Introduction to Tantra: The Transformation of Desire (3 page)

TH E P RI NCI P LE OF TRANSFORMATI ON

Speaking generally we can say that all the many practices of tantra involve the principle of transformation. As modern science has demonstrated, the physical universe with its infinite variety of phenomena—from the smallest subatomic particle to the largest galaxy—is in an unceasing state of transformation and evolution from one form of energy to another. Our own body and mind are also energy, and whether we are healthy or ill, mentally balanced or berserk, depends on whether our mental and physical energies are harmonious or not.

Through the proper practice of tantra all of our energies, including the subtle yet very powerful energies we are not ordinarily aware of, are harnessed to accomplish the greatest of all transformations. This is our evolution from an ordinary, limited, and deluded person trapped within the shell of a petty ego into a fully evolved, totally conscious being of unlimited compassion and insight.

How can we achieve such an extraordinary transformation? Where will we find the necessary resources to bring about such a profound change? We do not have far to look. We do not have to extract this force from the nucleus of an atom nor do we have to take a rocket ship into outer space and find it in some distant star. Instead, the basic energy involved in this profound process of tantric transformation is the energy of our own desires.

Shakyamuni Buddha

De sire a nd Ha ppine ss

DESI RE, FRUSTRATI ON, AND SELF-CONTROL

WE ARE LIVING IN A REALM OF DESIRE. From the moment we wake up until the moment we fall asleep at night, and even throughout our dreams, we are driven by desire. Each of our senses is hungry for its own particular food.

Our eye craves to see interesting shapes and colors; our ear wants to hear pleasing sounds; our nose actively sniffs out agreeable odors and turns away in disgust from smells that offend it; our tongue seeks exciting new tastes and our sense of touch is forever craving contact of one kind or another. This desire for sensory stimulation is so deeply ingrained that if we are isolated from sights, sounds, smells, and so forth for long enough we begin to hallucinate them.

Our desires are not limited to the things we can see, hear, smell, taste, and touch. Our mind itself runs after ideas as greedily as our tongue hungers for tastes. Abstractions such as knowledge, reputation, security, and contentment are pursued with as much vigor as if they were things that could be held in the hand or seen by the eye. Desire is so pervasive, in fact, that it is doubtful whether there is anything that we do that is not motivated by it. No matter what field we may be involved in—whether it be business, sport, or even spiritual pursuits—it is desire of one form or another that drives us to achieve success in it. Desires are such an integral part of our life that most people would consider life without them to be a living death.

Behind all of our desires is the wish to be happy. In this respect everyone is exactly equal for we all want happiness—even though we may define it differently—and none of us wishes even the slightest suffering or disappointment. If we check up carefully we can see that all our actions are motivated by either the desire to experience what is pleasurable or the desire to avoid experiencing the unpleasant.

Yet in spite of all our wishes to have nothing but happiness our life is full of pain and dissatisfaction. Our prize possession that we worked so hard for either breaks, is lost or stolen, or simply ceases to give us pleasure. Our loving husband or wife soon becomes our worst enemy or dies and leaves us forlorn.

The job we coveted turns into a heavy burden that consumes all our time and energy. Our reputation is smeared, our smooth skin becomes wrinkled, our intelligence starts to fade. In all these ways, then, desired happiness eludes our grasp. Sometimes it seems that the more we try to be happy, the more miserable we become. From this point of view life seems to be a meaningless rat race; our efforts to find happiness lead us around in circles until we end up frustrated and exhausted.

Many different philosophers and spiritual teachers have described this circle of perpetual frustration and have offered advice on how to break free from it, or at least on how to put up with it. Shakyamuni Buddha referred to this condition of repeated dissatisfaction as samsara—a Sanskrit term meaning “to circle,”—and prescribed many different methods for liberating ourselves from it. In the most well-known of his teachings the source of all our problems and disappointments is said to be ignorantly produced desire itself. Liberation, or nirvana, is achieved by completely uprooting all such craving desire from our heart.

Because our eyes, ears, nose, and so forth are the very gateways of desire, those wishing to break free and achieve liberation from this circle of suffering are encouraged to become especially distrustful of the five physical senses.

These are to be recognized as exerting an unhealthy control over the mind and must be treated with the utmost caution. The behavior of someone following this path to individual liberation is therefore characterized by extreme self-control. The practitioner posts a strict guard at the door of the senses and is extremely suspicious of whatever wants to enter. If, for example, a desirable sight should appear—such as an attractive man or woman—the practitioner is advised to be alert to the possible danger of falling under its spell. When following this type of training we combat the tendency of running blindly after objects of attachment, and thereby falling victim to pain and disappointment, by teaching ourselves to focus on those aspects of the object that will reduce our desire for it. For instance, we can neutralize our longing for a beautiful person by concentrating on the unclean parts of his or her body. The aim of this type of practice is to keep desire from upsetting our minds and the intended result is to attain a peacefulness and tranquility that cannot be disturbed by the changing fortunes of our life.

Compared to a system like tantra, which actually uses the energy of desire, this cautious approach to the spiritual path is considered inferior. But this is not to say that such an approach has no value. On the contrary, it is crucial to know when it is appropriate to withdraw our attention from things that disturb our mind. However, if the only way we know how to deal with desirable objects is to avoid them, there will be a severe limit as to how far our spiritual practice can take us.

Tantra’s approach is very different. Instead of viewing pleasure and desire as something to be avoided at all costs, tantra recognizes the powerful energy aroused by our desires to be an indispensable resource for the spiritual path.

Because the goal is nothing less than the realization of our highest human potential, tantra seeks to transform every experience—no matter how “unreligious” it may appear—into the path of fulfillment. It is precisely because our present life is so inseparably linked with desire that we must make use of desire’s tremendous energy if we wish to transform our life into something transcendental.

Thus the logic of tantra is really very simple: our experience of ordinary pleasure can be used as the resource for attaining the supremely pleasurable experience of totality, or enlightenment. It is natural that qualities of the mind, when cultivated, produce something similar, not opposite, to themselves.

This is true for both positive and negative states of mind. In the same way that dissatisfaction itself can never become satisfaction, misery does not naturally evolve into happiness. According to tantra, we cannot hope to attain our goal of universal and complete happiness by systematically making ourselves more and more miserable. This is contrary to the way things actually work. It is only by cultivating small experiences of calm and satisfaction now that we will be able to achieve our ultimate goal of peace and tranquility in the future. And similarly, it is only through the skillful use of desirous energy and by building up the habit of experiencing what we might call true pleasure that we can hope to achieve the everlasting bliss and joy of full illumination.

RELI GI ON AND TH E REJECTI ON OF P LEASURE

It often seems, however, that there is a great contradiction between experiencing pleasure and following a spiritual, or religious, path. For many people, in fact, religion means nothing more than a denial or a rejection of the pleasurable parts of life. It is seen as saying “no” to desire, “no” to spontaneity, “no” to freedom of expression. No wonder, then, that organized religion has such a bad name. Instead of being a method for transcending our limitations, religion itself is viewed as one of the heaviest forms of suppression. It is just another form of superstition to be overcome if we really want to be free.

Unfortunately, the way in which many societies have used religion as a means of political oppression and control justifies this harsh judgment.

This view of religion as something that oppresses or restricts our basic human nature is held not only by its critics but by many religious practitioners as well. There are a lot of people who feel that the proper way of following a spiritual discipline is by denying their simple humanity. They have become so suspicious of pleasure that they think there is actual value in being miserable: “I am a religious person so I shouldn’t enjoy myself.” Although their aim is to achieve some form of eternal peace and happiness they make a point of denying themselves the everyday pleasures of life. They view these pleasures as obstacles, hindrances to spiritual development, and if they happen to experience a small amount of pleasure, they feel uncomfortable. They cannot even eat a piece of chocolate without thinking they are sinful and greedy!

Instead of accepting and enjoying such an experience for what it is, they tie themselves up in a knot of guilt and self-reproach: “While so many people in the world are starving and miserable, how dare I indulge myself in this way!”

But all such attitudes are completely mistaken. There is no reason at all to feel guilty about pleasure; this is just as mistaken as grasping onto passing pleasures and expecting them to give us ultimate satisfaction. In fact, it is just another form of grasping, another way of locking ourselves into a limited view of who we are and what we can become. Such guilt is a perversion of spirituality, not a true spiritual attitude at all. If we were truly content with our situation—happy and peaceful when encountering good and bad conditions alike—there might be some real value in practicing self-denial. It could be used beneficially to strengthen our sense of detachment or to help us understand what is truly important in our life. But we rarely deprive ourselves of something for the right reasons. We squeeze ourselves into a state of misery because we think that being miserable is itself somehow worthwhile. But it is not worthwhile. If we wallow in misery the only result is that we experience even more misery. On the other hand, if we know how to experience happiness without the polluted attitudes of either grasping attachment or guilt, we can cultivate deeper and deeper levels of this experience and eventually attain the inconceivable happiness of our full human potential.

If the fearful, self-restrictive approach that I have criticized is mistaken, then what is the skillful approach of someone seriously interested in realizing his or her highest potential? Stated simply, it is to keep the mind continuously in as happy and peaceful a condition as possible. Rather than letting ourselves follow habitual patterns of grasping, dissatisfaction, confusion, misery, and guilt, we should try to improve our mind by developing deeper and deeper levels of understanding, more skillful control of our mental and physical energies, ever higher forms of happiness and bliss, and a better life. Such an approach makes much more sense than trying to reject our everyday experiences. This is the logic of tantra.

BUDDH A AND TH E P ATH OF ENJOYMENT

Certain episodes in the life of Shakyamuni Buddha himself clearly demonstrate the superiority of an approach that uses desire-producing objects over a self-denying approach that forbids them. When he left the isolated and indulgent life of a prince at the age of twenty-nine and was just beginning his quest for the cessation of suffering, Buddha—then simply the bodhisattva Siddhartha—took up the discipline of extreme self-mortification. As some people still do in India today, he sought to uproot the causes of misery and dissatisfaction by beating his bodily senses into submission. He denied himself food and other comforts to such an extent that eventually he was little more than a skeleton. After six years of such self-deprivation he realized that this approach was fruitless. Instead of bringing him closer to his goal of transcendence, it was only making him too weak to think and meditate clearly.