Myth and Mythos
Put some people together and you have nothing more than a group of people. What can bond them into something more than a collection of individuals is not, as some people believe, due to a bloodline. Rather, people bond as a result of a common set of experiences and beliefs. These experiences can be contemporary or they may be modern versions of stories (often highly altered) about events that were said to have occurred in the past, sometimes eons ago. The bonds created by the common experiences of platoon members during war are often stronger than the ties of brothers and sisters. The life-threatening nature of war experiences can make those bonds even tighter.
When spiritual groups first start out, they frequently have such bonding based on common experience. In recent times, the story of the birth of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (commonly known as the Mormons) was just such a bonding experience. It begins with a far-sighted leader who supposedly has a revelation from God. He is killed and his people, fleeing religious persecution, face incredible difficulties as they travel across a vast land. When they finally find a place to stay, a natural disaster seems like it will wipe them out. But they are saved by a miracle. By joining that church, you become part of the continuation of those experiences and the resulting beliefs, attitudes, and values.
I am not going to debate whether those events happened as described. What has happened is that members of that religion believe the story. Usually such stories become exaggerated over time. The historical becomes the mythic. The mythic becomes the mythos.
What is a mythos? It is an interrelated set of myths and beliefs that manifest in the group’s values and attitudes. Let me explain further. Virtually every culture or group has a mythos. Often, the attitudes and values of the mythos are reflected in a people’s arts—painting, theater, sculpture, music, etc. Myths are not merely stories; they have impactful meanings to the people who believe them or simply know them. They, too, exemplify the temperament, beliefs, and principles of that people. The myths/art and the associated attitudes/values combine to make the mythos of a people.
Jews, Christians, Buddhists, and Muslims all have their myths and mythos structures. Mystical groups, from Rosicrucians to Golden Dawners, from Thelemites to the numerous sects of Witchcraft, from Freemasons to, well, you name it, each have their myths and mythos. You might take some time to consider this: What myths do you follow? What mythos do you accept?
Hinduism is replete with myths and stories about gods and goddesses and their interaction with humans. Some, such as in the epic Mahabharata (of which the famous Bhagavad Gita is but a tiny part), are extensive. Others are short stories that illuminate a single facet of life. Generally speaking, all are considered acceptable to Hindus, even when the myth is not part of the religious or spiritual tradition followed by a particular person.
In the West, our myths have been far more straightforward. They do not deal with hundreds of deities, or at least not with so many deities simultaneously. The great myths of Homer, the Jewish Bible, and the Christian Bible are each linear and tell a more or less complete story.
One of the intentions of this book is to explore the nature of traditional Tantra as a complete Pagan system that can be followed, in whole or in part, by Westerners today. Therefore, it, too, must present a linear myth and mythos. Such a myth does exist. It is a glue that holds together several Tantric groups. It is the mythos that, in various forms, presents the paradigm that allows initiates to say, “This is Tantric; that is not.”
Unlike most other spiritual groups, the Tantrics of NAMASTE acknowledge that the myth I am about to share is just that: a myth. Other groups, such as AMOOKOS, have described a similar story, but limit it to a paragraph or two. The myth that follows, admittedly and unashamedly, is an expansion and amplification of the shorter stories.
Even so, there may be valid historical aspects to this myth. For example, documents from AMOOKOS reveal that satellite photos indicate an ancient civilization existed in the area now called the Gobi Desert, the supposed location of the valley of Ananda-La. But it would be too expensive to have an archeological dig in the middle of that desert, so it has never been excavated.
Whether or not a civilization like that of Ananda-La ever existed on what is now the Gobi Desert is irrelevant. What is important is that this story—this myth—explains why Tantrics are the way they are and why non-Tantrics are the way they are. It is the living mythos of Modern Tantra.
Just as the Kabalah, being kept by the Jews for thousands of years, has Jewish aspects to it, so, too, does Tantra, as presented here, have many Hindu aspects to it. Some readers may be surprised that the numerous gods and goddesses of Hinduism play little part in the following myth. There is a good reason for this.
Hinduism has been called a monotheistic religion with thousands of deities. The ultimate deity is Brahman, “all that ever was and all that will ever be.” (Brahman was originally pronounced “Brach-mahn,” with the “ch” being a guttural like the German in the word ach. It is now generally pronounced “Brahm-ahn” and shouldn’t be confused with Brahma, the Hindu creator deity.) The correct pronoun when speaking of Brahman is “it,” because by calling it “him” or “her,” we are giving Brahman qualities that are limiting. Brahman manifests in numerous forms, including the male triad (Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva) and their many female counterparts, including the Mahavidyas; forms of Shiva and Shakti (including Kali, Durga, Lakshmi, and Parvati); and other deities such as Ganesha. Each deity has his or her own meaning and purpose. Thousands of books have been written about them. Chapter Four explores and explains in greater detail deities linked to traditional Tantra.
But the present book is not primarily about the play of the gods and goddesses, although some aspects will be covered later. Rather, it is about how you, the reader, can become a Tantric, part of the growing family of contemporary yet traditional Tantrics around the world. Thus, the myth that follows is about people and their interplay, not about gods, goddesses, and their relationships with humans.
Yes, the story that follows is a myth. Its value is that it identifies the mythos, the pattern of basic values and attitudes of many Tantrics, including those who follow the living system that is Modern Tantra.
Preface: Creation
In the beginning, there was naught. There was no time. There was no space. There was no lack of time. There was no unspace. There was no order. There was no chaos. There was no wet. There was no dry. There was no hot. There was no cold. There was no above. There was no below. There was no in. There was no out. There was no left. There was no right. There was no war. There was no peace. There was no hate. There was no love. There was nothing: no thing.
And unbidden, from within the nothing, came a stir, a throb, a vibrant pulsation. And thus it was that love was born. But it was not the love that people have for another person or thing. Nor was it the “love for all” that so many today claim to profess. For this love was an energy, pure beyond belief, pure beyond understanding, pure beyond comprehension. It was from no one and it was directed to no one nor to any thing. Yet it was, and is, the source and foundation of all love in the physical and non-physical universe.
And it came to pass that within the nothing the pulsation of love experienced a reflection of itself. The physical universe functions with opposites, and this reflection was the polar opposite of the pulsation of love. And the opposite of love is not hate, but an absence of that love energy. And so it was that the pulsation of love came to consist of a flowing, an outpouring, a smooth transition from love to not love and back to love again. And lo! So was born anandalahari (“ah-nahn-dah-lah-hah-ree”), the “wave of bliss” (see illustration).
And so it was that the anandalahari started everywhere and nowhere and went to the ends of the universe. But there was no way to express the energy of love nor to receive the energy of love. So the energy of the wave began to rest at the points where it would change direction, forming the samatribhujananda (“sahm-ah-tree-boo-juh-nahn-da”), the “triangle of bliss” (see illustration).
Anandalahari
And it came to pass that rather than smoothly flowing in waves, the energy of love began to move directly from point-of-power to point-of-power to point-of-power, following and forming the path of least resistance. And thus there came to be formed the cosmic yoni, perfect in its perfection, without flaw or blemish (see illustration). And the cosmic yoni, formed as it is of perfect love-beyond-love, was a pathway from the infinite not to the infinite is. And so it was that from the nothing came love and from love came the Divine, ready to manifest.
The Divine wanted—needed!—to share its source, its love. But there was nothing to share with. So the Divine manifested Brahma, the creator. And Brahma was bursting to tell of his love, but there was no air for the vibration to sound. So Brahma was content to make a soundless sound, the source of all sound, nada brahma. And from this was born his consort, Saraswati. But she longed to hear Brahma’s love for her, so through her yoni she gave birth to air.
Together they lived in a beautiful world. Brahma rode on a magical white swan (hamsa) that could derive spiritual beauty from the world around it. Saraswati, goddess of learning and knowledge, she who created the letters of the alphabet, loved to hear Brahma recite his love for her. Thus was born mantra. And the mantra must be repeated over and over, for it would only last for the time it took to be sounded. Thus was born japa, the repetition of mantra. But it was not only mantra that would not last. Indeed, nothing would last.
And the Divine was sad that nothing would last, and so, through the energy created by the union of Brahma and Saraswati, and by way of the cosmic yoni, there was created Vishnu, the preserver. Vishnu lies on an ocean of milk, and his dreams keep in manifestation that which Brahma created. To keep Vishnu alert came Lakshmi, his consort, who massages Vishnu’s legs. Vishnu preserves, but without Lakshmi he can do nothing. She brings good fortune.
The sound of Brahma is fleeting, so the vibrations of the sounds created physical signs, yantras. And lo! The mantras are deity in the form of sound. And lo! Yantras are deity in physical, two-dimensional form. Be not confused by those who say they are but symbols or mere representations, for the true mantra and the true yantra are as much of the Divine—more!—than are any of the other images of the gods.
And from the joyful couplings of Brahma and Saraswati and of Vishnu and Lakshmi have all the people, places, and things of all the sheaths of the universe been formed. But it came to pass that there was too much.
And so, as a product of the couplings of the divine couples, the cosmic yoni brought forth and into being Shiva, the transformer, and Shakti, the energy that empowers Shiva. And with them came time. And with time came the passing of physical life. The three deities (Trimurti, pronounced “try-mur-tee”) and their consorts created all life from the non-physical, maintained it, and transformed it back into the non-physical. All are vital for a healthy universe. To deny one is to deny all. To honor one is to honor all. Shiva is Brahma is Lakshmi is Saraswati is Shakti is Vishnu. And all are Brahman.
With time came multiple forms. Shakti was also seen as Kali, she who brings death, and Kali Ma, the mother of us all. Vishnu was also seen as dark-skinned Krishna, player of the flute and lover of the many milkmaids; lo, he is honored for his virility.
Thus was the coming of the gods, time, space, air, water, earth, the plants, and the animals. Thus was the coming of men and women.
Part I: Ananda-La—
the Source of Wisdom
It was a time before time, when the rivers were cool and the water sweet, the air smelled of fragrant flowers and herbs unknown today, and the tiger and crane, lion and wolf, were yet young. And it came to pass that one species of animal, the humans, began to become self-aware. They learned that they were not the same as other animals or even other humans. They joined with others of their kind for protection and for procreation, forming clans. Sometimes they had a hard life. Sometimes things went more easily.
Most of the clans were nomadic. They would go where the weather was gentle and the fruitfulness of the land was great. One such clan, the Laced Triangles clan, seeking escape from a particularly harsh and snowy winter, pushed north through a narrow mountain pass. There they found an enormous mountain-encircled valley, a valley so big it contained its own hills and valleys.
And the weather in the valley, protected by the giant mountains, was mild and the trees were bent over with delicious fruit. The clan head, Anandanath (“Uh-nahn-dah-naht”), and his wife and clan co-head, Parvatikalidevi (“Pahr-
vaht-ee-kahl-ee-dehv-ee”), decided that it was time for a change. “From this day forth, this is our land,” Anandanath said. “From this day forth, we are no longer clan heads, we are the king and queen of this land. And it shall be known as the land of Ananda-La [“Uh-nahn-dah Lah”].”
And so it was that the Laced Triangles clan settled into the enormous valley of Ananda-La. The mountains that surrounded the valley not only brought it a temperate climate but also helped protect it from enemies. Ananda-La was so big that it was blessed with smaller but highly fertile valleys, fish-filled rivers, and a wide variety of natural vegetation. Crops grew easily, and the flocks of sheep and goats, cattle and camel, were as numerous as the stars of the clear night skies. The once-nomadic clan grew into a large civilization, developing writing, art, theater, music, architecture, education, philosophy, ethics, agriculture, healing techniques, astronomy, mathematics, and many more aspects of an advanced society.
The people of that time were over seven feet tall and their natural lifespan was many hundreds of years. It was not uncommon for men and women to have the pleasure of playing with their great-great-great-grandchildren. Their houses were simple, as the weather was mild, the most deluxe being large, surprisingly elegant yurts. The graciousness of Brahman allowed the people of Ananda-La plenty of time for pleasure, and often they would dance around the bonfires and make love late into the night.
The government of Ananda-La was simple. First came the rulers, a king and queen who made the laws, and their advisors. Next came the judges who enforced the laws. Finally, there were the appellates, who made sure the judges acted fairly and there was not even the slightest sign of corruption. To be a judge or an appellate was a great honor, and each adult citizen of Ananda-La was expected to serve as one or the other for a period of five years.
The appellates never had to look at the actions of the rulers, for as long as people could remember, their leaders had been wise, kind, just, fair, artistic, and clever. In honor of the founders and first rulers of Ananda-La, each king took the name Anandanath and each queen took the name Parvatikalidevi. As part of their tradition, they kept large numbers of soldiers in the major passes that led into Ananda-La. This show of force prevented any invasion. As a result, Ananda-La had been at peace with its neighbors for as long as anyone could remember, and that, dear reader, was a very, very long time.
The population of Ananda-La grew, and with the gifts of education and physical health, the civilization prospered. Different people thought of different ways to improve life in Ananda-La, sometimes getting into strong disagreements over how the country should evolve. In every generation it was the duty of the wise King Anandanath (who could not rule without the agreement and consent of his consort, Queen Parvatikalidevi) to always seek a balanced middle path. When people simply could not find a way to agree, the king and queen would grant one of the opponents a new area to live. The valley was so large that even after many centuries of peace and growth there was more than enough room for all. Since the people had no spiritual, emotional, or physical ties to any particular area of land (other than Ananda-La in general), the policy of granting a distant property to prevent disagreement was an accepted practice. The result was that the people of Ananda-La had a great deal of diversity of thought. The schools were filled with people of all ages. This diversity, tempered by the wisdom of the rulers, helped to make Ananda-La vibrant and strong.
In the time just before the Great Change, the royal couple had a son and a daughter. The first was born in what today would be called early April. She was a wild child, always experimenting with boundaries and wanting to know how things worked. Her favorite questions were “Why?” and “How?” Both Anandanath and Parvatikalidevi, as well as the daughter’s teachers, would patiently answer her questions. And she was named Schambhaladevi (“Sham-ball-uh-dehv-ee”).
The next year, during the time that would today be called early May, their son was born. He was the opposite of Schambhaladevi. He was not interested in the whys and hows, he just wanted to know what to do. Where Schambhaladevi would toss her toys around, he would line them up and see if he could move them while keeping them in order. And he was given the name Agarthinath (“Uh-gar-tee-naht”).
Like the other children of Ananda-La, Schambhaladevi and Agarthinath grew up strong and educated. Schambhaladevi often spoke with the scholars. They would bob their heads over her uncannily intuitive understanding of everything from physics to philosophy. Agarthinath was more at home with the workers, and frequently designed devices that could make their labors easier and safer. Both were beloved of the people.
Part II: The Coming of “That One”
When a country is as happy and prosperous as Ananda-La, it is inevitable that it will become the target of those who are envious, hateful, and less prosperous. To prevent an invasion and destruction of the country, some scientists and wizards created a weapon that would destroy everything from where it was placed to beyond the end of sight. They believed it would make even thinking about attacking Ananda-La out of the question. It was this weapon, known as Shivanayanajala (“Shee-vuh-nai-ya-nah-jal-ah”), that resulted in the Great Change.
Wars, up to this time, had been based on the idea of small or large numbers of soldiers fighting other small or large groups of soldiers. But what do you do about one angry person? To this day it is forbidden to speak his name, and those who speak of him refer to him only as “That One.”
And it came to pass that a single man with a donkey came to do business in the largest marketplace of Ananda-La. “Fine grain!” he shouted, as he moved toward the market. Finally, he found someone to buy all of his bags of grain. “You have made a good deal,” That One told the buyer.
As That One hurriedly left the market with his money, the purchaser looked in the bags of grain. In the bag he had inspected there was, indeed, fine grain. But the others merely had grain at the top of the bag. As he dug through he found that beneath the grain was straw and dirt. “I have been cheated!” he shouted. Citizens, proud of their country and their laws, came out of their homes and businesses. They quickly captured That One, and he was brought before the judges.
And it came to pass that the judges convicted That One of trying to cheat at commerce. His sentence: a year in prison. “I am innocent,” he said. “I did not do this.” As a result of his protestations of innocence, his case was given to the appellates. They, too, found him guilty. For his false protestations he was sentenced to an additional year in prison.
“I am innocent,” he said again. “I did not do this.” His claim led to a judicial hearing before the king and queen. After hearing and seeing the evidence, the queen reminded the king of a minor law. The king nodded and said there was one thing that neither the judges nor the appellates had considered: That One was not a citizen of Ananda-La. The king and queen conferred again, then the king, making a just ruling for the victim, and to protect the people of Ananda-La, said, “Here is our judgment. You shall repay the man whom you tried to cheat. In payment for the time and effort of the judges and appellates, you shall forfeit the good bag of grain and your donkey. And you are exiled from Ananda-La for life.”
And it came to pass that four judges took That One to the border. Along the way they did wrongly smite That One with their hands and staves. And when they neared the pass in the mountain rim of Ananda-La, they stripped him naked and drove him past the soldiers guarding the border by throwing rocks at him. The soldiers laughed at That One in his torment. “I shall have my revenge!” shouted That One.
And in the generations to come, the teachers would explain that sometimes, when a person does wrong, rather than feel ashamed and contrite, he or she becomes filled with anger and rage toward those who discovered the wrong. Filled with such emotions and enraged by his wrongful suffering and humiliation in front of the soldiers, That One spent years seeking a means to achieve his revenge. It was not until he was old and gray that he learned of the Shivanayanajala device. “My revenge is at hand!” he cried.
And it came to pass that That One returned through a pass in the mountains surrounding Ananda-La that was so small, so rock-filled, and so narrow that it was left unprotected. Because he was old and gray, nobody recognized him and he was able to slip into crowds and talk with people at the fairs and markets. Although the people who had created the Shivanayanajala device tried to keep its location secret, a secret shared never remains a secret. So it came to pass that That One discovered its hiding place. His rage, building for decades, emboldened and sent the strength of youth through his aged body. He slew two unsuspecting guards. “Finally, vengeance is mine!” he cried, as he moved toward the giant device. Suddenly, pain filled his chest. That One looked down and saw the head of a spear bursting from between his ribs. He had not known of a third guard. The third guard had come up behind That One and thrust so hard with a spear that it went through That One’s back and came out the front.
And so it was that That One died. But neither pain nor imminent death would stop his enormous rage, and with his last breath did he stumble forward and trigger the Shivanayanajala device by using the techniques he had bribed others to teach him. His hatred and desire for revenge so consumed him that even in death he was willing to destroy so much and so many.
And the Shivanayanajala device was incredibly powerful. But it was not like the destructive devices of today. It required over twenty-one weeks to actually build up to a destructive peak. A device that, once triggered, takes weeks before it explodes may seem odd to the people of today. But to the people of Ananda-La, who lived hundreds of years, a few weeks pass as do a few minutes today.
The Shivanayanajala device was very large and could only be moved with great effort.
However, once it was triggered it automatically sealed and could not be disarmed. It drove large, spiraling poles deep into the ground, taking movement of the device that was formerly difficult into the realm of impossibility. When what That One had done was discovered, and it was realized that there was no way to reverse the build-up of the device, the queen sent word to all parts of the land: for the people, culture, and tradition of Ananda-La to survive, it was time to leave their homes.
And lo, there was much wailing and crying. Even though they felt no allegiance to any particular location in Ananda-La, they loved the beauty and majesty of their land. They had also traded their fine goods with many other peoples and learned from them of the harshness outside their valley. Now, gone would be their homes. Gone would be their possessions. Gone would be the clever items that made their lives easier than those in the areas outside of Ananda-La. Everything would be gone.
But the people of Ananda-La were pragmatic. For their culture to survive, they must escape the sure death and destruction of the Shivanayanajala device. The king and queen called their children for a conference. “Princess Schambhaladevi and Prince Agarthinath, long have you been the voice of youth in Ananda-La. You are honored, loved, and respected by the people,” said the king.
The queen continued, “For our people to survive, they need the fire of youth and energy.”
The king took her hand. “Your mother and I are over 250 years old,” he said. “We no longer have that energy. We are the past. Besides, we love this land. We are Ananda-La.”
The queen looked at her children with a loving smile. “We will not leave.” The prince and princess protested, but the queen held up her hand to silence them. “Our decision is final. Now you must lead the people of Ananda-La to safety.”
And many tears were shed, but eventually all came to see the wisdom of the king and queen.
And it came to pass that most of the people prepared to leave, led by Princess Schambhaladevi and Prince Agarthinath. Most of the people over 200 years of age decided to stay in Ananda-La, as did some of the younger people who could not bear to leave their beautiful land.
But before the people left, there was time for one last thing, a final ritual. As per tradition, Schambhaladevi was given the name Parvatikalidevi and Agarthinath was given the name Anandanath. Thus, they became the new rulers of the people of Ananda-La.
And lo, there was much talking among the people. For previous to this time, only a husband and wife took the names of the rulers. The new King Anandanath put his arm around the new Queen Parvatikalidevi and told his people that new times would require new traditions. However, there was no further time to talk of this,
he said, for the exodus must begin as soon as possible.
The people of Ananda-La had been great investigators of the physical world. One of the things they had discovered was that there was a vast system of caves under the mountains, today called the Himalayas, which formed part of the rim of their valley. It took 146 days for all the people to reach the safety of the caves. And it was not too soon. Less than a day later, the device went off. For fourteen days, the night was turned to day. A great foehn swept across the land and onto the mountains, resulting in countless snow slides. And then, for an additional fortnight, the temperature outside the caves seemed to be that of the sun. In spite of the heat, the days became as black as night; darker, as neither the sun nor moon nor stars could be seen through the ash and dust that filled the sky.
Part III: Under the Himalayas
And it came to pass that the darkness did last for six years. And after the constant external darkness ceased, the heat did last for yet another seven years. And lo, it was yet twenty more years ere the temperature returned to normal. And it took three more years before anything would grow under the sun.
It is said that the secrets of how to make the Shivanayanajala device are still known by some Tantric adepts in a secret order, but they have vowed to give their lives before making one or telling how one could be made to someone who was not part of their order.
Within the caves under the Himalayas the temperature stayed constant and comfortable for the survivors of the Shivanayanajala device. Safe from the heat and the unstable conditions outside the caves, they were able to use torches to provide light enough for their meager crops and small herds. There was not a great deal for everyone, but with sharing, trust, and work, all could survive. Within a few years they were even starting to improve on their personal comforts. But as life beneath the Himalayas improved, a new problem arose.
For a large, thriving society with lots of room, such as that of Ananda-La, diversity of thought and deed makes for a culture that is strong and vibrant. But if you take those strong, independent people and put them in a small, walled-in situation, such as was the case under the Himalayas, such diversity leads to divisiveness. At first, everyone worked together to make sure all could survive and to rebuild their society. But once a level of stability had been established, the disagreements of the people came to the fore. How were the survivors of Ananda-La to think, act, believe? When large fights began to break out, the queen and king knew they must act for the survival of their people.
The previous several years had been most difficult for King Anandanath. Although he loved his sister, he did not love her as a wife. As beautiful as she was, he found the notion of sex with his sister to be improper and distasteful. She, on the other hand, saw their importance as symbols for their people. She loved her handsome brother, and for years was distressed that he would not make them king and queen in actuality—producing princes and princesses—as well as in name. Now, the violence among their people presented a new responsibility and tasks that they knew they had to accept and resolve.
And it came to pass that the brother and sister rulers called a mass meeting of all the people. They met in the enormous common hall, the largest cavern under the mountains. It was big enough to hold most of the surviving population of Ananda-La. There, Anandanath and Parvatikalidevi each stood up and shared what they believed. They were kin. They would always be united. But they were also individuals with different ways of thinking and acting, which mirrored the thoughts and beliefs of the people. Rather than being one united group, they would divide into two. The people should decide which side they would follow.
And it came to pass that by the time the day was over, the people had chosen sides. They had divided the caverns into two sections, with the large cavern they were in, now called Anandavishnu-La (“Uh-nahn-duh-veesh-new-lah”), being the one place of meeting shared between the two sides. The separate sections, in honor of the names of their king and queen when they were prince and princess, were called Schambhala-La and Agarthi-La. The entire complex was named Sangara-La (“Song-gahr-uh-lah”).
Parvatikalidevi and Anandanath, like many of the rest of the people in the caves, hugged and kissed and cried. Then they led the divided
people into the two separate sections of the caves. For many, the destruction of Ananda-La was called the Great Change. But the truth was that it was this moment that marked the real Great Change. For in truth, a country is more than land. It is actually the sum total of its people. And as of this moment, the people were divided. The spirit of Ananda-La had survived the effects of the Shivanayanajala device, but it could not survive the basic nature of the people. Ananda-La was no more.
Part IV: The Departure
from Sangara-La
And it came to pass that the people of Sangara-La not only survived, but thrived under controlled conditions. Joy was expressed over new births and sorrow was expressed over the passing of loved ones. The new children grew up to be shorter in stature and lived shorter lives.
And the sadness was great between Anandanath and Parvatikalidevi. For although they loved each other in different ways, they still loved one another. Now they barely saw each other. They grew old separately. Although each had lovers and consorts, neither married. Neither had children. But they made sure that their people were safe and healthy.
And sixteen more years came and went. The citizens of both Schambhala-La and Agarthi-La had made forays outside the caves and longed, once again, for the sun on their faces and the sweet smell of fresh air. But the king and queen resisted this. They knew that when they left the caves, they would have to lead their peoples in different directions. They knew they would never see each other again. This they did not want.
And it came to pass in the fifty-sixth year of their lives under the Himalayas that the crops did not grow. And lo, there was much sorrow. For fifty-six years, there was safety and limited comfort. But the king and queen realized that there was now no choice. The people had to leave their isolation and protection.
But the brother and sister could not bear to leave each other. And so it was determined that they would stay and the people of Sangara-La would leave under the guidance of their judges, who henceforth would be known as “chieftains.”
And there was great rejoicing and great sorrow. But within a week, only Anandanath and Parvatikalidevi, as well as their retinues, were left in the caves. For decades, people would come seeking the mystics of the mountains for their wisdom. That wisdom became legendary. It was said that they lived to be 324 years old, but their bodies were never found. People still seek them and their wisdom today, journeying to the Himalaya Mountains. With their passing, Sangara-La, as Ananda-La before it, became only a memory and the stuff of which legends are made.
The chieftains initially led their tribes back to the location of their ancestral home, what had been the valley of Ananda-La. But the Shivanayanajala device had worked all too well. The land that had been so beautiful and fertile was now nothing but sand. The rivers that had once flowed through the land and been filled with fish were gone. The mountains that had surrounded and protected the valley were now nothing more than wind-swept dunes. For a month they encamped in what was now a bleak desert. And the people wept, for even those who did not remember the beauty of Ananda-La had heard stories of its magnificence.
And during the month the chieftains met in a central encampment. The chieftains represented all of the various beliefs of the people. Knowing they could not survive as a large group in this desert, they made a momentous decision.
And it came to pass that the chieftains each led their tribe in a different direction. They went to lands now known as India and China, Japan and Tibet, Europe and Africa, as well as the Middle East and places in between and beyond. Everywhere they went, they left their language, their sciences, their arts and philosophies, their spirituality and their hopes, their desires and their dreams.
Schambhala-La and Agarthi-La are no more. Ananda-La and Sangara-La are no more. But the beliefs and traditions of those people became the source of Hinduism and Buddhism and their Tantric variations, and they influenced the sciences, arts, philosophy, and spirituality of people all over the world. They live on even today.
The Mythos
It is important to understand that the myth of Ananda-La does not take sides, nor does it imply that the philosophy of Schambhala-La is better or worse than that which was practiced in Agarthi-La. Different people need different things at different times in their lives. Not to have the appropriate philosophy and teachings available would hurt a person who needs them. It’s good that both are available.
Be that as it may, it is the philosophy and beliefs of the people of Schambhala-La that are of most interest to us here. They are, mythically, the precursors of Tantra. To understand those beliefs, it may be easiest to compare and contrast the beliefs of Schambhala-La and Agarthi-La. Again, however, I want to emphasize that neither is a better set of beliefs. They are merely different, and each is appropriate for the person who needs it.
Scientific Method vs. Superstition
“Don’t walk under a ladder. It’s bad luck.” We’ve all heard that numerous times. When we were children, we may have asked that most important of questions: “Why?” The answer probably fell into one of two major categories, the pseudo-scientific (somebody on the ladder might spill something on you or you might bump the ladder and knock somebody off) or the traditional (it’s been passed down for generations as being bad luck).
Perhaps, like me, you found those answers unsatisfying. Is it okay to walk under a ladder if you can see that nobody is on it? Why has this belief been passed down for generations? Perhaps, like me, you were a natural-born Tantric. When I was young, I tested the theory by setting up a ladder and walking under it. I was nervous the first few times I went through it, but I discovered that no bad luck was associated with my transgressive act.
This is the basis of the scientific method. You start with a theory (walking under a ladder gives bad luck). Then you test it (walk under a ladder). You look at the results to see if they either support or disprove the theory.
The scientific method is also the system of Schambhala-La, the system of Tantra. Tantric rituals, in a very real sense, are scientific experiments. If they work, continue to use them. If they don’t work, either change them so they will work or simply don’t use them.
There is a story about a man who noticed that his wife cut off both ends of a roast before she cooked it. He asked her why. “That’s the way it’s done, isn’t it?” she asked. He responded that he had never seen such a thing before. “Well, that’s the way my mother did it, and she taught me to cook. I’ll see what she has to say.”
The next day the woman asked her mother about it. The mother replied, “Well, that’s the way it’s done, isn’t it?” The woman told her mother that her husband didn’t understand this and wanted to know where she learned it. Her mother said, “Well, that’s the way my mother, your grandmother, did it, and she taught me to cook. Go see what she has to say.”
The following day the woman asked her grandmother about this. The grandmother, laughing, explained, “There’s no need to cut off the ends. When your grandfather and I were young and poor and had a small child, we had only one very small pan. It was all we could afford. The only way I could get a roast to fit in it was to cut off the ends. Your mother must have seen me do this when she was a little girl, assumed that a roast must be cooked that way, and taught it to you.”
The cooking technique of the granddaughter, indeed, is a form of non-Tantric thought, a method followed by the people of Agarthi-La. Somebody did something out of necessity for her personal situation and others copied it without asking why. Over years and decades, the original reason was lost and people simply followed the superstition.
Religion vs. Spirituality
Today, in the West, most people equate religion with spirituality:
Are you spiritual?
You bet! I go to church every Sunday morning.
But spirituality is not religion. Spirituality concerns your personal relationship with the Divine, the God and Goddess, the Source of All. Religion in the West tends to consist of sets of formalized beliefs marked by structured patterns that, for many, have lost any sort of spirituality. Just as elementary schools should be places where children learn, so too should synagogues, churches, mosques, and cathedrals be places where people go to commune with the Divine. Unfortunately, it is often true that children don’t learn at school, and people are indoctrinated with fear rather than receiving spiritual succor from religious groups.
With Tantra, mythically derived from the system of the people of Schambhala-La, there is most definitely a religion, complete with deities and beliefs. However, the nature and methods of the religion involve meditation (communication with the Divine), personal responsibility, spiritual development, and self-empowerment. The religious leaders are teachers from whom followers can learn. Further, since each Tantric is expected to link with the Divine by way of any of many techniques, the experience can yield new information. That means Tantra is evolving. Among Tantrics there is the recognition that stagnation is the breeding ground of decay and death.
The people who came from Agarthi-La, people who are not Tantric, fall into organized religious structures. Rather than having teachers and scientists as their leaders, they have priests who tell them when and how to worship as well as how to think and act. The question “Why?” is either forbidden or responded to with comments that are illogical, superstitious, or a poor attempt at justification. For example, rather than meditate, they pray (one-way supposed communication with the Divine, frequently asking for something they don’t really feel they deserve).
As with all groups, there are hierarchies in both Tantric and non-Tantric groups. However, in a Tantric group people are free to move up or down the “open hierarchy” at any time. In non-Tantric groups, there is a definite pecking order, and it is quite difficult to move out of one’s caste and up through the hierarchy.
I doubt if there is any pure Tantric religious group without instances of a more fixed hierarchy. However, they tend to be far more open than non-Tantric ones. Thus, the techniques and methods of all religious groups tend to blend both Tantric and non-Tantric methods. This is good, because different people need different things. If a person needed a tight structure where he would be told how to think, act, and believe, it would be wrong to force him into a group that did not have such a non-Tantric structure. He would be lost, unhappy, and certainly no closer to having a personal relationship with the Divine.
Alternatively, a person who needs the freedom and personal responsibility inherent in Tantric religion would be lost, unhappy, and no closer to having a personal relationship with the Divine if thrust into a highly structured, non-Tantric religious group.
Both types of religious structures are needed.
Magicians vs. Priests
In the religious history associated with the time of Jesus, another figure stands large: Simon Magus. Indeed, some scholars believe that Simon Magus was so respected that some of the acts attributed to his magicks evolved into the biblical tales of miracles performed by Jesus.
Whether or not Simon Magus actually existed is not important for this discussion. What is important is to look at what happened. Specifically, any magician, as typified by Simon Magus, is a threat to power structures, including those (perhaps especially those) of controlling (non-Tantric) religious organizations.
Magicians have the ability to alter or change reality. As such, they realize that anything they do may have unforeseen side effects. They also acknowledge that they are responsible for their actions and all of the results of those actions. As soon as you realize you are free to do anything (although you must also face the consequences of your actions), you are a danger to authorities. You don’t have to obey them. You may be punished for your action, but you are still free to do it. No wonder religions that are dominated by central authorities fear magicians! If one person doesn’t have to do what the authorities say, why should anyone do what they say?
And Tantrics are magicians. A magician changes reality by using little-known techniques to alter his or her mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual environment. Tantra is not just about sex. There are also techniques of magick, some of which will be revealed later in this book.
The magickal abilities, called siddhis, result from the practices and techniques taught within Tantric schools. Throughout history, as a result of their original, freethinking ways, Tantrics have been seen as leaders. Meanwhile, the non-Tantrics have traditionally flocked to those who tell them how to act and think. This is all good, as societies need followers and leaders.
The manifestation of this dichotomy in the West is similar. Priests and ministers tell you what to think and how to act. Magicians ask you to think and to act. Which type of person is your leader? Which type of person are you? Perhaps you already are a Tantric and just didn’t know it!
Appealing vs. Intriguing
All people need things to believe in. The more closely these things represent reality, the more mentally healthy a person is said to be. Non-
Tantrics look for appealing, easy answers. Acupuncture triggers endorphins that get rid of pain. That’s simple, but it is certainly far from complete. Acupuncture can also be used to cure many diseases and ailments and help maintain health. To understand it requires a knowledge of energy paths and how to find and stimulate appropriate points along those paths. The first description is appealing because it is simple to understand. The latter is intriguing because it
implies an entire energy structure within the body that few people in the West understand. Chinese acupuncture is derived from the Tantric healing system and physiological studies combined in what is called Ayurveda (“Ay-yur-veh-duh”).
Yoga? That’s a way to stretch the body. But a Tantric realizes that what most Westerners call “yoga” is actually just one form of yoga, hatha (correctly pronounced “haw-tuh”) yoga. There are actually several types of yoga. Further, yoga not only stretches the body, it stretches the mind. It can help a person awaken power centers and energy paths within the body. Again, the first description is appealing because it is quick and easy. The latter is intriguing because it describes a complex system of energy paths and power centers.
Non-Tantrics love the appealing, easy answer. In the West, their philosophies can be fully explained on bumper stickers. Tantrics understand that the universe is not that simple. They are willing to explore more complex concepts that lead to a deeper understanding of reality.
Conclusion
One of the purposes of this chapter has been to give you an idea of what differentiates a Tantric from a non-Tantric. Tantra is not just about sex. It is about freedom, responsibility for one’s actions, and magick. It is about rejecting ideas that are no longer valid. It is about discovering if there is any value to perpetuating a superstitious belief. It is about healing and divination. It is about spiritual science. And within those topics has been the study of sexuality, including how the pleasure of sex can be enhanced and how sexual practices can lead to spiritual enlightenment. Tantrics have been studying sexuality for thousands of years. In the West, scientists have been actively studying sexuality for less than 150 years.
According to one famous text, the Mahanirvana Tantra, we live in a dark age for which the books known as the Tantras provide the best source for spiritual development. In India, time is not seen as linear, with a starting and an ending, but rather as circular, with an enormous, repeating cycle. According to another text, the Bhagavata Purana, an avatar (incarnation) of Vishnu—his last avatar—will be born in Schambhala-La (Shambhala). The birth of this avatar will mark the end of this dark age and the beginning of a golden age of enlightenment.
Of course, as I hope I’ve made very clear, the myth of Schambhala-La is just a myth. So too are the gods and goddesses (although I believe the energies they represent and their manifestations of divinity are real). How, then, can an avatar be born in Schambhala-La and mark the beginning of a new age?
Taking this story literally—being a fundamentalist—is appealing, but yields impossible questions. Where can we find this city? What will the avatar look like? What signs will indicate that the avatar has arrived?
A Tantric will look at the exact same story and come to a far more complex, a far more intriguing, conclusion. Schambhala-La doesn’t exist as a physical city. For a Tantric, the city of the myth is but a symbol of a spiritual place. It exists in the heart. It lives in the soul. It infuses those of us called to visit Schambhala-La with the potential for freedom and bliss. No matter where we are, we can make our world a dark, horrible place or we can make it light and spiritual and full of joy. The choice is ours.
If you would like to find joy in life rather than seeing only darkness, you can find many ways to do so. Modern Tantra can lead you on that path.