Okay, I know I promised to post Part Two of Tabo Monastery next, but as I’ve been writing, I’ve found it necessary to do a lot of explaining.  In fact, so much explaining in between the photos of Tabo’s interior that it’s a bit interrupting. So I’ve decided to get the explaining done with first. All right with you? Great, read on!

When I first came to Namgyal Monastery in 2010 to observe and document a highest yoga tantra ritual Yamantaka, I knew precious little about the vast world of Tibetan Buddhist tantric deities. What I knew was that an elaborate sand mandala would be made by the Dalai Lama’s monks in their temple in McLeod Ganj, India. I did not know at that time, for example, that this intricate 2-dimensional Yamantaka design represented a 3-dimensional palace, in which the deity resides at the center.

I learned that as a sacred art, whether made of sand, cloth, or metal, its purpose is to be a meditation aid to a tantric practitioner. A sort of blueprint, a sand mandala usually depicts a square multi-storied abode with four gates centered within a circle. Every element, from color, dots, vases, banners, letters, animals, etc., represents an essential part of the deity, his or her teachings, and Buddhist philosophy. Each deity in turn has a retinue of associated deities, which are also depicted. A person contemplating the mandala imagines entering into its palace and encountering all these elements, which is to say, meditates on the qualities and teachings they symbolize. To a devout practitioner, a mandala ultimately represents the mind of the Buddha.

An esoteric and advanced practice, Tibetan Buddhist tantra (also known as Vajrayana) is intended for the properly receptive initiate, with guidance from a qualified teacher or lama. It is an accelerated, experiential way to realize the Buddhist wisdom of the ultimate nature of mind and reality, and great compassion.  First taught by the historical Shakyamuni Buddha over 2500 years ago, it has been passed through oral tradition by lineage teachers. Its goal is enlightenment of the practitioner for the benefit of all sentient beings. And, believe me, this means all.  One of my favorite little prayers is one I learned on a meditation retreat, and it goes like this:

May all beings, large or small
or middling, near or far,
visible or invisible,
born or yet to be born,
May all beings be happy and content.
Let no one deceive another.
Let no one despise another,
whether out of greed, hatred, or ignorance.
And as a mother would risk her life
to save her only child,
let us cultivate this feeling
of loving friendliness towards one another.

Quite a vast scope!  And speaking of scope, there are literally hundreds of tantric deities, each with unique mandalas representing different sets of details and qualities specific to his or her teachings and practice. All varieties transmit fundamentally the same Buddhist wisdom and compassion, but each deity provides a different identity with which practitioners, according to their particular personality, can relate to or find affinity with. It is important to note that it is understood in tantra that none of these deities are real in the conventional sense. They do not exist, but are symbols, visualized in their mandala in a specific and procedural meditation practice.

This multiplicity is something Buddhism shares with its Hindu beginnings.  Prince Siddhartha, after all, was born and raised a Hindu before his ascetic wanderings led him to enlightenment as Shakyamuni Buddha.  I really appreciate India’s cultural acceptance of many-paths-to-the-same-truth.  I understand that Hindu deities are so vast they number in the millions.  This acknowledgement of relativity, even acceptance of the co-existence of apparent contradiction, is truly an admirable hallmark of Hinduism, and in particular, Buddhist non-duality.

Although intricate, aesthetically compelling, and often mysterious to the non-practitioner, mandalas are meant for religious use and are not intended as works of art for museum or private collection. In fact, I had occasion recently to discuss this very topic with a Buddhist nun.  Her position was that tantra is a secret and profound practice, the art of which should only be for the eyes of practitioners.  What would it serve to reveal what is not meant for the uninitiated? While I can understand her viewpoint, I believe that since the Tibetan diaspora has led to the spread of Buddhist teachings, and the increasingly ubiquitous access to seeing tantric mandalas, it is better for the sake of education to reveal some things about them accurately rather than risk erroneous speculation and misunderstanding.

In 1988, the Dalai Lama permitted the first public construction of a mandala in the West as a means of teaching about and preserving Tibetan culture. This was the Kalachakra Mandala, an example of which can be seen here, constructed in sand at the Museum of Natural History in New York City by Namgyal monks from Dharamsala, India. He also felt that it would be a benefit because a mandala is thought to bring peace and harmony to the area where it is being created. Even viewing a mandala is believed by Buddhists to be enough to effect positive change for greater compassion, awareness, and a better sense of well-being.

Since the construction of this first mandala in the West, many have been created all over the world. Drepung Gomang Monastery in Southern India has a group of monks who come to the United States annually to demonstrate their arts through the Sacred Arts Tour.  Last year, I had the privilege to witness and document a Compassion Sand Mandala which these monks made as an offering to the Dalai Lama on the occasion of his talks on Compassion and Creativity at Western Connecticut State University.

Beyond the artistic representation of a mandala, there is the mandala principle, which I believe was first clearly articulated and taught in the U.S. by Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche.  (See his book Orderly Chaos: The Mandala Principle) From a philosophical point of view, everything is dependently interrelated, the seeming order and chaos are one and the same, the joy and the suffering, and so forth.  The apparent dualities abound, and yet they are all constituently the same.

In real life situations, I think of mandala principle as Buddhism-in-action in the sense that your immediate surroundings is your mandala, and all the people you encounter are part of it, too.  You have Buddha-nature within you, and so do they.  With awareness and practice that comes from meditation, you have at every moment the potential to actualize compassion and wisdom in what you think, what you say, and what you do.