Sacred geography: external, internal and in-between

As part of my CPE (Clinical Pastoral Education) training with the New York Zen Center for Contemplative Care we have been exploring aspects of Jungian psychology especially as it relates to symbols and images.  We recently finished a great week of classroom experience which included a conversation with Morgan Stebbins, the Director of Training of the Jungian Psychoanalytic Association, a faculty member of the C.G. Jung Foundation of New York, and a long time student of Buddhism.  Stebbins’ presentation on Symbol and Image was dynamic and quite moving- he embodies a depth and conviction that I find compelling.  In addition to this, Stebbin’s visit to our class came at a point when I’ve been playing around with writing a blog post about sacred geography. Very timely indeed.

“What does sacred geography have to do with me?” one might ask.  I would answer, “Everything”.

Within the framework of Buddhism geography and therefore pilgrimage, has come to be something of an important phenomena.  Certainly this is not anything unique to Buddhism; we have a tendency to want to return to places that are significant for us.  Sometimes there is spiritual significance, sometimes it is societal, and most often it is interpersonal.  An example of these would be making the Hajj if you were Muslim, perhaps visiting Washington D.C., or taking your children there so that they could appreciate the way that our nation governs itself, and perhaps the place where one’s parents were born, or where they died.  Geography allows us to honor the meaning that we value in our lives.  We live within time and space, and within the latitude and longitude that time and space afford us, we intentionally (and even unintentionally) plot the course of our lives and identities within their dynamics. How many times has a particular season or even date reminded us of an event that occurred in the past around the same time?  My root teacher passed away on Christmas eve over a decade ago, and I am always reminded of that great loss whenever Christmas approaches.  On the other hand, the Fall months feel like a time of rich growth for me- they always have, and for some reason these months continue to prove to be significant for me.  These are two examples of how I plot meaning within my experience of time.

In most faiths pilgrimage has become something that one engages to touch the past; it is a means to feel the link of those who have come before us and charge the present moment with their power.  It can be the Wailing Wall, St. Peters, the Kabba, Bodh Gaya, a sacred mountain, river, the ocean, a tree and it can also be imagined- something symbolic, a living pulsating image such as a mandala.

According to the Mahaparinirvana Sutra, the Buddha predicted that students of the path would visit the place of his birth, his enlightenment, where he first taught, and where he would die.  He stressed that this may be something that one does if they want to, if it brings meaning, inspiration, and context to their path.  It was a suggestion, not a directive, and ultimately a very insightful reading of how we relate to time and space.

Within Vajrayana, or tantric Buddhism, pilgrimage appears in a more visionary manner.  In addition to the four major sites associated with the Buddha’s life, various pithas, or ‘seats’ (places of power and meaning associated with the dissemination of Buddhist tantra) became included into various lists of sacred places.  For example, there are twenty-four pithas throughout the Indian sub-continent that are associated with the places where the Buddha revealed himself as Chakrasamvara and taught the cycle of Chakrasamvara and related practices.  The pithas, while relating to actual places, also correspond to places within our bodies that have an internal energetic significance.  The exact location of these pithas vary from tradition to tradition, but there is a relative constancy of the mirroring of external and internal meaning in relation to these sites.  In some ways, and according to some teachers, pilgrimage can be done without ever leaving where you are as all of the major pithas exist within the matrix of our energetic body.  This approach is touched upon by the Buddhist Mahasiddha Saraha who in once sang:

This is the River Yamuna,

This is the River Ganga,

Varanasi and Prayaga,

This is the moon and the sun.

Some speak of realization having traveled and seen all lands,

The major and minor places of pilgrimage.

Yet even in dreams I have no vision [of these].

There is no other boundary region like the body;

I, virtuous, have seen this for good and with certainty.

Stay in the mountain hermitage and practice self-restraint.[i]

In his book Sacred Ground, Ngawang Zangpo has addressed in a very detailed manner the thoughts of Jamgon Kongtrul Lodro Thaye on the importance of sacred geography.  Jamgon Kongtrul Lodro Thaye lived in Tibet from 1813 to 1899.  He was a famous meditation master of the Kagyu, the Nyingma and Sakya Lineages.  Through his wide and open attitude Kongtrul helped define and spread the Rime, or non-sectarian view of the dharma, in response to a general atmosphere of sectarianism amongst all schools of Buddhism in Tibet at the time.  He was a compiler of termas (revealed treasure teachings) and was a terton (treasure discoverer) in his own right.  A real renaissance man, Kongtrul not only helped shape and preserve the Kagyu lineage, but all forms of Dharma in Tibet.

Jamgon Kongtrul Lodro Thaye identified a variety of places in Tibet as reflections of the twenty-four pithas in India.  This change in perspective had the effect of being quite dynamic in that it placed Tibetans directly in the center of their own world of sacred geography.  Of course some brave souls still made the journey to the twenty-four pithas in India, but many visited the sites that Kongtrul and his dharma friends Chokgyur Dechen Lingpa and Jamyang Kheyntse Wongpo felt were equivalent.  For some, this type of translation/re-orientation was too much; indeed the great Sakya patriarch Sakya Pandita took issue with the possibility that several pithas could be located in Tibet.

Sacred Ground is an excellent book for exploring the thoughts and teachings of Jamgon Kongtrul Lodro Thaye on the subject of pilgrimage and inner spiritual geography.  Ngawang Zangpo translates Kongtrul Rinpoche’s Pilgrimage Guide to Tsadra Rinchen Drak [or Pilgrimage Guide to Jewel Cliff that resembles Charitra (the union of everything)]- an amazing text that treats in great depth the nature of that particular pilgrimage location as well as it’s inner and secret significances as it relates to various energetic centers found throughout the body.  Zangpo includes a chart listing the manner in which the pithas correspond to the body according to the Chakrasamvara tantra, an appendix that includes three fascinating texts one by Kongtrul and Khyentse Wongpo, one by Chokgyur Lingpa, and a compiled list of sacred sites in Tibet by Ngawang Zangpo.  Of particular interest is a reference to a note found in Mattheiu Ricard’s translation of The Life of Shabkar:

It must be remembered that sacred geography does not follow the same criteria as ordinary geography.  Kyabje Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche (1910-91), for instance, said that within any single valley one can identify the entire set of the twenty-four sacred places.  Kyabje Dudjom Rinpoche (1903-87) also said that sacred places, such as Uddiyana, can shrink and even disappear when conditions are no longer conducive to spiritual practice.  The twenty-four sacred places are also present in the innate vajrabody of each being. (p.442, n.1)

A similarly fascinating book on this subject is the collection of essays edited by Toni Huber entitled Sacred Spaces and Powerful Places in Tibetan Culture.  These essays offer a rich exploration of issues surrounding pilgrimage sites, sacred geography and geomancy.  Of particular interest is the essay by David Templeman entitled Internal and External Geography in Spiritual Biography in which he explores the relationship that the mahasiddha Krishnacharya with the twenty-four pithas, especially that of Devikotta.  Templeman considers the importance of these sites as internal locii and suggests that while pilgrimage to these sites was indeed important, there is little evidence to support that many siddhas visited all of them.  In fact, Templeman suggests that some sites more than others are of particular significance and have been over time, while others are dangerous, home to subtle harmful beings (wild flesh eating dakinis) that need to be appropriately tamed before one can occupy that particular location.  In the case of the mahasiddha Krishnacharya, his untimely end occurred at the site of Devikotta, as this site had a reputation for incredible unpredictable volatility that was well known throughout India at the time.

I tend to wonder where this place of volatility, with beings that need to be subjugated, resides within me.  A three paneled chart provided by Templeman in his article listing the twenty-four pithas according to the Chakrasamvara Tantra, the teacher Jonang Taranatha and the Sakya master Kunga Drolchok, indicates that Devikotta -this very powerful site- is located within my energetic body around both of my eyes.  I wonder where it’s mirror locations are?

What I find most compelling about these books, and this subject in general is that it has a lot to do with how we relate to the world around us, how we import meaning to this world, and what we allow of ourselves in being in relation to time and space.  The essays in Huber’s book and the work by Jamgon Kongtrul Lodro Thaye describe both the Tibetan cultural, as well as the general vajrayana approach to sacred geography- these two are not by all means identical as Huber points out in his essay. Huber suggests that Tibetan culture influenced vajrayana making it distinct from the Tantric Buddhism that developed in India which then spread to Tibet.  While the distinction is subtle, it speaks to how meaning is translated.  It is arguable that there can never be a one-for-one  translation of a text from one language to another, and perhaps, a one-to-one translation of a religion is similarly unlikely.  That said, without straying into the soft edges of hermeneutics, I would like to wonder out loud, “How does Buddhist sacred geography translate to Buddhism in the ‘West’?”  I think that a great response to such a question is, “That’s a silly question, Buddhist sacred geography is as present in the west as it is in Tibet or India”.  I’d also add that we should map it, live within it in a more open way, and make it ours.

If Jalandhara is a site that corresponds to the crown of my head, Oddiyana a site that corresponds to my right ear, and Devikotta my two eyes,  all the while representing sacred places reflected upon the Indian Sub-continent and or the Tibetan Plateau, where would they be reflected upon the geography of the United States for example?  Or more playfully perhaps, Brooklyn?  It seems that some of this has to do with fully owning and bringing vajrayana home.  In so doing, I would love to see how this type of re-orientation occurs.  Can we do for ourselves what Jamgon Kongtrul Lodro Thaye did for Tibetans?

As Buddhism takes root here in the U.S. and continues to flourish I would love to see all of the twenty-four pithas of the India subcontinent reflected here.  Perhaps as we learn to slow down and notice our relationship with our surroundings this will be more evident.  I’m very curious to see how this aspect of vajrayana in particular translates to western culture; it seems like there is great potential.

[i] Schaeffer, Kurtis R. Dreaming the Great Brahmin: Tibetan Traditions of the Buddhist Poet-Saint Saraha. Oxford University Press,  2005. Pg. 151.