Alex Wilding

I'm not remotely a scholar of Christianity, but I do believe that over the centuries there has been many a dispute about the nature of transubstantiation. Those disputes have, it seems likely, arisen in the attempt to accurately describe the way in which the communion is something much more real than a mere symbol, even while the bread and wine remain apparently, yes, bread and wine.

These material substances could be said to be an allegory for something much deeper and more meaningful. This is why I feel that saying that the bread and wine embody the flesh and blood or that they are an allegory for the flesh and blood is at least a little bit closer to the mark than just saying that they represent or are symbols for the presence of Christ.

If I have managed to make that clear, big if, then it may make more sense if we say that much of the imagery used in Vajrayana Buddhism is to be understood allegorically rather than literally, which in many cases would be ridiculous, or as simply symbolic. That raises the question of why bother?

The same principle can be applied to dakinis, whether they are visualized in a meditation practice, called on in prayers, or described in stories. They embody truths, experiences, and visions. Those truths can perhaps be pointed at through extensive and subtle intellectual analytical thinking, although perhaps even that won't work.

But even if it does, it's still necessary for the mystic or the yogi to bring those truths into living experience. The darkening is one way in which that is embodied. These days we know vastly more about the physics that makes the weather happen than we did, say, a century ago. It has an almost entirely mechanical explanation.

If that modern, scientifically based and unquestionably correct knowledge prevents us from experiencing the wind as the dance of the spirits of nature,

and if our knowledge of the physics of the sun prevents us from seeing the sunrise as hosts of angels, as William Blake might have said, or as hosts of darkenies, as we might say, singing to the morning, if we can't open up to that aspect of life, then perhaps, sadly, Tibetan Buddhism is not for us. We have to see these things as more than just symbolic, otherwise it simply won't quite add up.

Seeing this way of expression as poetry is perhaps one step closer than seeing it as merely symbolic. Okay, I hope that little stroll in rather abstract thought hasn't been too long. Let's take a look at how darkenings appear concretely in the literature and liturgy. As I hope is already clear, a darkenie is always female.

She can take almost any form, sometimes very unpleasant, but to be honest, most often she is attractive or even seductive. I once saw a photo of my teacher in the kitchen of an old lady to whom he had been taking some food and other support. There was a poster or hoarding of some sort showing Jennifer Lopez and which could be seen at the back of the room.

It turned out that it was simply being used to shut out the wind. The teacher had not recognised J-Lo, iconic as she may be to us, but thought that she was simply some kind of kitchen darkening, a case of very pure perception, I think. I was at this point going to say that there are three main types of darkening, but having had a little check-up,

I realised that, surprise, surprise, it's not that clean and simple. There are all sorts of lists, and they don't all agree with one another, but some things do all the same stand out.

Firstly, starting from the top, so to speak, we have the Dakinis who are active expressions of enlightenment, and who inhabit what are known as the Buddha fields, which is why they might be known as field-born Dakinis. These include forms of the Buddha, such as the semi-wrathful Vajravarahi, or the peaceful Tara. Secondly, we have the Dakinis who inhabit cemeteries.

To understand that, I think we need to remember the Indian origins of this line of thought, in which cemeteries are frightening, dangerous places, haunted by carrion-eaters, and some of those carrion-eaters may even have been human beings. Hmm...

So let's remember that if darkness of that sort are described in our visualization practices, they embody a dangerous and terrifying force, even if modern Western cemeteries are peaceful, tidy, and almost pretty. Somewhat similar to that are the dakinis of the 24 power places that are believed to have existed in India. These dakinis too may be invoked in some tantric visualizations.

There are dakinis who become dakinis by successfully taking up Vajrayana practice and achieving the results, who are then known as mantra-born dakinis. Then again, some dakinis just appear spontaneously. And it should not be forgotten that dakinis may also take human form.

In any event, when they appear in tantric liturgies, or for that matter in life stories, they do embody an insight or a way of being that might previously have been closed to the yogi. Darkini might give a great meditator a teaching that she has been guarding in Darkiniland, written in Darkini's script. If the practitioner is capable of deciphering it, this may be a great treasure.

One of the most famous human Darkinis was Yeshe Tsodyal. She was Guru Rinpoche's main consort when he was in Tibet and is remembered with great fondness today. And having mentioned the word consort, I think it's important to underline again that much of this material comes from cultures with a totally, totally, totally different mindset where sex is concerned.

Deities or significant human beings, like Guru Rinpoche and Yeshe Tsogyal for that matter, in sexual union, are perceived as beautiful, inspiring and pure. I suppose we could say holy. As I think I mentioned in a previous episode, such an image is not particularly seen as sexy.

Nor does it necessarily imply that followers have to practice concrete sexual yogas, although they do exist, in order to get anywhere on the path to enlightenment, any more than Christians are expected to nail themselves to a cross to become Christ-like. They might do that, of course, but that's another story. Of course, People are human. I guess you knew that.

Whether we're thinking of monastics who've taken vows of celibacy, or yogis who have not, sexual desire can disturb the balance. Imagine a yogi sitting in his retreat, appearing very holy and receiving offerings from the faithful.