasha (lightness of air).26 As our practice progresses, the meaning of each opens us to Self-knowledge.
Exercise: Non-Dual Inquiry on Bagalamukhi’s Role in Creation—The Silent Witness
This non-dual inquiry exercise deconstructs the subtle aspects of desire and causality that we assign to witnessing awareness. Often, we assign superhuman qualities to the witness, such as the ability to cause arisings—in direct experience, we will see that the witness has no inbuilt attributes. Begin with the Heart Opener (chapter 2). You are standing as witnessing awareness.
In this inquiry, we see that desire arises in witnessing awareness, stays a while, and subsides in it. Awareness has no inbuilt desire for the world or universe to be any particular way.
Now let us examine causality, which tends to be a deep-rooted issue for most of us. We can feel as though awareness arises from something else or that it causes arisings. We will examine both of these issues. Begin with the Heart Opener.
In this inquiry, we see that there cannot be a cause for awareness because any knowledge of this must happen in awareness. We see that our notion of causation of awareness is itself an arising in it.
In this inquiry, we look for a causal link between awareness and arisings, and can’t find one, except as an arising itself. In our direct experience, witnessing awareness has no attributes of desire or causality. Here, the symbolism of the Mahavidyas begins to make sense—Shiva is still witnessing awareness without attributes, while Shakti takes the shape of all arisings, including the desire and causality that we assign to him.
In the radiant silence evoked by Bagalamukhi’s mace, we come to recognize the guru within and relinquish all remnants of materialism. Her sadhana brings us to the point of free fall, where every experience, memory, concept, and idea is known to be an arising in witnessing awareness. When we can drop into what is, we open to our own vulnerability of not knowing what should be. The more we let go into the insecurity of not knowing, the more secure it begins to feel. Finally freed of what should be, we come to see that all of our shadows, our life circumstances, our past, and our yearnings are infused with the beauty of the Self. Our life becomes magical, infused by Bagalamukhi’s radiant silence.