j'aime le shivaisme du cashemire

Reflections on the Recognition of the Lord:

One who realizes that [the powers of] knowledge (jñāna) and activity (kriyā) are but  manifestations of the svātantrya [independent power of God] and that these  manifestations are nondistinct from oneself and from the very essence of the ultimate,  whose form is the Lord (īśvararūpa)—a person [in this way] “resonating” entirely with  the awareness  that knowledge and activity are really one—whatever this person desires  he or she is certainly able to accomplish. Such a person abides in a state of complete  mystical absorption (samāveśa), even though still in a body. Such a person, while still in  the body, is not just liberated while living (jīvanmukta) but has in fact attained the ultimate realization of identity with the supreme lord (parameśvara).  
(Īśvarapratyabhijñāvimarśinī 4.1.15)


Réflexions sur la reconnaissance du Seigneur:

Celui qui se rend compte que [les pouvoirs de] connaissance (jñāna) et d'activité (kriyā) ne sont que des manifestations de la svātantrya [puissance indépendante de Dieu] et que ces manifestations ne sont pas distinctes de soi et de l'essence même de l'ultime, dont la forme est le Seigneur (īśvararūpa) - une personne [de cette manière] «résonnant» entièrement avec la conscience que la connaissance et l'activité ne font qu'un - tout ce que cette personne désire, elle est certainement capable d'accomplir. Une telle personne demeure dans un état d'absorption mystique complète (samāveśa), même si elle est toujours dans un corps. Une telle personne, alors qu'elle est encore dans le corps, n'est pas seulement libérée lorsqu'elle vit (jīvanmukta) mais a en fait atteint la réalisation ultime de l'identité avec le seigneur suprême (parameśvara).

Poèmes de Kabir


PREMIÈRE SUITE
I
Dis-moi, Frère, comment je puis renoncer à Maya.
Quand je défis le nœud de mes rubans, j’attachai encore mon vêtement autour de moi ;
Quand j’eus ôté mon vêtement, je couvris cependant mon corps de ses plis.
— Ainsi quand j’abandonne mes passions, ma colère demeure.
Et, quand je renonce à la colère, l’envie est encore en moi.
Et, quand j’ai vaincu l’envie, mon orgueil et ma vanité sont toujours là.
Quand l’esprit est libéré et qu’il a chassé Maya, il reste attaché à la lettre.
Kabir dit : « Écoute-moi, cher Sadhu, le vrai sentier est difficile à trouver. »
II
La lune brille au dedans de moi ; mais mes yeux aveugles ne peuvent la voir.
Elle est en moi ainsi que le soleil.
Sans qu’on le frappe, le tambour de l’Éternité résonne au dedans de moi ; mais mes oreilles sourdes ne peuvent l’entendre.
Aussi longtemps que l’homme réclamera le Moi et le Mien, ses œuvres seront comme zéro.
Quand tout amour du Moi et du Mien sera mort, alors l’œuvre du Seigneur sera accomplie.
Car le travail n’a pas d’autre but que la connaissance.
Quand la connaissance est atteinte, le travail est laissé de côté.
La fleur s’épanouit pour le fruit ; quand le fruit mûrit, la fleur se fane.
Le cerf contient le musc, mais il ne le cherche pas en lui-même : il erre en quête d’herbe.
III
Quand Il se révèle à Lui-même, Brahma découvre l’invisible.
Comme la graine est dans la plante, comme l’ombre est dans l’arbre, comme l’espace est dans le ciel, comme une infinité de formes sont dans l’espace.
Ainsi, d’au delà de l’Infini, l’Infini vient ; et l’Infini se prolonge dans le fini :
La créature est dans Brahma et Brahma est dans la créature ; ils sont à jamais distincts et cependant à jamais unis.
Lui-même, Il est l’arbre, la graine et le germe.
Lui-même, Il est la fleur, le fruit et l’ombre.
Il est le soleil, la lumière et tout ce qui s’éclaire.
Il est Brahma, la créature et l’Illusion.
Il est la forme multiple, l’espace infini ;
Il est le souffle, la parole, la pensée.
Il est le limité et l’illimité ; et, par delà le limité et l’illimité, Il est l’Être pur.
Il est l’Esprit immanent dans Brahma et dans la créature,

— L’Âme suprême est vue en dedans de l’âme.
— Le point ultime est vu dans l’Âme suprême.
— Et, dans ce Point, les créations se reflètent encore. Kabir est béni parce qu’il a cette suprême vision.
IV
Dans le vase terrestre sont des berceaux de verdure et des bocages ; en lui est le Créateur.
Dans ce vase sont les sept Océans et les innombrables étoiles.
Le joaillier et sa pierre de touche sont dedans.
La voix de l’Éternel y retentit et fait jaillir le printemps.
Kabir dit : « Écoute-moi, mon ami ; mon Seigneur bien-aimé est dans ce vase. »
V
Oh, ce mot mystérieux, comment pourrais-je jamais le prononcer ?
Oh, comment puis-je dire : Il n’est pas comme ceci et Il est comme cela ?
Si je dis qu’il est en moi, l’Univers a honte de mes paroles ;
Si je dis qu’il est en dehors de moi, je mens.
Des mondes intérieurs et extérieurs Il fait une indivisible unité ;
Le conscient et l’inconscient sont les tabourets de ses pieds.
Il n’est ni manifesté ni caché ; Il n’est ni révélé ni irrévélé.
Il n’y a pas de mot pour dire ce qu’Il est.
VI
Tu as attiré mon cœur à Toi, ô Fakir ?
J’étais endormi dans ma chambre et Tu m’as éveillé de la voix saisissante, ô Fakir.
Je me noyais dans les profondeurs de l’Océan de ce monde et tu m’as sauvé, me soutenant de Ton bras, ô Fakir.
Un seul mot de Toi ; non pas deux — et tu as brisé tous mes liens, ô Fakir.
Kabir dit : « Tu as uni Ton cœur à mon cœur, ô Fakir. »
VII
Jadis je jouais jour et nuit avec mes camarades et maintenant j’ai peur.
Si élevé est le palais de mon Seigneur que mon cœur tremble d’y monter : pourtant je ne dois pas être craintive si je veux jouir de Son amour.
Mon cœur doit s’attacher à mon Bien-Aimé ; je dois écarter mon voile et unir tout mon être à Lui.
Mes yeux feront l’office de lampes d’amour.
Kabir dit : « Écoute, mon amie, Il comprend qui l’aime. Si tu ne languis pas d’amour pour ton Unique Bien-Aimé, il est inutile d’orner ton corps ; il est vain de mettre de l’onguent sur tes paupières. »
VIII
Dis-moi, ô Cygne, ton antique histoire.
De quel pays viens-tu, ô Cygne ? — Vers quel rivage t’envoles-tu ?
Où prendras-tu ton repos, ô Cygne, et que cherches-tu ?

Ce matin même réveille-toi, ô Cygne, lève-toi et suis-moi.
Il est un pays où ni le doute ni la tristesse n’ont d'empire ; où la terreur de la mort n’existe plus.
Là, les bois du printemps sont en fleurs et leur senteur parfumée qui dit: « Il est Moi », est portée sur la brise.
Là, l’abeille du cœur plonge profondément dans la fleur et ne désire plus d’autre joie.
IX
Ô Seigneur incréé, qui Te servira ?
Chaque fidèle adore le Dieu qu’il se crée ; chaque jour il en reçoit des faveurs.
Aucuns ne le cherchent Lui, le Parfait, Brahma, l’indivisible Seigneur.
Ils croient en dix Avatars; mais un Avatar, endurant les conséquences de ses actes, ne peut être l’Esprit infini.
L’Un Suprême doit être autre.
Les Yogi, les Sangasi, les Ascètes se disputent entre eux.
Kabir dit : « Ô frère, celui qui a vu le rayonnement de son amour, celui-là est sauvé ! »
X
La rivière et ses vagues forment une même surface : quelle est la différence entre la rivière et ses vagues ?
Quand la vague s’élève, c’est de l’eau et, quand la vague retombe, c’est toujours la même eau. Dites-moi où est la difierence.
Parce qu’on l’a nommée vague, ne sera-t-elle plus considérée comme de l’eau ?
Au sein du Suprême Brahma. les mondes apparaissent comme les grains d’un chapelet ;
Regarde ce rosaire avec les yeux de la Sagesse.
XI
Où règne le Printemps, ce Seigneur des Saisons, une musique mystérieuse se fait entendre.
Là des torrents de lumière coulent en tous sens.
Peu d’hommes peuvent atteindre à ce rivage,
où des millions de Krishnas se tiennent les mains croisées ;
où des millions de Vishnus sont prosternés ;
où des millions de Brahmanes lisent les Védas ;
où des millions de Shiva sont perdus dans la contemplation.
Là des millions d’Indra et d’innombrables demi-dieux ont le ciel pour demeure.
Là des millions de Saraswatis, déesses de la musique, jouent sur la Vina.
Là mon Seigneur se révèle à Lui-même et le parfum du santal et des fleurs flotte dans les profondeurs de l’espace.
XII
Entre les pôles du conscient et de l’inconscient, l’esprit se balance :
À cette balançoire sont suspendus tous les êtres et tous les mondes ; et cette balançoire ne cesse jamais de se balancer.
Des millions d’êtres y sont accrochés : le soleil et la lune, dans leur course, s’y balancent.
Des millions d’âges passent et toujours la balançoire se balance. Tout est balancé : le ciel et la terre et l’air et l’eau, et le Seigneur Lui-même qui se personnifie :
Et la vue de tout ceci a fait de Kabir le serviteur de son Dieu.
XIII
La lumière du soleil, de la lune et des étoiles brille d’un vif éclat : la Mélodie de l’amour monte toujours plus haut et le rythme du pur amour bat la mesure.
Jour et nuit le Chœur musical remplit les cieux ; et Kabir dit : « Mon Unique Bien-Aimé m’éblouit comme l’éclair au ciel. »

Savez-vous comment les instants disent leur adoration ?
Brandissant son cercle de lumières, l’Univers, jour et nuit, chante en adorant.
Là se cachent la bannière et les célestes lambris ;
Là le son des cloches invisibles se fait entendre ;
« Là, dit Kabir, l’adoration ne cesse jamais ; là le Seigneur de l’Univers est assis sur son trône. »
Le monde entier fait son œuvre et commet ses erreurs : mais peu nombreux sont les amoureux qui connaissent le Bien-Aimé.
Comme se mélangent les eaux du Gange et de la Jumna, ainsi se mêlent, dans le cœur du chercheur pieux, les deux courants de l’amour et du sacrifice.
Dans son cœur l’eau Sacrée s’épanche jour et nuit ; et ainsi s’achève le cycle des naissances et des morts.

Voyez quel repos merveilleux est dans l’Esprit Suprême ! Celui-là en jouit qui le cherche.
Tenu par les cordes de l’amour, la balançoire de l’Océan de joie va et vient ; et un son puissant éclate en chansons.
Voyez quel lotus fleurit là sans eau ! et Kabir dit : « L’Abeille de mon cœur boit son nectar. »

Quel merveilleux lotus est celui qui fleurit au cœur du rouet de l’Univers ! Seules quelques âmes pures en connaissent les vrais délices.
La musique résonne partout alentour et le cœur y participe à la joie de la Mer Infinie.
Kabir dit : « Plonge-toi dans cet océan de douceur et laisse s’envoler au loin toutes les erreurs de la vie et de la mort. »
Vois comme, ici, la soif des cinq sens est étanchée ; les trois formes de la misère ne sont plus.
Kabir dit : « C’est le Sport de l’Inaccessible ; regardez en dedans et voyez comme les rayons de lune du Dieu caché brillent en vous ! »

Là bat le rythme de la vie et de la mort.
Là jaillissent les ravissements. Tout l’espace est radiant de lumière.
Là, une musique mystérieuse se fait entendre. C’est la musique de l’amour des trois mondes.
Là brûlent les millions de lampes du soleil et de la lune.
Là le tambour bat et l'amoureux s’amuse sur une escarpolette.
Là les chansons amoureuses résonnent de toutes parts et la lumière pleut en ondées ; et l’adorateur goûte avec ravissement au céleste nectar.
Regardez la vie et la mort : il n’y a plus de séparation entre elles. Telles la main gauche et la main droite sont elles-mêmes et pareilles.
Kabir dit : « L’homme sage restera muet ; car cette vérité ne peut se trouver ni dans les livres ni dans les Védas. »

J’ai pris place dans l’harmonieux équilibre de l’Un.
J’ai bu la coupe de l’ineffable.
J’ai trouvé la clef du mystère.
J’ai atteint la racine de l’Union.
Voyageant sans chemin je suis arrivé au pays sans douleur ; très doucement la grâce du Grand Seigneur est descendue sur moi.
On chante le Dieu infini comme s’il était inaccessible ; mais, moi, dans mes méditations, sans mes yeux, je L’ai vu.
C’est bien le pays sans souffrances et personne ne connaît le chemin qui y mène.
Seul, celui qui est sur ce chemin est allé au delà de la région des douleurs.
Merveilleux est ce pays, dont aucun mérite ne peut être le prix.
C’est le sage qui le voit ; c’est le sage qui le chante.
Ceci est l’ultime parole ; mais comment exprimer sa merveilleuse saveur ? Celui qui l’a une fois savourée, celui-là sait quelle joie elle peut donner.
Kabir dit : « La connaissant, l’ignorant devient sage et le sage devient muet d’adoration silencieuse. »
L’adorateur est totalement enivré.
Sa sagesse et son détachement sont parfaits.
Il boit à la coupe des inspirations et des aspirations de l’amour.
Là tout le ciel s’emplit de sons et la musique se joue sans cordes et sans doigts.
Là le jeu de la joie et de la douleur ne cesse pas.
Kabir dit : « Si tu te plonges dans l’Océan de Vie, tu vivras dans le Pays de la Suprême Félicité. »

Quelle frénésie d’extase il y a dans chaque heure ! L’adorateur exprime et boit l’essence des heures. Il vit de la vie de Brahma.
Je dis la vérité, car j’ai accepté la vérité dans ma vie. Je suis à présent attaché à la vérité ; j’ai balayé loin de moi tous les faux clinquants.
Kabir dit : « Ainsi l’adorateur s’affranchit de toute crainte ; ainsi le quittent toutes pensées erronées sur la vie et sur la mort. »

Là le ciel s’emplit de musique.
Là il pleut du nectar.
Là les cordes de la harpe vibrent et les tambours battent.
Quelle secrète splendeur est là dans ce château du Ciel.
Là il n’est plus question du lever et du coucher du soleil.
Dans l’océan de révélations qu’est la lumière de l’amour, le jour et la nuit ne font qu’un.
Joie à jamais ; ni douleurs, ni luttes.
Là j’ai bu, remplie jusqu’au bord, la coupe de la joie, de la joie parfaite.
Là, il n’y a pas de place pour l’erreur.
Kabir dit : « Là, j’ai été témoin des jeux de l’Unique Félicité. »
J’ai connu en moi-même le jeu de l’Univers ; j’ai échappé à l’erreur de ce monde.
Le dedans et le dehors sont devenus pour moi un seul Ciel. L’infini et le fini se sont unis. Je suis ivre de la vue du Tout.
Ta lumière emplit l’Univers ; elle est la lampe d’amour qui brûle sur le plateau du savoir.
Kabir dit : « Là, aucune erreur ne peut entrer et le conflit de la vie avec la mort n’existe plus. »

DEUXIEME SUITE
I
Vide la coupe ! Enivre-toi ! Bois le divin nectar de Son Nom !
Kabir dit : « Écoute-moi, cher Sadhu ! Du sommet de la tête à la plante des pieds, l’homme est empoisonné par l’intelligence. »
II
Ô homme, si tu ne connais pas ton propre Seigneur, de quoi es-tu si fier ?
Renonce à toute habileté. Jamais de simples mots ne t’uniront à Lui.
Ne te laisse pas tromper par le témoignage des Écritures.
L’amour est bien différent de la lettre et celui qui en toute sincérité l’a cherché l’a trouvé.
III
La douceur de voguer sur l’océan de l’immortelle vie m’a délivré de toutes vaines questions.
Comme l’arbre est dans la graine, ainsi tous les maux sont dans les vaines demandes.
IV
Quand enfin tu as trouvé l’océan du bonheur, ne t’en va pas assoiffé.
Réveille-toi, fou que tu es ! la mort te guette. Ici est l’eau pure devant toi. Bois-la à perdre haleine.
Ne poursuis pas le mirage, mais aies soif de nectar.
Dhruva, Prahlad et Shukadeva en ont bu ; Raida en a goûté.
Les Saints sont ivres d’amour, c’est d’amour qu’ils ont soif.
Kabir dit : « Écoute, mon frère ! le repaire de la crainte est brisé ;
Pas un instant tu n’as regardé le monde face à face.
Avec la fausseté tu tisses ton esclavage ; tes paroles sont pleines de tromperie.
Avec le fardeau de désirs dont ta tête est chargée, comment pourrais-tu être léger ? »
Kabir dit encore : « Garde en toi la vérité, l’esprit de sacrifice et l’amour. »
V
Qui a appris à la veuve à laisser consumer son corps sur le bûcher de son époux défunt ?
Mais qui a appris à l’amour à trouver sa joie dans le sacrifice ?
VI
Pourquoi, mon cœur, es-tu si impatient ?
Celui qui veille sur les oiseaux, sur les bêtes et sur les insectes,
Celui qui a pris soin de toi quand tu étais encore dans le sein de ta mère
Ne te préservera-t-il plus à présent que tu en es sorti ?
Ô mon cœur, comment peux-tu te détourner du sourire de ton Dieu et errer si loin de Lui ?
Tu as abandonné ton Bien Aimé pour penser à d’autres. Voilà pourquoi ton œuvre est vaine.
VII
Comme il m’est difficile de rencontrer mon Seigneur !
L’oiselle de pluie, altérée, appelle la pluie à grands cris. Elle mourra d’attente plutôt que de boire une autre eau ;
Attirée par les sons de la musique, la biche s’approche : elle risque sa vie en les écoutant et pourtant la crainte ne la fait pas reculer.
La veuve reste assise auprès du corps de son époux ; le feu ne lui fait pas peur.
N’aie aucune crainte pour ton misérable corps.
VIII
Ô frère ! quand je m’égarais, le vrai Maître me montra la route.
Alors je laissai les rites et les cérémonies ; je ne me plongeai plus dans les eaux sacrées.
Je compris que moi seul j’étais fou ; que tout le monde autour de moi était sain d’esprit et que je scandalisais les gens sages.
Depuis ce jour, je ne me roule plus dans la poussière en signe d’obéissance ;
Je ne sonne plus la cloche du temple ;
Je ne place plus l’idole sur son trône ;
Je ne mets plus de fleurs devant les images en signe d’adoration.
Ce ne sont pas les austérités et les mortifications de la chair qui plaisent au Seigneur.
Ce n’est pas en quittant tes vêtements et en tuant tes sens que tu Lui es agréable.
L’homme qui est bon, loyal, qui demeure calme au milieu de l’agitation du Monde, qui estime autant que soi-même toutes les créatures de la Terre,
Cet homme-là atteint l’Être Immortel et le vrai Dieu est avec lui.
Kabir dit : « Celui dont les paroles sont pures et qui n’a ni orgueil ni envie connaît Son Vrai Nom. »
IX
L’ascète teint ses vêtements au lieu de teindre son âme des couleurs de l’amour.
Il reste assis dans le temple, abandonnant Brahma pour adorer une pierre.
Il se perce les oreilles ; il porte une longue barbe et des guenilles sordides ; il ressemble à un bouc.
Il marche dans le désert, tuant en lui le désir et il devient semblable à l’eunuque.
Il se tond la tête et teint ses vêtements ; il lit la Gita et devient un grand bavard.
Kabir dit : « Toi qui agis comme lui, tu vas aux portes de la mort, pieds et mains liés. »
X
Je ne sais quel est mon Dieu.
Le Mullali crie vers Lui : pourquoi ? Le Seigneur est-il sourd ? Il entend bien résonner les fines articulations d’un insecte qui marche.
Égrène ton chapelet ; peins sur ton front le chiffre de ton Dieu ; porte de longues guenilles tachées et voyantes ; si une arme de mort est dans ton cœur, comment posséderas-tu Dieu ?
XI
J’entends la mélodie de Sa flûte et je ne suis plus maître de moi.
La fleur s’épanouit sans que le printemps soit venu, et déjà l’abeille a reçu son message odorant.
Le tonnerre gronde, les éclairs brillent ; des vagues s’élèvent dans mon cœur.
La pluie tombe et mon âme languit après mon Seigneur.
Là où le rythme du monde tour à tour prend naissance et meurt, c’est là que mon cœur a atteint.
Là les bannières cachées flottent au vent.
Kabir dit : « Mon cœur se meurt de vivre. »
XII
Si Dieu est dans la mosquée, alors à qui ce monde appartient-il ?
Pèlerin, si Rama est dans l’image que tu adores, alors que se passe-t-il là où il n’y a pas d’images ?
Hari est à l’orient ; Allah est à l’occident. Regarde dans ton cœur, tu y trouveras à la fois Karim et Rama.
Tous les hommes et toutes les femmes du monde sont Ses formes vivantes.
Kabir est l’enfant d’Allah et de Rama. Lui est mon Maitre ; Lui est mon directeur spirituel.
XIII
Celui qui est modeste et content de son sort ; celui qui est juste, celui dont l’esprit est rempli de résignation et de paix ;
Celui qui L’a vu et qui L’a touché, celui-là est libéré de la crainte et de l’angoisse.
Pour lui la pensée de Dieu est comme une pâte de santal répandue sur son corps.
Pour lui il n’y a aucune autre joie que cette pensée.
Une harmonie accompagne son travail et son repos ; un rayonnement d’amour émane de lui.
Kabir dit : « Touche les pieds de Celui qui est un, indivisible, immuable, paisible, qui remplit de joie à pleins bords les vases terrestres et dont la forme est amour. »

Indology


QUINTESSENCE OF THE HIGHEST PURPOSE: A TRANSLATION, INTRODUCTION AND ANALYSIS OF ŚRĪ ABHINAVAGUPTA’S PARAMĀRTHASĀRA



Dr. Jeffrey S. Lidke*




ABSTRACT

Abhinavagupta (ca. 975-1025 C.E.) is the greatest synthesizer of Indian Tantric thought and practice. His works influenced and shaped theoretical paradigms in the field of Indian aesthetics, Tantra, literature, and philosophy. In this paper, the author examines the 105 verses of Abhinavagupta’s  Paramārthasāra (Quintessence of the Highest Purpose) in which Abhinavagupta articulates his philosophy of absolute monism, known popularly as Kashmir Śaivism. An earlier Paramārthasāra was composed by the South Indian legendary saint, Ādiśeṣa during the sixth century, some four hundred years before Abhinavagupta. Abhinavagupta’s reinvention of this older text indicates the constant transaction of ideas between Kashmir and South India, Vaiṣṇavite and Śaivite sects. The present shape of Indian thought emerged only as a result of the fusion and appropriation of different thought-streams. A translation of the Paramārthasāra along with an introduction into Abhinavagupta’s Monistic Śaivism has been herewith attempted.
Keywords: ābhāsa, Anuttara, kuṇḍalinī-śakti, Paramaśiva, Para Samvit, sahāsrāra, satguru, tattva, Trika, twilight language.

Introduction
The writings of the famous Tāntric guru and philosopher, Abhinavagupta (ca. 975-1025 C.E.), represent some of the finest reflections of Indian religio-philosophical thought. Of his many extant works, the Paramārthasāra (Quintessence of the Highest Purpose) offers a succinct distillation of Abhinavagupta’s literary and philosophical genius while also encapsulating the system of esoteric practices at the heart of his Tāntric system. The one- hundred-and-five verses of this composite text lay out the śaivite vision of the universe as the unfolding of a unitary consciousness, called verily Paramaśiva, Para Samvit, Caitanya, Cit Śakti, and Anuttara. Through a process of hierarchical manifestation, this Supreme Principle assumes the form of thirty-six evolutes (tattvas), and in this way, projects the universe of diverse objects upon its own screen. At the core of this universal projection, the absolute assumes the form of the limited human experiencer. Veiling itself with the three cloaks (trimala), Paramaśiva assumes self-limitation (saṅkocana).Yet, this contracted experience is only temporary. Through the awakening of coiled power (kuṇḍalinī-śakti) received in Tantric initiation (dīkṣā) the limited agent (kartā) internally ascends the ladder of tattvas and reclaims his status as the omnipotent Absolute.
In this essay, I have attempted to illuminate how the Paramārthasāra serves as a guide for this process of the awakening and internal ascension of kuṇḍalinī-śakti. Towards this end, I have rendered my own translation of the




* Dr. Jeffrey S. Lidke is Associate Professor and chair of the Department of Religion and Philosophy at Berry College. He is a prolific writer on the yoga, theme of aesthetics, spirituality and Tantra.  He is co-editor for the Southeast Review of Asian Studies. This paper is a transformation and revision of a previously unpublished draft of his M.A. thesis first submitted to the University of California, Santa Barbara in 1996. Any questions or comments regarding this essay can be directed to Dr. Lidke at: jlidke@berry.edu.

Dr. Jeffrey S. Lidke 1


Journal of Indian Research Vol.1, No.4, October-December, 2013

text and have written a brief introduction and commentary with the aim of framing for the reader the context in which Abhinavagupta penned his masterful text. In this way it is hoped that my essay serves as an introduction to both the text and the Trika-Kaula tradition in which it arises. By tracing the history of this tradition, and by analyzing its fusion of philosophy and practice in the context of tantric sādhana, I hope to provide an illuminating glimpse into one of the most gifted minds in the history of Indian civilization.

Contextualizing The Text

As a guide for this voyage into the uncharted realm of Tantric practice, we will follow the map drawn by Abhinavagupta in his condensed text, the Paramārthasāra (PS). In 105 ārya-ghaṭa verses, this cryptic and highly codified text details the fourfold path (upāya-catuṣṭayam) to realization (śivattva).

The first English rendering of this text appeared in 1910 in an article entitled “The Paramarthasara of Abhinava-Gupta” by L. D. Barnett.1    In the preface to this outdated yet useful translation, Barnett writes that his intention in publishing the PS is part of a further project in proving that the “living faith of the majority of modern Tamils is in almost every respect...the same doctrine that was taught in Kashmir about the beginning of the eleventh century by Abhinavagupta.” 2  This argument for a connection between southern and northern śaiva traditions is clearly strengthened by the fact that Abhinavagupta’s work is based on an earlier southern text of the same name.3 Interestingly, this sixth century text, also known as the Ādhārakārikā, is authored by a South Indian Vaiṣṇavite Guru, Ādiśeṣa, known more popularly as Patañjali, the legendary incarnation of Viṣṇu’s serpentine companion and the famous author of multiple important Sanaskritic works. That Abhinavagupta based his 10th-century śaiva text on this early work suggests not only that there was a shared corpus of texts between the North and South, but also a shared philosophical and practical basis among the numerous traditions then present in Kashmir.
As Silburn points out, this unifying basis was the Sāṃkhya -Yoga system. Ādiśeṣa’s PS is essentially a Sāmkhya text overlaid with Vaiṣṇava theology. It borrows the classic Sāmkhya dualism of contentless consciousness (puruṣa) and materiality (prakṛti), while reframing it in the context of Viśiṣṭādvaita.
The Trika-kaula as a Tradition of experience (anubhavasampradāya)

While Abhinavagupta’s PS is clearly an adaptation of this earlier text, we would be unwise to follow Chatterji’s lead in labeling it as “only the Ādhāra-Kārikās with a few alterations here and there.” In fact, only a quarter of Abhinavagupta’s 105 verses directly parallel the Ādiśeṣa text. The remaining three-quarters are an expression of Abhinavagupta’s own Trika-Kaula system and have no direct counterpart in the older text. For this reason Abhinavagupta states that his purpose is not simply to transcribe the Ādhārakārikās verbatim, but to elucidate them in “accord with the tenets of Trika-śaiva philosophy.”4
Interestingly, taking into account the frequent double intentionality of Tantric “twilight language” (sandhā- bhāṣā), this same verse can also be understood to mean that Abhinavagupta has written the PS “in accord with [his] yogic intuition of śaiva doctrine.” The crucial word in the text is dṛṣṭi (√dṛś, “to see”). Chatterji translates it as a synonym of darśana, or philosophical system,5  while Barnett renders it as “mystic vision.”6  Certainly, these are not mutually exclusive renderings, but rather equally valid and important translations of dṛṣṭi.7 Taken together, they reveal an essential feature of Indian philosophy: namely, its direct relation to direct experience (anubhava).8 In other words, in the context of Indian philosophizing, “spiritual vision” is often the logical precursor to a “philosophical system”; consequently, one’s own direct experience (anubhava) is a necessary and logical prerequisite to the writing of a philosophical treatise. Hence, we are to interpret Abhinavagupta’s use of the word “dṛṣṭi” as a conscious attempt to appropriate its polyvalency. In other words, his intention is to show that his capacity to elucidate the principles of śaiva philosophy (darśana) resides precisely in his own yogic perception (dṛṣṭi) attained through sādhana.

This interpretation would clearly be in line with Abhinavagupta’s own epistemological views that direct experience (anubhava) forms the apex of the three-fold means of correct knowledge (pramāṇa), whose base is scripture (āgama) and the word of the guru (yukti).9 Indeed, Abhinavagupta considers Tantra to be a “tradition based on experience” (anubhavasampradāya).10  Thus, the significance of the third verse of the PS is not only that it establishes the text’s relation to an older scripture, but, more importantly, the author’s own

2


Journal of Indian Research Vol.1, No.4, October-December, 2013

attainment.11 For this reason, Abhinavagupta’s Trika-Kaula deserves to be viewed not solely as fuel for the fires of philosophical abstraction (tarkajvāla), but rather as a practical system “providing a viable means for the attainment of mokṣa.”12
Abhinavagupta as adhikārin
In the final chapters of his Tantrāloka, Abhinavagupta narrates the special circumstances of his birth. Desiring to parent a siddha, or perfected being, Abhinavagupta’s parents—Narasimhagupta and Vimalā—performed an esoteric ritual. Consequently, when Abhinavagupta entered the world nine months later he was viewed not as an ordinary child, but as a yoginībhū, a special child conceived from the union of a siddha and a yoginī during the course of Tantric ritual. Due to the extraordinary circumstances of his birth and the rich devotional environs of his childhood, Abhinavagupta readily acquired mastery of a wide array of subjects ranging from Buddhist doctrine to śaiva Tantra, to grammar and poetry. However, according to Abhinavagupta, the apex and culmination of learning came through his “studies” with the Kaula guru, Śambhunāth. It was from this teacher that Abhinavagupta received initiation into the esoteric Kula lineage. In this initiation he received the descent of power (śaktipāta) which produced a condition of embodied liberation (jīvan-mukta).13

Regardless of the authenticity of this autobiographical account, the fact that Abhinavagupta is compelled to narrate it in his magnum opus, the TĀ, suggests the prominent status of Tantric practice in his philosophical thought. As if compelled to justify his qualification for composing the TĀ, an authoritative synthesis of Tantric doctrine and practice, Abhinavagupta asserts that his authority lay in the very fact that he is quite simply a product of Tantra. Tantra is not something he learned solely from books, but is a practice that radically conditioned his birth and, later, produced his final enlightenment. In other words, in no uncertain terms Abhinavagupta is stating, “This doctrine is not simply something I have thought about; rather, it is a reality I have become.” Logically, then, his emphasis is not on providing intellectual stimulation, but on transmitting his own experience and knowledge (jñāna). For this reason, he states clearly that his duty as a teacher is to awaken his disciples.14

Ultimately, as Müller-Ortega, points out, Abhinavagupta’s teachings are to be seen as a method of realization leading to a state in which one “becomes something that moves in the Heart (hṛdayañgamībhūta)”.15  This state of inner absorption is something that, as Abhinavagupta himself points out, transcends the limits of language and for this reason the scholar attempting an exegesis of the Trika-Kaula, is bound to confront an intriguing hermeneutical challenge. Addressing this matter Müller-Ortega asks rhetorically:

Can we completely hope to understand Abhinavagupta?...[In attempting do so] [W]e immediately encounter an important and central cross-cultural perplexity. We have been using the term understand in its commonly accepted denotation: to have a thorough technical acquaintance with something. The term may be used in a stronger sense: Abhinavagupta distinguishes between an understanding that is purely intellectual, and one gained from experiential knowledge. There is an important sense in which to understand the Heart actually requires replicating the journey of return that is the tantric sādhana: we must play Śiva’s game to its most serious and hilarious conclusion, which is the unmasking of Śiva within ourselves.16

As Müller-Ortega himself points, this type of radical understanding challenges the traditional paradigms of western scholarship. Still, the scholar of Tantra ought not ignore the fact that much of Tantric thought stems from and is geared towards contemplative experiences. In other words, much of Tantric thought is properly classified as pertaining to the realms of spiritual practice and its concomitant experiences. Does this mean that we should accept Frits Staal’s bold assertion that to understand practice-based ritual traditions the scholar himself must learn the logic of its practice?17  Abhinavagupta’s unequivocal answer would be “yes”.

However, Abhinavagupta’s views would perhaps not fare well in the post-enlightenment environs of 21st-century academia. The deeply entrenched demand for scholarly distance and objectivity perhaps does not allow for the kind of full-bodied engagement that Abhinavagupta demanded of his own students. However, the equally important demand for hermeneutical accuracy necessitates a proper contextualizing of Abhinavagupta’s system. In other words, although as scholars we may feel duty-bound not to practice sādhana, we are obligated nonetheless to be sensitive to the practice-based nuances of Abhinavagupta’s densely coded writings.


Dr. Jeffrey S. Lidke 3


Journal of Indian Research Vol.1, No.4, October-December, 2013

This is not to say that pure philosophical inquiry has no place in the PS for such a statement would be far from the truth. Abhinavagupta’s stature in Indian history is primarily due to his great gift for verbal expression. In a way unparalleled by any one prior to him, he was able to formalize the numerous esoteric streams of Tantra into a single, unified river of thought and practice. On this grand achievement Kamalakar Mishra writes:

Abhinavagupta presents the otherwise difficult philosophy of Tantra in a cogent and coherent way that makes the Tantric position logically and rationally acceptable. What is complex in Tantra becomes simple in his treatment; what is esoteric and mystical becomes rationally understandable.18

Abhinavagupta’s cogent systematization stems from his own initiation and training in the various lineages and philosophical schools (sampradāya) of his time. In other words, Abhinavagupta’s philosophy is not the product of a single line of thought; rather, it is a rich synthesis of the multiple indoctrinations he pursued during the years of his own sādhana. In his person, the plethora of Tantric schools were united through the intensity of his own critical insight and fused into a single system in which the practices and philosophical views of the various schools were grouped as a hierarchy of ascending powers culminating with the esoteric branch of Āgamic Tantrism known now as Trika-Kaula, “The Family of the Triad”.19  And it was this ability to unify the plurality of Śaivisms into a single doctrinal system that makes Abhinavagupta’s work so intriguing. Before his time, there was no single tradition. Rather, as Alper has pointed out, there were only “a series of overlapping preceptorial lines, and a plenitude of spiritual techniques available to each teacher.”20  Hence, it was through Abhinavagupta’s teachings that these numerous techniques and lineages were subsumed within a larger theoretical framework that embraced them all. And it is this carefully crafted framework that is now commonly referred to as Kashmir Śaivism.21 Although, historically speaking, there never was a Kashmir Śaivism, the fact that scholars now look at the traditions of Kashmir as a unified whole is due largely to Abhinavagupta (perhaps, then, the appropriate term would be “Abhinavagupta-ism”). For this reason no text better captures Abhinavagupta’s gift-for-synthesis than the Paramārthasāra. A careful study of this brief yet dense text enables us to unpack the many levels of teachings and techniques he received and thereby appreciate the way in which he fuses them into a single Tantric “river”.22

This introduction to the PS is intended to guide the reader through the multiple initiatory streams that Abhinavagupta himself journeyed in the course of his sādhana. In this way we can come to see that these streams- of-revealed-thought-and-practice were viewed by Abhinavagupta as ultimately united in a larger river-of-divine- consciousness that itself flows from and returns ever again into the infinite sea of radical freedom. The key to successfully charting this voyage lies in identifying the PS as a map for this most majestic of journeys. This text’s purpose, as Abhinavagupta clearly states, is to guide the aspirant through the ascending levels of consciousness until there is the realization of one’s identity with the Highest Purpose (paramārtha). It is along this route to the final destination that Tantric aspirant, or sādhaka, ontologically encounters the various philosophical systems as inner states of consciousness and being. In other words, in the initial stages of sādhana, when one’s consciousness is still mired by dualistic thought patterns (dvaitavikalpa), the teachings of the dualistic scriptures (dvaitāgama) are necessary. However, as one advances in sādhana, one’s internal ascension is paralleled externally by initiation ( dīkṣā ) into scriptural traditions which claim to grant states of non-dual awareness. Hence, in the external world there is a plurality of teachings and spiritual techniques. Yet, in the inner life of the sādhaka these distinctions are fused in a process of internal bodily ascension.

To understand the mechanisms of this ascension we must first come to grips with the central philosophical systems embedded in the PS and the principle tenets that undergird Abhinavagupta’s thought. Constructing these tenets as our boat, we will then be ready to explore the vast, mysterious waters of sādhana that Abhinavagupta charts in the latter third of his treatise on the Quintessence of the Highest Purpose.

The Tantric Streams

Abhinavagupta’s Tantric Trika-Kaula ‘river-system’ is a careful re-channeling of four scriptural streams. One stream is the ancient Āgamic Śaivism, itself fed by three smaller tributaries based, respectively, on dualism (dvaita), dual-cum-non-dualism (dvaitādvaita), and non-dualism (advaita). A second stream is the Pratyabhijñā which receives its currents from both Āgamic waters and from the philosophical tributaries of Vedānta. The third stream, the Spanda, is similar to the Pratyabhijñā, in that while its source is the Āgamas it then branches off on a different


4


Journal of Indian Research Vol.1, No.4, October-December, 2013

course before being redirected by Abhinavagupta. The fourth stream appears to be fed not only by the Āgamas, but from various sources ranging from Tamil Nādu in the South to Nepal in the North. This poly-sourced stream-of- revelation is the Kaula tradition with its emphasis on radical antinomian practices (called “left-handed”, vāmācāra) as a means to immediate salvation. Of the many Kaula streams, there are two that flowed directly into Abhinavagupta’s system: the goddess-centered cults of the Krama and the Trika. Apparently, Abhinavagupta experienced the Kaula waters as the most satisfying, for he claimed the Kaula to be the pinnacle of all traditions. And of the many streams that fed the Kaula system, he saw Trika as the greatest. In his words, Trika was to the Kaula as fragrance to a rose—its finest essence.23  Hence, Abhinavagupta proclaimed his philosophy to be Trika-Kaulism. As we have seen, this Trika-Kaula river results from the confluence not just of the Trika and Kaula, but from the Āgama, Pratyabhijñā, and Spanda streams as well.

Commencing The Journey into The highest purpose
The opening verse of the PS crystallizes the Trika śaivas’ paradoxical conception of the Śiva, the Trika-Kaula Absolute. Here, Abhinavagupta honors Śiva as the “one without beginning” who “dwells manifoldly in secret places” as “the receptacle of all.”24 In other words, for the Kaśmirī Tāntrikas, the Absolute is simultaneously one and many. Endowed with unlimited power (śakti), the Supreme Principle can manifest itself infinitely without losing its essential unity. For this reason, the universe, though appearing divided, is really only the flashing forth (ābhāsa) of the One. Abhinavagupta writes (PS 4-5):
This sphere ( aṇḍa, cosmic egg) ...is brought forth by the Lord through the bestowal of his innate power and might. This universe with its succession of manifold bodies, organs and worlds is within these spheres; and therein is the enjoyer, the embodied Śiva who assumes the condition of creatures.
In other words Śiva contains within Himself the ability to manifest distinctions within unity (bhedābheda). Yet, just as a crystal remains untainted by the various hues it adopts, so the Absolute remains one despite its appearance in the form of “gods, humans, animals, and plant-life” (PS 6).

The process of universal manifestation is elaborately explained by the Trika system through the doctrine of the thirty-six evolutes or tattvas. The supreme reality—called Paramaśiva, Para Samvit, Caitanya—is pure consciousness beyond the sphere of manifestation. In reference to its transcendent-ness Abhinavagupta refers to the Absolute as the “thirty-seventh tattva” in the TĀ.25  Yet, this transcendent principle is also the ocean of consciousness out of which creation arises. For unlike the Vedāntin conception of Brahman as static consciousness, the Trika Śaiva absolute embodies both consciousness (caitanya) and dynamism or spanda- śakti. Acting as an inner pulse, the spanda-śakti unfolds the universe of tattvas within the body of the absolute (PS 10). Hence, in the Trika schema, the transcendent contains the manifest. And even during the time of cosmic manifestation, the supreme principle (para-tattva) remains “free of delusion, pure, peaceful and beyond creation and dissolution” (PS 11).

This capacity for internal self-manifestation is explained through a dialectic of illumination and reflection (prakāśa/vimarśa). Indeed, the Absolute is characterized as being endowed with these two principles (prakāśa- vimarśa-śakti). The Absolute embodies not only an illuminating consciousness, but also a reflective capacity for self-knowledge that plays out on all levels of manifestation. At the cosmogonic level, prakāśa is the first tattva, the śivatattva, and vimarśa is the second, the śaktitattva. These two, śiva and śakti, are understood to be the Lord (īśvara) and his consort, devī. In Tantric cosmogonic schemes the union of Śiva and Śakti gives rise to creation; and in a philosophical context the union of these two principles is the fusing of a knowing agent (pramātṛ) with the means of knowing (pramāṇa) which necessitates the need for a source of objective knowledge (prameya). Hence, in cosmogonic terms the prameya is the very universe itself, for the product of the union of śiva and śakti, prakāśa and vimarśa, pramātṛ and pramāṇa, is the additional thirty-four tattvas that form the basis of objective manifestation.
The key to understanding Trika-Kaula discourse is to realize that the prakāśa-vimarśa dialectic plays out at all levels of reality. Another way to say this is that each of the lower tattvas incorporates within itself those tattvas that precede it. Hence, even the lowest tattvas, the elemental substances (pañca-mahābhūta), contain within themselves the essence of the tattvas from even the most subtle stages of creation. Hence, the principle of illumination (prakāśa) and self-reflection (vimarśa) are present at all levels of creation. In other words, all

Dr. Jeffrey S. Lidke 5


Journal of Indian Research Vol.1, No.4, October-December, 2013

objects (prameyas) are constituted of prakāśa and vimarśa and for this reason Abhinavagupta claims that the knower, the means of knowing, and the object known comprise a triune Self. It is in this spirit that the Tantras state that there is nothing that is not Śiva.26  Hence, the world itself, when properly understood becomes a basis for mystical realization. Indeed, the higher states of sādhana are said to consist in the awareness that the world itself is composed of the bliss experienced in yogic samādhi.27  There is, in other words, no need to meditate in caves: the highest realization can just as easily be apprehended while doing such mundane things as sipping chai (Indian tea).
Abhinavagupta gives a potent metaphor for this extrovertive samādhi in his comparison of the relationship of the universe to the absolute with that of reflected images to a mirror:

Just as the images of a town, a village, and other objects reflected in a mirror appear inseparable from the mirror yet appear distinct both from one another and from the mirror, in the same way, arising from the absolute consciousness of Para Bhairava, this universe, though inherently void of divisions, nevertheless appears internally apportioned and distinct [from Para Bhairava] (PS 12-13).
In this multilayered metaphor there are three important elements: the objects (nagaragrāmādi), the reflections, and the mirror itself (darpaṇa). The relationship between them reveals both the fundamental principles of prakāśa and vimarśa and the key to understanding śaiva yoga. The mirror itself is Śiva, or pure illumination (prakāśa). Possessing within itself the capacity for revelation (vimarśa), the mirror contains a variety of reflected images. In terms of epistemology, these images are the prameya. The fact of their reflection, which is the means of their being perceived—hence known—, is the pramāṇa, and the mirror is the metaphorical knower (pramātṛ).

What is the relationship between the three? The answer to this question is more nuanced than it first appears. On a surface level, the reflected images appear distinct both from one another and from the mirror. In other words, according to conventional reality, one would consider the knower, the known, and means of knowing all distinct. However, as Abhinavagupta states, conventional understanding has no basis at the level of the Supreme Truth (PS 27). For this reason, the true relation of the three is stated to be one of inseparability (avibhāgin). Developing this theme of inseparability, Abhinavagupta goes on to equate the mirror with the absolute consciousness of highest Bhairava (vimalatama-parama-bhairava-bodham) who, both in terms of the metaphor and Trika cosmology, is the supreme knower (pramātṛ).

Now, what is the relationship between Bhairava and the universe? Abhinavagupta answers that despite the appearance of being mutually apportioned and distinct (vibhaktamābhāti), the relationship of Bhairava (pramātṛ) to the universe (prameya) and its reflection (pramāṇa)—like that of the mirror to its objects—is one void of distinctions (vibhāgaśūnyam). In other words, from the highest perspective, the trinity of epistemological and cosmological principles is a unity. Like the various forms of candy, which are but modifications of syrup, these three are but modifications of the Supreme Self (PS 26).

Bondage And  E mbodiment

The purpose (prayojana) for writing the PS is clearly established by Abhinavagupta in the third verse where he explains that his treatise (śāstra) is written in response to the pleas of a disciple caught in the “wheel of suffering that begins with dwelling in the womb and ends with death.” Living in a universe that is inherently devoid of distinctions, being the self-manifestation of omnipotent consciousness, how then can there be an occasion for bondage? Abhinavagupta answers that this condition paradoxically arises as the result of the absolute’s power of freedom (svātantrya-śakti). In other words, it is precisely because Paramaśiva is unbounded that He/She/It can assume the condition of bondage.
In terms of cosmic emanation, the cause of bondage arises at the level of the sixth tattva (māyā-tattva). At this level, Consciousness is said to assume the capacity of self-limitation (saṅkocana) which makes possible the appearance of duality and multiplicity. The māyā-tattva is itself composed of five sheaths (kañcukas) which limit the functioning of the five powers (pañca-śakti) of the Pure Order (śuddhādhvan) (PS 16). What results is the formation of the ‘three taints’ (trimala) which encase consciousness and transform it into a limited soul (PS 24).


6


Journal of Indian Research Vol.1, No.4, October-December, 2013

This limited soul is the twelfth principle, the puruṣa-tattva. In verse sixteen Abhinavagupta refers to the puruṣa as a “fettered beast” who, due to the influence of māyā, has contracted from the condition of pure consciousness (bodham) to that of a tainted soul (malinas). At this level of the cosmic hierarchy, the Supreme Self, “due to its associations with the darkness of ignorance comes to perceive Itself as a wondrous diversity of subjects and objects.” In other words, at the level of the puruṣa-tattva, there is a perceived split between self and other.
And at this stage there unfolds the twenty-four material categories of the classical Sāmkhya schema, beginning with prakṛti and progressing through the threefold psychic instrument (antahkāraṇa)—intellect (buddhi), ego (ahaṃkāra), and mind (manas)—, the organs of knowledge (buddhīndriya)—the ear (śrotra), the skin (tvak) the eye (cakṣus), the tongue (rasana), and the nose (ghrāna)—, the organs of action (karmendrīya)—speech (vāk), hands (pāni), feet (pāda), anus (payu), generative organ (upastha)—, the five subtle elements (tanmātra)—sound (śabda), touch (sparśa), color (mahas), taste (rasa) and smell (gandha)—, and, lastly, the physical sphere (sthūla- viṣayas) constituted by the five material elements (pañca-mahābhūtas)—sky (nabhas), wind (pavanas), fire (tejas), water (salila) and earth (pṛthvī) (PS 19-22).
The result of this process is that consciousness takes the form of a body (dehabhāva) (PS 23). In other words, according to the Trika, the final result of cosmic manifestation is embodiment. Hence, in this system, the body is both the product of creation and the receptacle of manifestation itself. Hence, the body contains within itself each of the thirty-six tattvas, and for this reason reflects the structure of the universe.28 Consequently, the tattva schema is to be understood simultaneously as a map of the universe and of the human being--the two, in Tantric circles, being inseparable.29
As we will see below in my translation of Abhinavagupta’s Paramārthasāra, in the practices of Trika sādhana the homologies between the universe and the body play out on several levels. According to Abhinavagupta’s Śaivism, the body itself is not the cause of bondage. It is the final product of Paramaśiva’s expansive power (unmeṣa-śakti). The true source of bondage is the malas which encase the finite soul (puruṣa, anu) in ignorance (avidyā) and create the experience of cyclical existence or saṃsāra. In such a condition, the limited soul, “like a spider with its web, spins for itself a variegated pattern by means of association with the body, breath, perception, thought, knowledge and the expanse of ether” (PS 32). In other words, while governed by the malas, the tattvas are an apparent source of bondage:

When the multitude of tattvas are unagitated the Lord likewise appears still; likewise is He excited when they are so and bewildered when there is the state of bewilderment. However, in actuality, from the [perspective of the] Highest Truth He is not these conditions (PS 38).

The last line of the above verse is the key to understanding the Trika conception of bondage. It suggests, that ultimately, the entire notion of limitation is a cosmic joke, or play (līla). In the final analysis, Śiva is never bound, and in the moment of this re-cognition (pratyabhijñā), the sādhaka is awakened. At that point, the body becomes the temple of god (devagṛha) and delusion is shattered. Then, there is the condition of embodied liberation (jīvan- mukta). Hence, for the Trika śaivite, death is not a prerequisite for final release (videha-mukta).30 Knowledge alone is necessary, for in the moment of awakening there is the understanding that Śiva alone unfolds the drama of bondage and release:
He (the sādhaka) would free his own Self from bondage by means of the splendor of the greatness of self- knowledge. Thus, the Supreme Śiva unfolds the drama consisting of the wonders of bondage and liberation. (PS 33).

Paradoxically, this moment of re-cognition, this condition of knowing, often requires ritual practices (karman) to produce a condition of purification in which pure knowledge can arise. Consequently, the Trika sādhana system enjoins the combining of knowledge and action (jñāna-karma-samuccaya-vāda) as a means to freedom. In defense of this position, the Trika defines the absolute as constituted of a triadic power: will (icchā), knowledge (jñāna), and action (kriyā).





Dr. Jeffrey S. Lidke 7


Journal of Indian Research Vol.1, No.4, October-December, 2013


The dimensions of sādhana

Trika theology describes this world as the self-manifestation of an omnipotent and dynamic consciousness. Logically, then, as we have seen, bondage is an impossibility, an illusion or mirage. Yet, there is the experience of suffering and consequently the need for a method (upāya) which brings about the dissolving of the mirage of ignorance. Herein, enters the essential features of Tantra—an elaborate technology of self-release based on a science of the body (dehavidyā). Within this system, abstract philosophical inquiry as found in the initial sections of the PS, forms part of the means to liberating knowledge (jñāna).31  In other words, descriptions of the tattvas, the nature of the cosmogonic process, etc., serve not only to satisfy intellectual curiosities, but to finally produce an existential awakening and release. And this condition, the Tantras declare, requires “active ritual participation leading the aspirant to experiential knowledge (bhāvanajñāna).”32
Hence, for the initiated sādhaka, the PS is to be understood not as representing a philosophical stance to be agreed or disagreed with, but as a guideline for acquiring experiential knowledge that was disseminated within guarded circles of initiation and secrecy. Initiation was understood to be the sine qua non of proper textual exegesis, since it was only through this consecration that the malas could be removed. Through dīkṣā came the descent of power (śaktipāta) which made possible the revelation of the Self. “As the face is revealed in a spotless mirror,” writes Abhinavagupta, “so This (Self) is revealed as light in the mind purified by śaktipāta (PS 9).”
This initiatory transmission was believed to awaken the aspirant’s own dormant power, the kuṇḍalinī-śakti, which, when awakened arose through the central current (suṣumnā-nādi), purifying the latent tendencies (samskāras) and uniting the sādhaka’s limited identity with that of cosmic identity situated at the crown of the head in the sahāsrāra. This path of internal ascension was called the upward yoga (udmukhyayoga) and was considered the distinctive feature of the Kaula school. In mythological terms, the upward path was the upward face of Śiva’s five-faced icon (pañca-mukha-liñga). This path removed all ignorance and established the sādhaka in the highest state of empowerment through the shredding of the malas:

As the chaff surrounding the rice grain seems inseparable and yet is removed, so this (=the trimala) is shed by the upward yoga of the path of Śaivism (PS 18).

For one to enter the path of upward yoga, the essential prerequisite was the meeting with a qualified master (satguru). Contact with the teacher was understood to produce an alchemical process of transformation that liberated the disciple from all impurities (PS 17). Under rare circumstances, the empowerment received from the guru was so intense (atītivra-śaktipāta) it would produce instant enlightenment and the sādhaka would become “Śiva Himself” (PS 96). More often, however, liberation occurred gradually (karma-mukti) through “ascending the steps of the ladder [of tattvas]” (PS 97).

For a fuller understanding of this process of ascension one can benefit by turning to other texts, both primary and secondary. Quality work in the field of Kashmir Śaivism is now quite established, thanks particularly to scholars like Alexis Sanderson and his kula in the UK, the many American scholars working in the field (Lawrence, White, Skora, Muller-Ortega) as well as a host of Indian paṇḍitas, including Timalsina, Dyckowski, Mishra and others. In particular, one ought to read the Tantrālokā and Tantrasāra in which Abhinavagupta maps out the path to liberation as a fourfold means (upāyacatuśyayam) in which advanced ritual techniques are understood to correspond to the sādhaka’s own internal state of cognitive development.
Towards this end one can also reflect on the following translation of the Parmārthasāra, in which I have attempted to capture both the literal power and poetic sweetness of Abhinavagupta’s reflections on the quintessence (sāra) of the highest (parama) purpose (artha).  While this brief text does not provide the detail of other works by Abhinavagupta, it nonetheless distills the essence of his spiritual brilliance. Practiced in its own context, the Parmārthasāra is chanted as litany to a ritualized and meditative visualization practice through which the initiate seeks to re-cognize her own identity as the highest purpose (for the objectivized “goal” is inevitably one’s own subjective “self” in Trika-Kaulism).  In this state of refined self-as-awareness, purpose (artha), aim (artha) and truth (artha) are all grounded in that Supreme Being who is one’s own self- of-self.  With this awareness firmly established, the sādhaka realizes that, indeed, “I alone am the Deity I worship” (śivo’ham).

 The Lord  is real, but that which we call ‘Lord’ is more than Lord for the Real is not adequately defined in terms only of  its relations to the Universe.  In this sense it is alogical,  that is, “beyond Mind and Speech.”  As the one ultimate Reality is both Īśvara and Brahman, in one aspect it is  the Cause, and in the other it is not.  But it is one and the same Reality which is both as Śiva-Śakti.  As these are  real so are their appearance, the Universe.  For the Universe is Śiva-Śakti.  It is their appearance.  When we  say it is their appearance we imply that there has been a real becoming issuing from them as Power.  Reality has  two aspects.  First as it is in itself, and secondly as it exists as Universe.  At base the Saṃsāra or worlds of Birth  and Death and Mokṣa, or Liberation are One.  For ŚivaŚakti are both the Experience-Whole and the Part which exists therein as the Universe.  Reality is a concrete unity in duality and duality in unity.  In practice the One is realized in and as the Many and the Many as the One.  So in the Śākta Wine ritual the worshipper conceives himself to be Śiva-Śakti as the Divine Mother.  It is She who  as and in the person of the worshipper, Her manifestation, consumes the wine which is again Herself, the Saviouress in liquid form.1  It is not only he who as a separate Self  does so.  This principle is applied to all Man’s function- ings and is of cardinal importance from a Monistic standpoint notwithstanding its well-known abuse in fact. Real is again used in the sense of eminence.  The  Real is that which is for itself and has a reason for its being in itself.  The Real as God is the perfect and changeless  and the “Good.”2  The Universe is dependent on the Ens Realissimum, for it proceeds from it and is imperfect as limited and changeful and in a sense it is that which does not endure and in this senw is called ‘unreal.’  Though, however, the Universe comes and goes it does so eternally.  The Supreme Cause is eternally creative.  The Real is then  both infinite Changeless Being as also unbeginning and unending process as the Becoming.  In this system the  Real both is and becomes.  It yet becomes without derogation from its own changelessness, as it were a Fountain  of Life which pours itself forth incessantly from an infinite and inexhaustible source.  Both the infinite and finite are real. Real is again used in the sense of intereut and value and of the ‘worth while.’  In this sense, the worshipper prays to be led from Unreality to Reality, but this does  not mean that the world is unreal, but that it is not the supreme worth for him. In whatever sense, then, the term Real is used the Universe is that.  All is real for as Upani ṣad says, “All  this Universe is verily Brahman.”1  The Scriptural Text  says “All.”  It does not say “This” but not “That.”  The  whole is an alogical concrete Reality which is Unity in Duality and Duality in Unity.  The doctrine does not  lose hold of eit,her the One or the Many, and for this reason the Lord Śiva says in the Kulārṇava Tantra, “There are some who seek dualism and some non-dualism, but my doctrine is beyond both.”  That is, it takes account of  and reconciles both Dualism and Non-Dualism. Reality is no mere abstraction of the intellect making jettison of all that is concrete and varied. It is the Experience-Whole whose object is Itself as such Whole.  It  is also Partial Experience within that Whole.  This union  of Whole and Part is alogical, not unknowable, for their unity is a fact of actual experience just as we have the  unity of Power to Be and Power to Become, of the  Conscious and Unconscious, of Mind and Body, of freedom and determination, and other dualities of Man’s experiencing.
—————————————————————————
Arthur Avalon
Shakty and shakta
Conlusions