PRAISE FOR SECRET DRUGS OF BUDDHISM

Mike Crowley has manifested a delightful book on a topic rarely spoken of, and certainly never explored with such depth. With a combination of personal anecdotes, detailed historical research, and a large collection of traditional art, this book will encourage modern-day Buddhist yogis and mind-explorers to see their practice and its roots in a new way.

—Rev. Kokyo Henkel, Head Teacher, Santa Cruz Zen Center

Writing clearly, in the fashion of an investigative reporter, Mike Crowley unlocks the mystery of amṛita, and answers, with previously unseen certainty, the question of whether or not psychedelics were part of historical Buddhist practice.

—Allan Badiner, co-editor of Zig Zag Zen: Buddhism and Psychedelics

Psychedelic drugs in ancient Buddhism? Believe it. Don’t believe it? Read this book.

—Clark Heinrich, author of Magic Mushrooms in Religion and Alchemy

Secret Drugs of Buddhism sets out to remedy this ‘blind-spot’ in the understanding of ancient Buddhist practices, pointing out the importance of amṛita to the Vajrayāna Buddhist tradition and even offers suggestions for the ingredients of the original, psychoactive potion. The book is full of fantastic insights and speculation, such as the proliferation of ‘parasol’ imagery and multi-armed deities fanning their limbs about in a circle in Buddhist artwork – both rather close analogs to the distinctive shapes and anatomy of mushrooms (it seems so obvious once it is pointed out.)

—Greg Taylor, Daily Grail

This book is not the product of academic scholarship; it is the remarkable result of one man’s private research, curiosity, and intelligence. He is clearly at ease with his subject matter whether it be strange Tibetan gods or exotic flora of one of the remotest regions on Earth and is sharing his own enjoyment of exotic nature with the reader. It may well attract comparisons with Carlos Castaneda’s well-known canon on the use of plant psychedelics among the Hispanic brujos or sorcerers, but Mike’s exposition is different. There is no mythologizing his experience of psychoactive drugs and lamaic initiations.

—Bob Rickard, Fortean Times

SECRET DRUGS OF BUDDHISM

SECRET DRUGS OF BUDDHISM

PSYCHEDELIC SACRAMENTS AND THE ORIGINS OF THE VAJRAYĀNA

SECOND EDITION

Mike Crowley

Foreword by Ann Shulgin

SYNERGETICPRESS

regenerating people and planet

SANTA FE & LONDON

© Copyright 2019 by Mike Crowley

Foreword © copyright 2019 by Ann Shulgin

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior permission of the publisher, except for the quotation of brief passages in reviews. Published by Synergetic Press, 1 Bluebird Court, Santa Fe, NM 87508 & 24 Old Gloucester St. London, WC1N 3AL England

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Crowley, Mike, 1948- author. | Shulgin, Ann, writer of foreword.

Title: Secret drugs of Buddhism : psychedelic sacraments and the origins of the Vajrayāna / Mike Crowley ; forword by Ann Shulgin.

Description: Second edition. | Santa Fe : Synergetic Press, [2019] |
Includes bibliographical references and index.

Identifiers: LCCN 2019030263 (print) | LCCN 2019030264 (ebook) |
ISBN 9780907791744 (paperback) | ISBN 9780907791751 (ebook)

Subjects: LCSH: Drugs—Religious aspects—Buddhism. | Hallucinogenic drugs and religious experience.

Classification: LCC BQ4570.D78 C76 2019 (print) | LCC BQ4570.D78 (ebook) |
DDC 294.3/442—dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019030263

LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019030264

Cover and book design by Ann Lowe

Editor: Linda Sperling

Cover illustration of Vajrayoginī (Artist Unknown)

Printed by Versa Printing, USA

This book was printed on #55 Tradebook Cream, SFI Certified

Typeface: Blanch Condensed and Times

Portions of this book have previously appeared in Fortean Studies, Vol. 3, 1996 and Time and Mind, the Journal of Archaeology, Consciousness and Culture, Volume 8, Issue 2, 2015.

In memory of Steve Moore, F.R.A.S.
“No finer friend”

CONTENTS

FOREWORD

PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

INTRODUCTION

THE AUTHOR’S SEARCH FOR INNER SPACE

PREHISTORY OF EURASIA

SOME SOMA THEORIES

BUDDHISM—A BRIEF HISTORY

INVESTIGATIONS

AMṚITA

RĀHU, THE SOMA-THIEF

INITIATIONS AND SIDDHIS

PEACOCKS

PARASOL DEITIES

WHEELS AND BUMPS ON THE HEAD

TIBET – HEIR TO INDIAN BUDDHISM

UNLIKELY FOOD

GODDESSES AND THEIR TREES

ḌĀKINĪS

CONCLUSIONS

WHAT ARE WE TO MAKE OF ALL THIS?

APPENDICES

THE THREE YĀNAS

THE FIVE GREAT MEATS

CHU-LEN

PILL INGREDIENTS

A LARGE DOSE OF PSILOCYBIN

HISTORICITY – DID IT REALLY HAPPEN?

REFERENCES

MAP

PLANT DRUGS

GLOSSARY

TIBETAN TERMS

ILLUSTRATION CREDITS

BIBLIOGRAPHY

NOTES

INDEX

AUTHOR’S BIO

FOREWORD

ONE AFTERNOON in the mid-1980s I received a phone call from a young man who expressed his admiration of my late husband Sasha’s work and asked if he could take us both to dinner. Instead, I suggested that he come and dine with us at a potluck we had planned for the coming Friday.

That was how we came to know Mike Crowley. Since that dinner party three decades ago, he has been a dear friend. He and Sasha shared a delight in strange words but, for myself, I was fascinated with the depth of his knowledge of Eastern religions. Both Sasha and I found him to be a fount of obscure information, which he is apt to impart in the course of amusing anecdotes. I well remember, for instance, his remarkable account of an elaborate, week-long wedding ritual conducted on the banks of the River Ganges at Benares. I admit that, on the face of it, this does not sound particularly extraordinary, but in this case, the bride and groom were both potted plants!

On numerous occasions, Mike has held our rapt attention as he recounted his traveler’s tales. These remarkable encounters range from seeing an actual sword fight between Tibetan tribesmen to renting a pair scissors from an ancient recluse on Ilkley Moor, England, for the price of one dead pigeon. He also claims to have met a thousand-year-old Buddhist monk in a Chinese monastery. I’m not sure what to think about that one – you’ll have to ask Mike.a

Mike Crowley has long been the first person I turn to when I have any question regarding matters of religion, East or West, especially when it comes to obscure religious teachings. Naturally, in our conversations he has revealed bits and pieces of his research on Buddhist drugs but, until he handed me this volume, I had no idea of the depth and scope of his discoveries. You will find that his writing is a sheer joy and (if you’re anything like me) his revelations will knock your socks off.

So, what are you waiting for? Start turning pages and read the rest of the book. You won’t regret it.

Ann Shulgin
Lafayette, California
November 13th, 2014

______________

a The monk was said to be 1,300 years old. Kim Gyo-gak (born 696 CE), a Korean monk, founded the Huachen Temple on Mount Jiuhua, China. In 795, at the age of 99, he entered meditation and has not yet emerged. Still sitting there, his robes are hanging off him in shreds, and apart from some gold leaf applied to his face centuries ago, he looks like a perfectly healthy, middle-aged man. The abbot of Huachen, having treated my friend Steve Aldridge and me to afternoon tea, formally introduced us to the Venerable Kim in October, 1989. - MC

PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION

WHY A SECOND EDITION?

A BOOK SUCH AS THIS is the not only the end result of years of study, but the research is never-ending. Every new book, thesis and journal article with the remotest possible bearing on the subject must be carefully perused with an eye to improving one’s understanding of the topic. Naturally, the happiest finds are those which amplify the book’s existing arguments. This is especially gratifying if there is some detail which confirms as fact that which had previously been mere speculation. Conversely, there are embarrassing occasions when one must emend, or even erase, what one once considered certainties. Both such changes have been wrought upon this book.

On the plus side, I have added a table of all drug plants mentioned and an entire appendix on the topic of Chu-len (Tibetan alchemy) which describes a few of the psychoactive herbs that are prized as spiritual adjuncts (if not as sacraments) by Tibetan yogins and have expanded the Tibet chapter to mention the sacred sites where they may be found. Also, I have amplified the section of psychoactive grasses with material on Acremonium—a hitherto-unsuspected, ergot-like fungus that endemically infects certain grass genera. Though only a few paragraphs, I am proud of this discovery which validates an ancient myth about durva/kuśa grass.

To discover a text which confirmed my contention that some goddesses, particularly those known as ḍākinīs, represent specific psychoactive plants (and their effects) was especially gratifying and the appropriate changes were gleefully made. On the other hand, some passages which were found to be of dubious accuracy have been improved upon, often by the simple expedient of ruthless deletion. I leave it to the more attentive readers to discover which segments suffered this inglorious fate.

Thanks to the modern marvels of Unicode and UTF-8 encoding, it is now a simple matter to include foreign scripts such as Tibetan and Chinese. For typographical and layout reasons, I have left the few Chinese characters in place, but Tibetan words are represented by their phonetic values. Should any reader need to see them in their original, glorious Tibetan script, a table for this purpose has been added to the References section. Lastly, I have added some color plates that I hope will both to render my arguments more persuasive and make reading the book a more aesthetically pleasing experience.

Secrecy

The earliest Tibetan commentary on Vajrayāna Buddhism speaks of seven levels of secrecy. If this is so, then even those who have received an initiation and its exegesis (khrid) may not have had the entire structure of symbols, synonyms and code words revealed to them. All aspects of the Vajrayāna path are hidden and secret, but the precise formulation of amṛita seems most secret of all. This book is an attempt to use all available clues to deduce the identity of its ingredients and, in doing so, offer a new perspective on the origin of Vajrayāna Buddhism. Although this research shows that the use of psychedelic plants was once central to Vajrayāna Buddhism, this is not intended to disparage this school of Buddhism. This author is a practicing Vajrayāna Buddhist and has deep respect for both its philosophy and practice.

Be advised that this book does not divulge anything disclosed in any Vajrayāna initiation under conditions of secrecy. In fact, I have received certain juicy tidbits in this manner and deeply regret that I may not share these with the general reader.a Suffice it to say that everything contained in the following pages is a result of my own independent research based on works available to the public. To say that they are “available” may be stretching a point as some of these sources are obscure or out of print, but at least they are not secret.

Methods

Unlike the visual art of many other spiritual traditions, Vajrayāna Buddhism rarely leaves one guessing about the symbolism of a painting or sculpture. Almost all depictions of deities are derived from the detailed visualization instructions in the text of the deity’s meditation practice (Skt. sādhana). This means that there is little room for perusing a painting and simply declaring that one of its elements looks like a mushroom. Any dubiety is dispelled by looking up the appropriate sādhana. Thus, when I say that: “deity X holds attribute Y,” please understand this to mean “the liturgy describes deity X as holding attribute Y” and not simply, “don’t you think that it really looks as if deity X is holding attribute Y?”

HOW TO READ THIS BOOK

The Investigations section is the meat of the book so, if you are really pressed for time, you may read just that. However, unless you are very well versed in this field, there are probably one or two items that may have heretofore escaped your attention. And if you are at all curious as to my opinions regarding all this, why not check out my Conclusions, too?

As for the biographical section entitled The Author’s Search for Inner Space, I happily concede that my personal history is irrelevant, both to the arguments I advance and to the conclusions I draw from them. Yet, on the other hand, many parts of this section foreshadow points made later in the book.

TRANSLITERATION

Sanskrit

I have attempted to make this book accessible to the general reader while also being acceptable to scholars. Thus, while generally employing the scholarly standard “International Alphabet of Sanskrit Transliteration” (IAST), I realize that this may not be familiar to the general reader. The “semi-vowel” |ṛ| is particularly problematic in this regard as most readers will not know that it is supposed to pronounced |ri|. To this end, I use IAST throughout except for |ṛ| being written |ṛi| as an aid to pronunciation. Thus, while terms such as Ṛg Veda and amṛta may be perfectly readable to scholars, this book uses Ṛig Veda and amṛita.

PRONUNCIATION

I have not, however, changed the way which the letter |c| is used. The Sanskrit word for “wheel” is cakra (pronounced “chakra”)’ the |c| being pronounced as the |ch| in “chair” (not as in “Cher”). When the combination |ch| is encountered in a Sanskrit word, the |c| and |h| are pronounced separately as in “church-hill.” Also, please note that Sanskrit has neither the English |th| sounds found in “thin” and “this” nor the |ph| sound of “telephone.” A |th| is pronounced as in “potholder” and a |ph| as in “cup-hook.”

English-speaking readers may assume that both |ś| and |ṣ| are pronounced |sh|. The consonants other than |ṣ| which have dots beneath them (i.e. |ḍ|, |ṇ|, and |ṭ|) are called “retroflex” or “palatal” and are pronounced with the tongue curled back (hence “retroflex”) to touch the roof of the mouth (hence “palatal”).

CAPITALS AND HYPHENS

Although no Sanskrit alphabet has an uppercase, I have chosen to distinguish personal names by capitalizing them and by using roman rather than italic type. Thus, soma is both a plant and the drink made from it whereas Soma is the name of the god who is the divine form of that plant/drink.

On occasion, I have also employed the hyphen (another non-standard character) to indicate the component elements of compound words. This is not always possible, however, due to the Sanskrit rules of word combination (Skt. sandhi).

Tibetan

The problem with using accurate Tibetan transliterations is that Tibetan words have many silent letters and arcane pronunciation rules. Few readers are prepared to deal with words such as sP’yan.Ras.gZig or even dBang. Fewer still know that they are pronounced “Chenrezi” and “wong.” Accordingly I have avoided the issue by using phonetics. This solution is not without its own problems as Tibetan dialects may differ profoundly in their pronunciation. Consider the word for “king,” rGyal.Po. In Lhasa it is pronounced gyal-po, in Kham it is jel-po but in Amdo, ja-bo. I have chosen to approximate Lhasa pronunciations in the main text but, for accurate reference, the actual Tibetan script is supplied in a table in the References section.

Chinese

In the face of numerous transliteration schemes for Chinese, both standard and idiosyncratic, I have opted for the Wade-Giles system merely because it is the most familiar to me. However, I do realize the limitations of phonetic transliterations when applied to Chinese. (Even when given the correct pronunciation and intonation, a spoken Chinese syllable may be represented by any one of several written characters.) Accordingly, I have provided the original Chinese (Old Style) characters wherever possible.

______________

a This does not apply to anyone who has received the appropriate initiations. Thus, should I meet anyone who has had the empowerment of, say, the kaya-maṇḍala of Cakrasaṃvara in the tradition of Luipa, a very interesting conversation might ensue.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

MANY PEOPLE HAVE CONTRIBUTED to the creation of this book beginning with Sean Folsom’s “you should write a book,” through Ann and Sasha Shulgin’s enthusiastic encouragement, to Graham Crowley’s meticulous proofreading.

I also wish to acknowledge Clark Heinrich and Scott Hajicek-Dobberstein for their encouragement and for laying the groundwork with their eye-opening books and papers. Further thanks go to Christopher Casuse for his material support and to Gwyllm Llwydd for his invaluable help with the color plates. I also owe a debt of gratitude to Martin Izat for his hospitality while I completed the changes which resulted in this second edition.

Thanks are also owed to “Steve E.” for permission to use the entire text of his personal encounter with psilocybin.

Finally, I am especially grateful to Dr. Lokesh Chandra for generously allowing me to reproduce images from his monumental Dictionary of Buddhist Iconography.

FIGURE 1. The meditation deity Hevajra holds a skullcup of amṛita in each of his sixteen hands. His partner, Nairatmya, holds another skullcup behind his back. Tibetan print, detail. [Chandra]

INTRODUCTION

PERHAPS IT’S DUE to the prominence and tireless activity of the exiled Tibetan leader and Buddhist teacher, His Holiness the Dalai Lama, but it is commonly assumed these days that the Buddhism practiced in Tibet is representative of all Buddhism, that Tibetan Buddhism is the default, normative version of Buddhist practice. I’ve even met people who are under the impression that Buddhism originated in Tibet, the birthplace, they believe, of the Buddha.

To the best of our knowledge, the man known as the Buddha was born in India, near the border of Nepal, circa 563 BCE. Tibet adopted Buddhism approximately one thousand years later, in the early seventh century CE. There were several flavors of Buddhism current in India at this time, most of which found their way into Tibet. Around the sixth century CE, a popular movement arose in India with texts called tantras. The tantric movement influenced all the major spiritual traditions in India: Śaiva, Śaktā, Vaishnava, Jain, and Buddhist. It spread beyond India to other parts of southern Asia — Hindu tantra is practiced in Bali and monumental evidence of its influence may be seen at Angkor Wat.

Vajrayāna, as the form of Buddhism which embraced the tantric movement is called, combines a profound philosophical viewpoint with a sophisticated array of meditations, including the contemplation of deities derived from Hindu and folk traditions (albeit given a Buddhist spin). When Tibet decided to import Buddhism, it took everything India had to offer, including Vajrayāna. Cambodia, Myanmar, Sri Lanka, and Thailand had adopted Buddhism much earlier than this tantric syncretism. As a result, they have a Buddhism that officially has no gods (although some local folk deities have crept in). By contrast, the Buddhism of Tibet recognizes hundreds of deities. As we shall see, these “gods” are not what we normally associate with the term. Indeed, there is a Tibetan saying that “Indians have hundreds of gods, all of which they believe to have physical existence; we Tibetans have thousands of gods, none of which we believe to exist.”

FIGURE 2. Padmasambhava brought Vajrayāna Buddhism to Tibet. Tibetans consider him a “second Buddha” and he is the epitome of the Vajrayāna guru. Here, he and his consort, Yeshe Tsogyäl, both hold a skullcup of amṛita, Padmasambhava’s skullcup also contains an amṛita flask. Tibetan woodblock print, detail. [Chandra]

Another unusual feature of Vajrayāna Buddhism is its reliance upon spiritual guides (Sanskrit, guru; Tibetan, Bla.Ma., pronounced “lama”) who may be male or female, monastic or lay. These spiritual guides instruct their students in meditation on these “tantric” deities in formal initiation rituals. They may also teach them yogic practices involving energy centers within the body, called cakras. Again, these are features not encountered in other forms of Buddhism but were prevalent in Indian Buddhism from the sixth century CE until circa 1,300 CE when the Muslim conquest of India was complete.

It is not uncommon for those unfamiliar with the history of Indian Buddhism to conclude that because Tibetan Buddhism is unlike other forms of Buddhism, its anomalies must have originated in Tibet. It is further argued that it must have been influenced by Bön, the older Tibetan religion. However, this reasoning fails in its first premise: that Tibetan Buddhism is anomalous. The earliest evidence of Vajrayāna Buddhism is from India, centuries before it took hold in Tibet. At one time, the Vajrayāna movement enjoyed extensive popularity, spreading as far as central Asia, Sumatra, and Japan.¹ In Japan, an early form of Vajrayāna survives as Shingon Buddhism and its influence may also be seen in the Tendai school. Nepal has a hereditary version of Vajrayāna in which a father initiates his sons (it is male-only), rather like the Brahminic transmission in Hinduism.

At present, Tibetan Buddhism, that is, the Buddhism which is derived from Tibet and uses Tibetan as its liturgical language, such as is found in Ladakh, Sikkim, Bhutan, and Mongolia, preserves the broadest range of Indian Vajrayāna schools and traditions. However, I would like to make it clear that, although this book may draw many examples from Tibet, this is only due the paucity of other sources; its main subject is the early years of Vajrayāna Buddhism in India.

A curious blind spot

A glance at the titles of Vajrayāna scriptures will find the word amṛita again and again. Many Vajrayāna deities have amṛita as part of their name and a liquid called amṛita is frequently visualized in Vajrayāna meditations. Almost all the early teachers of the Vajrayāna are depicted holding skullcups of amṛita. Two “skullcups” of amṛita adorn Vajrayāna altars and a drink called amṛita is consumed at all major Vajrayāna rituals. Hundreds of Vajrayāna deities are said to carry amṛita in some form, whether in a skullcup, vase, flask or bowl.

Consider, for example, the prominent meditation-deity Hevajra. He is usually described and depicted as having sixteen arms with every hand holding a skullcup filled with amṛita and in one of his several variants (Fig. 5) he and his tantric consort arise out of the amṛita itself.

And yet, despite multiple references in Vajrayāna literature and near-ubiquitous depictions in Vajrayāna art, you may be forgiven for never having heard of amṛita before. If you are, as I am myself, a practicing Vajrayānist, then you may have performed the Vajrasattva purification practice in which the body is (mentally) filled with amṛita. But the actual nature of amṛita, its origin and history, are rarely discussed, if at all. In fact, even a standard textbook which provides a detailed account of Vajrayāna Buddhism as practiced in India and Tibet has managed to overlook it entirely.²

FIGURE 3. Many Vajrayāna deities and, as here, saints are shown holding a skullcup of amṛita. Tibetan print.

The purpose of this book is in part to remedy this blind spot. Not only does it stress the importance and ubiquity of amṛita within Vajrayāna Buddhism, it also offers suggestions for the ingredients of the original, psychoactive, amṛita. In telling the story of amṛita, this book provides a new perspective on the origins of the Vajrayāna itself and, in the process, it resolves a few puzzles of tantric iconography, (e.g. the role of peacocks, wheels and water buffaloes) as well as explaining the previously inexplicable “crown bump” deities.

It must be said at the outset that, in many cases, Buddhist references to amṛita are simply allusions to a legendary “elixir of immortality” and nothing more. Such turns of phrase as “the nectar of my teacher’s words” may be considered as expressions of devotion or mere literary tropes, but not references to a physical potion. There are abundant instances in which amṛita (whether an actual drink or just a meditative visualization) is associated with “bliss” or even “intoxication.” In these instances, we may clearly perceive indications that a draft of amṛita was expected to induce a state of “blissful” intoxication – at least in the historical past. Yet, as we will see, the drinking of a drug potion called amṛita was an essential component of the original Vajrayāna practice.

To be sure, the amṛita as now employed in Vajrayāna rituals is usually symbolic, without perceptible psychoactive effect, but it is quite apparent that this has not always been the case.

Amṛita and the Vedas

Over the centuries there have been various potions called amṛita, the ingredients of which may have evolved over time and by ecosystem as the use of amṛita migrated to new locations. However, as the earliest mention of “amṛita” is as the name of a psychoactive drug in the most ancient Hindu scripture, the Ṛig Veda, it is probably safe to assume that anything referred to as “amṛita” would have been psychoactive. In that text,a amṛita is the most frequently used synonym for a potent, plant-derived drug more often called soma.

FIGURE 4. Typically turbulent amṛita fills this human skullcup. Tibetan maṇḍala, detail. [Chandra]

The Ṛig Veda is not simply the oldest text of Hinduism but is the oldest scripture still in use by any religion. It is a collection of hymns, many of which lavish praises on soma, a word that has three related yet distinct meanings. Firstly, soma is the name given to a certain psychoactive liquid extracted from a plant. It is also the plant itself. And, lastly, it is the name of a god—the plant-potion deified. Not only did soma have an entheogenic effect on humans, the gods loved it too: it was the potion which kept them immortal. In the Vedas, the moon was “the cup of soma,” repeatedly filled and drained each month as the gods drank from it.

The word soma is simply Sanskrit for “juice” (it comes from a verb meaning “to press out,” “to squeeze”). The Vedic hymns also called it “the drop” (Skt. indhu), “the clear one” (Skt. śukra) or, somewhat more poetically, “immortality” (Skt. amṛita). Soma was equivalent to the nectar (a drink) and ambrosia (a food) from which the ancient Greek gods derived their immortality. Like amṛita, the Greek word ambrosia means “no death” (i.e. “[elixir of] immortality”).b

In the course of their fire rituals, while chanting the appropriate hymns, the priests ground the soma plant between two stones, mixed with it water or milk, filtered it through sheep’s wool, poured a little of it into the flames as an offering to the gods and drank the rest. Only those of the highest caste, the priestly Brahmins, were allowed to participate in the “fire ceremony” (Skt. agni-hotra) and the verses of the Ṛig Veda recited during the ritual were thought to have magical power. These magical verses were called mantra, a word which, in a much later period, came to be associated with tantric practice and quite a different kind of recitation.

FIGURE 5. In this variant, Hevajra and consort emerge from a skullcup of amṛita. Detail of a Tibetan print, enhanced for clarity by the author. [Chandra]

While the Vedic fire ritual was a very significant ceremony in ancient times, considered spiritually beneficial to the whole society and especially to the patron paying for it, it has continued to decline in importance since the Vedic period. The agni-hotra is still occasionally performed but the soma now used is made with Sarcostemma acidum,c a vine with no psychoactivity whatever. We can only assume this to be a substitute for the original, truly active, soma plant. As we shall see, there have been many suggestions as to the identity of the true soma of the Vedas. This is not a question that I will attempt to resolve in this book; though I summarize the various arguments (see Some Soma Theories) as a preliminary to investigating the nature of amṛita in its Vajrayāna Buddhist context.

______________

a The words “text” and “scripture” imply writing but it should be borne in mind that the Vedas were composed long before writing reached India and are still an essentially oral tradition.

b Despite their parallel meanings, the words amṛita and ambrosia arose independently and are not believed to be related linguistically.

c Sarcostemma acidum was previously known as Asclepius acidum.

THE AUTHOR’S SEARCH FOR INNER SPACE

A TEENAGED DOPE-FIEND

MY FATHER AND I were visiting his friend Jackie who made a surprisingly honest living as a street trader and lived in an apartment near the center of Cardiff with his wife, a government social worker. He and my father shared two interests: listening to jazz and smoking an herb they called “ganj;” interests that were to be pursued simultaneously, if at all possible. Ganj is short for ganja, the word used for cannabis in the English-speaking islands of the Caribbean. Little did I know then that this was, in fact, the Sanskrit word gañja, taken halfway around the world as an accidental consequence of the British Empire.

Jackie had the first real hi-fi setup I had ever seen and even before he turned it on, I was impressed by its sheer size. He put Art Blakey’s “Caravan” on the turntable and proceeded to roll a reefer on its sleeve as the notes of Wayne Shorter’s tenor saxophone spilled out of speakers the size of phone booths. Jackie, rapt in conversation with my father, absentmindedly offered me the joint. Uncertain whether to accept it, I looked to my dad.

“Oh, why not?” he shrugged. “He’s old enough.”

Accepting the reefer, I took a decent drag and sucked down some air on top of the smoke. It was quite a struggle to hold it in without a coughing fit, but I was eager to seem “cool” and desperately didn’t want to disgrace myself in front of the grownups. Fortunately, I had been perfecting my dope-smoking technique for the past few months with stuff I had filched from my dad’s stash. The year was 1962, the Beatles had their first single in the charts and I was fourteen years old.

That same year I met some older boys from my school. They too were interested in jazz and weed, though their interest in the latter was limited to theoretical discussion. They had never actually seen any. Needless to say, I saw a way of rectifying this deficiency and soon gained a new circle of friends. Over the next couple of years, we extended our acquaintance with psychoactive substances and managed to assay all manner of drugs, including amphetamines, barbiturates, ether, morphine, nutmeg, cocaine, amyl nitrite, and opium. Of all the drugs we tried, whether natural or synthetic, none seemed as harmlessly entertaining as ganj.

This may sound reckless, but we were discriminating and many of these substances were abandoned after only one trial. At any rate, our experimentation does not seem to have occasioned any permanent harm. Using the resources of the Internet, I have recently renewed contact with many of these old friends and find that, without exception, they are now retired, having occupied very respectable positions in society. One had been an architect, another headed a nursing college, yet another was a family physician in Sweden.

Some of our number were fans of Beat poetry and subscribed to small press journals from the West Coast and New York. It was in these that we first read of the drugs that were being called “psychedelic.” They were, we read, relatively non-toxic and were often compared to cannabis. We avidly read Huxley’s two essays on the effects of mescaline and would dearly loved to have tried it, or the newer synthetic compound, LSD. In the fall of 1965, one of our number (John) came across a magazine article on the effects of morning glory seeds. According to the article, they contained various amides of lysergic acid: chemical compounds related to LSD, which is itself the “di-ethyl” amide of lysergic acid. These seeds, we read, were one of the few natural sources of lysergic amides and had similar effects to LSD. Before that afternoon was over, we had bought every single morning glory seed in Cardiff. We cut open the packets, tipped them onto a table and counted them. There were almost a thousand dark brown seeds, rather like angular grape pips. The magazine said that you’d need 250 seeds for each person and that, like peyote, the experience might entail a certain amount of vomiting. Sean, Roger, John and I decided we would try it, and I offered to prepare the potion.

That evening, I ground all the seeds to a very fine powder in my parents’ coffee grinder, mixed the powder with cold water and set it aside overnight to soak. Our intention had been to drink it the very next day, but the adventure was postponed because John had family commitments. When we heard that he couldn’t make the following day either, we decided to go ahead without him. I strained the batch of powdered seeds through cheesecloth, bottled the liquor and took it to Sean’s flat. At the last moment, due to the unappetizing appearance of the fluid, we decided to make lemon jelly with it. When this had been made and consumed, we sat around, listening to records, chatting, and waiting for the effects. An hour went by – nothing. Another hour – still nothing. We concluded that either the morning glory high was a myth or that I had failed to prepare it properly. Accordingly, we changed our plans and went our separate ways around town.

Wales was at home to England in a major rugby match that Saturday afternoon and everyone not in the stadium was at home, glued to the television. The streets were almost deserted and unnaturally quiet except for the occasional, distant roar of thousands of spectators responding to the game. As I wandered through the shabby backstreets, their mingled voices, following myriad acoustic pathways, washed about me like waves, seeming to come from all directions. I stopped walking and stood still the better to appreciate this sonic phenomenon. A long, exultant roar followed by nothing but echoes signaled the end of the match and a home win. As I stood there still listening, a blackbird, unseen but very close, opened his throat to the gathering darkness. His song unfolded in liquid trills and plangent grace notes that hung almost visibly in the air before reverberating through the dingy streets. The crystalline purity of this simple birdsong transformed the prosaic backstreet into a thing of indescribable beauty, peeling posters, discarded cigarette packets and all.

At this point I hastily revised my opinion of the morning glory seeds and decided to seek the comfort and security of The Moulders’ Arms, our favorite pub, before the full effects set in. The sidewalk beneath my feet had become unaccountably elastic and spongy but I made it to the pub without incident. To my surprise, Sean had arrived before me and was seated next to the coal fire, staring intently into the flames, looking even higher than I felt. Sean had not bought a drink and the landlady was leaning across the bar, trying to catch his attention. Given his condition, this was no small feat, but when he emerged from his reverie I tried to explain to him that the landlady was asking what he’d like to drink. Sean smiled as if he had suddenly realized what we were talking about then turned to her and said brightly, “A cup of coffee would be great, thanks.”

Regardless of what they may serve these days, coffee was not an option in Welsh pubs of the 1960s, not even Irish coffee. Alarmed at what the landlady might think of Sean’s bizarre request, I mumbled an excuse about him having “had too much already” and dragged him out of the bar. It was fortunate that Sean’s place was only a short walk from the pub as, by the time we had climbed the stairs to his tiny third-floor apartment, the effects had reached their full intensity. It was not that we were incapable of walking, or even climbing stairs; no, our motor skills and coordination were fine, but a distinct tendency to lethargy was settling upon us and language was becoming strangely problematic.

The evening was chilly so Sean lit his little gas fire and we sat either side of it, he in the only armchair, I on his bed, both of us lost in silent introspection. My mind was perfectly clear, although a lot of unfamiliar yet fascinating things seemed to be going on within it. For one thing, whenever I closed my eyes, I found myself watching odd little stories. Surreal tales of unfathomable meaning and gratuitous intensity would play out in Technicolor and fully formed 3-D. After a while I recognized themes and motifs from my dream life, continuing during waking hours. It seemed as if dreaming were not merely a nocturnal phenomenon but a perpetual process of which we occasionally catch glimpses. Some of these glimpses, which we call “dreams,” occur naturally during a state of consciousness normally induced by sleep—but I discovered that a tablespoon of small black seeds works too.

Occasionally Sean would speak and I would reply but it was difficult to look at him as the outlines of his face tended to break up into multicolored neon threads. This didn’t bother me too much but there was something else that did; a subliminal unease which, while vaguely familiar, I could not place. This strange problem was resolved when a visitor arrived. It was Jenny, my girlfriend, who came and sat beside me on the bed. As soon as she sat down, she reached back and shut the window behind us. Miraculously, the mysterious feeling of discomfort dissipated. Apparently, I had been sitting in a cold draft.

Jenny was amused by our condition and continued to minister to our needs, making cups of tea and changing records. The mood of the evening improved greatly, but I was still not entirely enjoying the drug experience. Even with a comfortably warm back, there was still a little knot of anxiety deep inside me. Eventually the cups of tea worked their way through my system and I made a visit to the bathroom. To my utter astonishment, I found that I couldn’t urinate. I stood there, poised over the toilet bowl, and tried to analyze the problem: I definitely needed to go, so why couldn’t I? In a moment of intuition, I understood that my reluctance to let go of my urine was in some way analogous to my inability to “let go” and enjoy the experience. The instant this realization dawned, the floodgates opened and I was able to release a stream of piss. As I watched it merge with the water in the bowl I realized that just a moment before, this substance had been an integral part of my being, held inside my bladder. Now, as I flushed this portion of myself down the toilet, a pint of me was extending myself into the watery realm to unite with the contents of the sewer, then the sea, and eventually to lap upon unseen shores beyond vast oceans. By the time I resumed my position on the bed, I was no longer confined within my previous notions of what constituted “self.” The cosmos was one—seamless, indivisible; by relinquishing attachment to the notion of “me,” I had become the whole.

Jenny put Otis Blue on the turntable. I fell back onto the bed and closed my eyes as my body dissolved in a cloud of incandescent joy.

A strange find

One Saturday afternoon in the autumn of 1966, in a pleasant suburban home on the outskirts of London, I first laid eyes on a small brass object without which this book might never have been written.

“Good grief, it’s Tibetan!” I exclaimed.

“Nah, surely not. It’s Mexican,” said Les. “Some kind of imitation Aztec, tourist thing.”

“No, Les, I’m sure it’s Tibetan. I’m reading this book about Tibetan Buddhism and it’s got a picture of one of these.”

According to the book, the object was called a p’urba. Apart from this single illustration, the only other item of information I had about p’urbas came from a book by Alexandra David-Neel, an extraordinary woman who explored Tibet (and converted to Buddhism) at the time of the First World War. She reported the Tibetan belief that some of these p’urba were endowed with consciousness and possessed the magical ability to fly into and out of people’s lives, for their own p’urba reasons. Naturally, I dismissed this as fanciful nonsense.

My interest in Buddhism had begun a few years earlier when I was at high school in Wales. I can precisely date it to an occasion when I decided to enliven an otherwise uninteresting afternoon by arguing with a visiting speaker. He gave a brief introductory talk on Buddhism, which was followed by group discussion. As an avowed atheist, I initially felt very superior to this foolish fellow who had been taken in by some exotic god cult, but what a surprise I had! It soon transpired that he, like most Buddhists, was an atheist, too. That was not all. Not only did he have no belief in god, he told us that Buddhists didn’t believe in the soul either. Most of our problems, he explained, derive from an instinctive, yet misguided, attachment to this fictitious “self.”

A self? Surely, I had a self. Didn’t I? What proof could I offer anyone (even myself) that I had a self? It had never before crossed my mind to ask such strange questions, but I found this attitude of profound skepticism intellectually intoxicating. My habitual distrust of religion was difficult to shift; throughout the discussion I stubbornly challenged the speaker’s every statement but, in truth, I was fascinated. This calm, analytical philosophy was unlike any religion I had ever heard of.

When the discussion was over, I approached the speaker to ask him where I could learn more. Visibly astonished at my apparent volte-face, he explained that he was a volunteer for the Buddhist Society, which was based in London, and suggested that I begin my inquiries there. So, from that time on, whenever I made a trip to London, I made a point of visiting the Buddhist Society. I would pick up the latest issue of The Middle Way and a few of the numerous instructional pamphlets about this “religion” —a spiritual path with no interest in a supreme being. One of these pamphlets taught me how to calm the mind by simply observing the ebb and flow of my breath. I followed the instructions but it seemed that my mind, rather than calming down, was becoming more chaotic than ever. I assumed that I was doing something wrong and shelved the meditation for a while.a

In 1966, at the age of eighteen, I moved to the outskirts of London. This gave me the opportunity to visit the Buddhist Society on a weekly basis and borrow books from their extensive library. I found the simplicity and directness of Zen very attractive and, although I was convinced that this was the path for me, I was open to the teachings of other traditions and read voraciously. That was how I came to recognize the p’urba.

Les was one of my neighbors, a jovial fellow in his late forties who was fanatically devoted to weekend rummage sales. He had a great eye for quality and was steadily amassing an Aladdin’s cave of antiques that he referred to as his “retirement fund.” First thing every Saturday, Les set off on a frantic race around a circuit of church halls and Boy Scout huts, trying to spot any valuable item before antique dealers snatched it up. There were a few other enthusiasts like him, and they would spend only a few minutes at each sale so that all the decent stuff was gone by midmorning. Les would usually stop by on his way home to show off his haul and after a few of these visits, I was left in no doubt that he was going to enjoy a very comfortable old age. His finds were truly remarkable.

One week he came by with two items, the first being a fur coat, which he presented to Sue, my girlfriend. Admittedly the lining was in tatters and it had cost him next to nothing, but the fur was Russian sable. It cost only a few pounds to repair, and that winter Sue was among the best dressed hippies in town. The other object Les brought that day was an immense, intricately ornamented Nepalese brass temple lamp, its surface glowing with a deep bluish-green patina, acquired over centuries. It simply took my breath away, both with its beauty and the sheer improbability of finding a huge, intricately ornamented Hindu temple lamp in an English church sale. But after we had all gawped at it for half an hour, Les took it away and carefully packed it, labeled it and hid it in his attic until he retired.

Occasionally, Les would bring home an object he couldn’t identify. On the particular Saturday afternnon I referred to above, it was a dagger-like object made of brass, about eight inches long. At its top were three angry faces, surmounted by a horse’s head. At the other end was a point composed of three (very blunt) blades. Its central portion, the part by which it must have been held, was something resembling the thunderbolts classical artists used to place in the hands of the sky gods Zeus and Jupiter.

I showed him the book where I’d seen the mysterious object he thought was Mexican and I said was Tibetan. It was on loan from the library of the Buddhist Society and had a photograph of an object which it identified as a “Tibetan ritual implement.” Les looked back and forth from the illustration to the object in his hand. When he had satisfied himself that they were nearly identical, Les handed the “ritual implement” to me, telling me to take it. He stifled my protests by observing that I obviously had “an interest in these things,” and that it had cost him only two pence. It was, he assured me, now mine. I was thrilled to be the owner of an actual “Tibetan ritual implement,” but now I had to find out what I possessed. According to the book, the object was called a p’urba. Apart from this single illustration, the only other item of information I had about p’urbas came from Alexandra David-Neel’s book. I was eager to learn in what kind of ritual it was used. What was that thunderboltlike thing? Whose were those angry faces and why on Earth did it have the horse’s head?

My first move was to take it to the Buddhist Society where I showed it to Pat Wilkinson,b the well-traveled and knowledgeable librarian and asked if there were any books about p’urbas. She told me that I had already read every book they had about Tibetan Buddhism, but she had another idea. A Tibetan monk had just arrived in London. He would obviously be the best source of information. After a brief phone call, she handed me a piece of paper with an address, telling me that the monk was expecting me.

Meeting the lama

It was only a short ride on the Underground to the hostel for foreign students where he was staying. One of the first lamas to arrive in the west following the Chinese invasion of Tibet, he was in London to study English. At twenty-six, he was only eight years older than I. The young lama, though formally attired in the maroon robes of a Tibetan monk, was not one to stand on ceremony and soon produced two steaming mugs of very English tea. He introduced himself as Lama Yungdrung, I explained why I had come, and showed him the p’urba. He looked rather taken aback that I should turn up with such a thing in a land so far from its origin but, as he obviously knew what a p’urba was, I felt satisfied that I’d brought it to the right place. As we sipped our tea, the lama explained that the Tibetan word p’urba literally means “nail” or “peg” and the part which looked like Jupiter’s thunderbolt was actually supposed to be (you guessed it) a thunderbolt. This, in Tibetan, is called a dorje, so the object is correctly called a dorje p’urba. It symbolized, he said, the protective power of enlightenment and told me I should always carry it on my person.

Despite his peculiar pronunciation and a rather startling disregard for English syntax, Lama Yungdrung’s answers were carefully considered and clearly stated. I quickly concluded that, during his brief acquaintance with westerners, he had patiently answered these same questions many, many times. I was informed that, although he was indeed a monk, that is not the meaning of lama; the word is Tibetan for “guru” or “spiritual teacher.” Some monks and nuns are lamas but most are not. In his school, I learned, even laypersons could become lamas. He explained that the essence of his lineage was meditation and that monastic vows were not necessary to teach; anyone with sufficient clarity and insight could do it.

Sheepishly, I told him of my failed attempts at watching my breaths and asked if he could offer any suggestions as to what I might be doing wrong. Minutes later, after he had shown me a comfortable sitting posture, Lama Yungdrung taught me a new version of the practice. Rather than simply watching the breath, each “out” and “in” is synchronized, in the imagination, with the sounds of certain syllables which are visualized, or rather “heard,” as clearly as possible. We then sat together and put the instruction into practice. It was just ten minutes or so, but the effects amazed me. In hindsight, I realize that I had merely dipped a toe into the sea of consciousness exploration, but it granted me a brief glimpse of the calmness and clarity which had hitherto eluded me.

As I was leaving, I asked Lama Yungdrung if I could visit him again and ply him with more questions. To my delight, he agreed. On the next occasion, I brought up the subject of Tibetan “gods.” Most accounts of Tibet mentioned that, unlike other forms of Buddhism, Tibetan Buddhism included the worship of many gods and goddesses. As an atheist who was on the verge of defining myself as a Buddhist, I found this objectionable. How could all these deities fit with Buddhist philosophy?

In reply, the lama asked me if I had the p’urba with me. Naturally, I had – he had said to carry it always. (Besides which, what modish young hippie-about-town wouldn’t want such an exotic object tucked in his belt?) I handed him the p’urba and he pointed out the three angry faces. He said they were the faces of a “god” called Tamdin which in Sanskrit is Hayagariwac and that both names mean “horse-neck.” He went on to explain that Tamdin is a “protector” who has four faces: three human and a horse’s head that grows out of the crown of his head. Tamdin is not really angry; the fierce faces symbolize his energetic activity. Also, the lama explained, the horse symbolizes speed and means that he works very quickly. He said it is very important that we should not think of Tamdin as some kind of god who exists in a heaven somewhere. Rather than being an external deity, he is a quality of intensely focused compassion, which it is possible to discover in our own minds. The physical p’urba is just a reminder of this state of mind.

When I complimented Lama Yungdrung on his exceptional knowledge of Tibetan Buddhism, he explained that when he was very young he had been identified as the reincarnation of a deceased lama. He had therefore been raised in a monastery and had been instructed in all aspects of Buddhist philosophy and monastic life since early childhood. Accordingly, he conceded that his knowledge of Buddhism was “not bad.” Then he laughed.

“In Tibet, monks are always modest and would never say ‘I have knowledge.’ That’s not good.”

His mouth widened into a huge grin. “One time I was visiting the London Buddhist Society, and an Australian lady said to me, ‘You grew up in a monastery, you must know everything about Tibetan Buddhism.’ Being very modest, I said, ‘Oh, no… I know nothing about Buddhism.’ So, she said, ‘You’re no bloody good, then!’ and walked away.”

The memory of this incident caused him to explode in gales of laughter. “But it is true!” he gasped, “If I know nothing, I’m no bloody good!”

During one of these early interviews with this young man who was to become my guru, I asked about what I considered the most fascinating aspect of Tibetan Buddhism—the tantric tradition called Vajrayāna. I had read passing references to magic, mantras and, most intriguing of all, sexual yoga. This was my chance to get the inside story.

“Hmm.” The lama wrinkled his brow. For a moment, it looked as if the name rang a bell. “It is called the Vajrayāna?”

“Yes, Vajrayāna! At first, I thought that there were only two branches of Buddhism – Hinayana and Mahāyāna – but I’ve read that, in Tibet, Nepal and Mongolia, there is another ‘yāna’ and that its scriptures are called tantras. They’re supposed to have some kind of secret teachings.”

The lama slowly shook his head. “No,” he said, ruefully, “I have never heard of it.”

Naturally, I was disappointed, but it turned out that the lama had a well-developed sense of humor and the joke was entirely on me. Before very much longer, I came to realize that the meditation practices he had been teaching me had been Vajrayāna techniques all along and the dorje p’urba itself was a tantric implement, especially so as the dorje, or “thunderbolt,” which formed its central portion is called, in Sanskrit, a vajra.

Over the next few years, Lama Yungdrung’s English gradually improved and, at the same time, he began to teach me some Tibetan. Also, a chance meeting with a retired Sanskrit professor on London’s Underground led me to take a few lessons in the classical language of ancient India. At the same time, many more lamas were fleeing Tibet, refugees from the Chinese occupation of their homeland. The “Cultural Revolution” had reached Tibet and the Red Guard was attempting to suppress all expressions of religion there. Ironically, the Chinese attempts at suppressing Buddhism in Tibet (dynamiting monasteries, burning libraries, forcing monks and nuns to marry) caused many Tibetans to flee their homeland, spreading their religion across the globe. Centers of Tibetan Buddhism may now be found in most major cities of the world. Even Bön, Tibet’s indigenous religion, has found new adherents in India, Europe and North America. Most surprising of all, the Jonang lineage, long thought to have been extinct, came out of hiding in the twenty-first century. This tradition, hidden for centuries, now has centers in New York and Atlanta, Georgia.

Psychedelics

I was fortunate in that I was able to explore my consciousness with LSD before it was made illegal in the UK. Two of my friends had, independently, acquired a quantity from Sandoz, the Swiss pharmaceutical company. The LSD came as a solution in small glass ampoules marked “Delysid 1 mg,” which we would split four ways. The effect was somewhat similar to morning glory seeds, but while the seeds were slightly sedating, we found LSD to be a mild stimulant and, to our great relief, had none of the nausea which plagued our trials of morning glory seeds.

Eventually, the government expressed its disapproval of such pharmacological exploration by banning the possession of this remarkable molecule, even for doctors. Realizing that the legislators were sorely misinformed, I continued to engage in synaptically enhanced introspection every few months, even though such activities were now deemed “illegal” and my sources of LSD were not as reliable.

Fortunately, in the late 1960s, my friends and I learned that the classic psychedelic mushrooms Psilocybe mexicana and Ps. cubensis had a cousin, Ps. semilanceata, which grew in Britain. After a few hours in various university libraries, we were sure that we knew where it grew, how to identify it and, most importantly, that there were no dangerous look-alikes.d We found nothing on our first few forays but eventually, after a few lucky finds, realized that we had not been looking closely enough. Once we learned to spot them, we found them everywhere: in parks, on hillsides, in meadows and off-season cricket pitches. It was not uncommon for us to pick several thousand mushrooms in an afternoon.

Psilocybe semilanceata is a small mushroom, rather bitter and, weight for weight, considerably more potent than Ps. cubensis. Older textbooks describe it as poisonous but, although it is highly psychoactive, it is quite non-toxic. Its activity is due to the alkaloids psilocin and psilocybin, the effects of which are somewhat similar to those of LSD but last only four to five hours, rather than eight. It is a curious detail that psilocybin itself may not have any effect, per se, as the body rapidly converts it to psilocin. Ps. semilanceata also contains a significant percentage of baeocystin, psilocybin’s mono-methyl analogue and, while no research has been conducted on the activity of this compound, it is assumed to contribute to the mushroom’s effect.

This species retains its potency well when dried and, in those days, we would typically eat forty to fifty dried mushrooms. This dosage allows access to ineffably blissful states beyond “self” and “other,” where the knower and that which is known form a seamless continuum. This merging with the cosmos is not inevitable and, even when encountered, is not necessarily joyful. On the contrary, anyone who expects to maintain a rigid distinction between themselves and “everything else” is in for a bumpy ride. One who stubbornly clings to the narrative called “me” might even perceive the trip as a descent into a paranoid hell-realm where slavering demons clamor to devour their “soul.” Rather surprisingly, this all seemed to be documented in a text from an old Tibetan funerary ritual.

A Tibetan tripping manual

One of the earliest translations of a Tibetan text into English was the (so-called) Tibetan Book of the Dead in which various visionary gods and Buddhas are described. The Tibetan name is Bardo T’ödol which is understood as “[that which, when] heard, liberates [from the] gap [between death and rebirth].” (The English title was an attempt to exploit the success of the best-selling Egyptian Book of the Dead.) The Bardo T’ödol explains that visions of these deities may occur in certain meditative states and that they appear to each of us after death. It advises us to maintain meditative detachment when confronted with these apparently powerful beings, whether peaceful or wrathful, as they are all merely projections of one’s own, fundamentally enlightened, mind. Timothy Leary, prophet of LSD, read this book and recognized it to be excellent advice for anyone experiencing the effects of LSD, psilocybin or similar substances. Such good advice, in fact, that he co-wrote an updated edition of the Tibetan Book of the Dead, expressly intended as a guide to entheogenic exploration, called The Psychedelic Experience.

As I became familiar with the effects of psychedelics, I could see many similarities to the bardo state as described in the Tibetan Book of the Dead in which successive visions of peaceful and wrathful deities arise in the consciousness of a recently deceased person. The book instructs the dead person not to become involved in these visions, not even the serene and peaceful Buddhas, as these appearances are all the play of our own mind. The more emotion we feel, the more intense and “wrathful” the visions appear. We are told that if we remain detached from the visions as they reveal themselves, we may be able to merge with the wordless, concept-less state of bliss-consciousness known as “the white light.” Those familiar with the effects of psychedelics will find the parallels striking. To anyone else, the link between some drug-induced hippie fantasies and the solemn death rites of Tibet must seem an unlikely stretch. After all, where does death come into all this?

The answer lies in a common response to the effects of psychedelic drugs. I have already described how, at the peak of the experience, the boundaries of the “self” dissolve. In the 1960s a growing body of literature spoke of this phenomenon as “ego death,” an expression, which at first I took to be merely a striking metaphor. A scientific paper, published in 2017, discusses the phenomenon of “Drug-induced Ego Dissolution” for which it employs an amusingly apposite acronym: DIED.³

In fact, it is not uncommon for people to have a psychedelic experience and believe that they have died. In 1970, I met such a person and he told me all about it:

Craig was from Cardiff, a friend of a friend. He had missed out on the earliest batches of LSD to reach the city but was eager to catch up. The person who sold him his first tablet asked him if he’d ever taken it before. Now, if Craig had simply told the truth, he would have been advised to take it in the company of an experienced user, perhaps even the dealer himself.

Unwilling to be considered a novice, Craig boasted of familiarity with the substance, having taken it “many times before” whereas, in fact, the only drugs he was familiar with were cannabis and amphetamine. So, assuming that a trip would be comparable, he casually took the LSD on his way home, alone, and with no idea of what to expect.

Less than an hour after swallowing the tablet, while making himself a pot of tea, Craig was seized with the conviction that someone had died. He was, as one might expect, rather concerned about this turn of events and, being a responsible citizen, decided that the death should be reported to the appropriate authorities. So, leaving the tea kettle on the stove and the front door wide open, he wandered out of the house looking for a policeman. It was not long before Craig found a bobby walking his beat and informed him of the “death.”

“Were you acquainted with the deceased, sir?” inquired the constable.

This stumped Craig for a few seconds, then it dawned…

“Oh, yes,” he replied, “It’s me, isn’t it.”

This was before the general public became aware of psychedelics and their effects, so the copper merely assumed Craig to be crazy. Insane, but harmless. He therefore escorted Craig back to his home, chided him for having left the door open, told him to sit down and proceeded to finish making the pot of tea. After handing Craig his cup of tea, the policeman politely admonished him not to “go wandering off like that again,” and left.

Having thus fulfilled his civic obligation, Craig relaxed, sipped his tea and began to enjoy his first LSD trip.

The Tibetan Book of the Dead describes a sequence of events: first, an ineffable state of transcendence; then there are visions, which may be divine or demonic; and finally reentry into the mundane world (rebirth). This sounds remarkably like a psychedelic “trip.” Obviously, the ancient Tibetans had no LSD, so how are we to explain these similarities? My original assumption was that some Tibetan yogins had discovered a technique, probably through meditation or yoga, for inducing the same brain conditions as in a psychedelic state. Eventually, I discovered that Vajrayāna Buddhism is full of references to psychedelic potions and that Tibetan yogins had their own psychotropic herbs. We shall see in the chapters which follow, Tim Leary’s interpretation of the Tibetan Book of the Dead as a “tripping manual” may have been more insightful than he ever realized.

A legal loophole

In the late 1960s, my friends and I discovered that, although herbal cannabis and hashish had been illegal since September 28, 1928, cannabis tincturee had escaped this law. Not only was it legal, it was available over the counters of certain London pharmacies at £1 per pint bottle. Better still, a couple of my friends had acquired National Health prescriptionsf for the tincture, so all they paid was the standard price of a prescription: one shilling.g

We soon determined that the optimal (stoned but not incapacitated) dosage was one teaspoon, usually stirred into a cup of well-sweetened coffee. A pint bottle held ninety-six teaspoons, which we all agreed was not bad value for a shilling.

The law removed this anomaly in 1971 by declaring this tincture illegal but, for a brief window of time, bottles of this potent elixir were circulating at the same time as “Orange Sunshine” pills. These high dosage LSD tablets were distributed free of charge by the Brotherhood of Eternal Love, an underground Californian organization of hippies who were determined to turn on the world.

Quantities of both cannabis tincture and the “Sunshine” were brought to a weekend gathering at a country house near the Buckinghamshire village of Iver Heath. I shared a pill of LSD with two friends and took a large spoonful of tincture in a glass of water. I frankly did not expect a mere third of a pill to do much and was expecting the high to be mostly cannabinoid. It was the fireflies that changed my mind.

I was standing on the patio, idly gazing at the tall elm trees, silhouetted against the dying embers of the sunset, when a cloud of fireflies rose into the darkness, thrown into brilliant contrast against the shadowy buildings of the turkey farm next door.

“Wow, look at that!” I exclaimed to the friend at my side.

Then, just as he was saying, “What? Where?” the “fireflies” began a complex aerial dance, weaving a rainbow-colored arc across the evening sky.

“Oh, never mind,” I said, as I headed back into the living room and the comfortable safety of an armchair.

J. S. Bach’s The Art of Fugue was emerging in geometrical precision from our host’s hi-fi. This sublime music seemed perfect for my elevated state and I closed my eyes and let the music take me. Then it happened. With my inner eye, like imagination but far more vivid, I beheld an infinite array of crystal spheres, suspended in space. Each sphere was so perfect and crystal clear that it reflected every other sphere with minute accuracy. But that’s only the visual part. It was apparent to me that each sphere was nothing but the reflection of every other sphere.h

At the same time, each sphere in space was also a wave packet in a field. Just as each sphere was the combined reflections of all other spheres, each wave packet was the pervading field, modulated by all the other packets (which, in turn were the local field modulated by all the other packets, etc.). The “sight,” though internal and personal to myself, was truly awe-inspiring. It was as if I were witnessing hidden dimensions of space which exist in addition and at right-angles to the usual three.

One might ask where, exactly, I stood in regard to this magnificent array. It’s a reasonable question but, as every point was equivalent to every other point, I was nowhere in particular while, at the same time, every crystal orb in the entire, infinite vastness of the array was simultaneously visible in every other sphere. And while no sphere had any individual existence, each attested to the intricate interconnectedness of every particle of the cosmos.

I rested in this vision, rapt in wonder, for what seemed an eternity, observing firsthand the matter/wave duality of quantum mechanics while simultaneously witnessing a vision which seemed heavily laden with profound spiritual significance. This was before I had encountered the philosophy of the Avataṃsaka Sūtrai and its metaphor of Indra’s Net…

The Buddhas know that all phenomena arise interdependently.
They know all world systems exhaustively.
They know that all phenomena in all worlds are interrelated as in Indra’s net.

Avataṃsaka Sūtra⁴

An ancient Chinese sage described the net thus:

The manner in which all phenomenaj interpenetrate is like an imperial net of celestial jewels extending in all directions infinitely, without limit…

As for the imperial net of heavenly jewels, it is known as Indra’s Net, a net which is made entirely of jewels. Because of the clarity of the jewels, they are all reflected in and enter into each other, ad infinitum. Within each jewel, simultaneously, is reflected the whole net. Ultimately, nothing comes or goes. If we now turn to [for instance] the southwest, we can pick one particular jewel and examine it closely. This individual jewel can immediately reflect the image of every other jewel.

As is the case with this jewel, this is furthermore the case with all the rest of the jewels - each and every jewel simultaneously and immediately reflects each and every other jewel, ad infinitum. The image of each of these limitless jewels is within one jewel, appearing brilliantly. None of the other jewels interfere with this. When one sits within one jewel, one is simultaneously sitting in all the infinite jewels in all ten directions. How is this so? Because within each jewel are present all jewels. If all jewels are present within each jewel, it is also the case that if you sit in one jewel you sit in all jewels at the same time. The inverse is also understood in the same way. Just as one goes into one jewel and thus enters every other jewel while never leaving this one jewel, so too one enters any jewel while never leaving this particular jewel.

Huayan wujiao zhiguank

This was written by a seventh century master known as Tu-Shun,l founder of the Huayan school of Chinese Buddhism.m Apart from Tu-Shun’s apparent reluctance to engage with the topic of interpenetrating wave packets,n his description comes very close to my experience.

I had been profoundly moved by my Orange Sunshine/cannabis tincture experience but had assumed that it was a private, personal, revelation. To discover that not only was it known, recognized and described in detail a full twelve centuries before my trip, but had even been mentioned centuries before that, led me to wonder. Was the experience universal, available to all meditators, or was it attainable only through psychedelics? If the former, I had stumbled upon a route to the wisdom of the ages; if the latter, this implied that Buddhists of earlier centuries were not merely comfortable with the use of psychedelics but employed them to great effect. Either way, this was thrilling confirmation that I was on the right track and that, if used correctly, psychedelics held the key to deeper spiritual exploration.

Initiations

By the 1970s a few Tibetan lamas had founded centers around Britain and across the country small groups of newly converted “Tibetan” Buddhists would meet regularly to meditate. It was still a minority interest though, and most Buddhist groups were either Theravada or Zen. Those of us who had officially adopted Buddhism in the ceremony of “taking refuge in the triple gem” were given new, Tibetan, names. Some of us also took the five basic vows of a lay practitioner.

One day, Sean, in whose tiny apartment I’d had my first morning glory experience, returned from a trip to India and Nepal. Naturally, I was curious about his experiences in the Himalayas and told him about my becoming a Buddhist. He replied that, although not a Buddhist himself, he’d met several westerners in Nepal who had received what he called “initiations.” We both supposed that they were the same thing as “taking refuge.” It turned out that this was incorrect.

Eventually, high-ranking lamas began to visit London to give initiations into certain “deities.” There was still a lot about the Vajrayāna that mystified me and I hoped these initiations would help clarify matters. Some quite simple issues had no readily available explanation. I was still puzzled as to the significance of its principal symbol, the vajra, which in Sanskrit may mean either “thunderbolt” or “diamond.” Frequently, in iconography and ritual, the vajra is paired with a bell. Why should this be so? A bell is hardly a natural complement for either a thunderbolt or a diamond. Apart from such questions, I was quite fascinated by these “deities” who, I was assured, existed somewhere within my own consciousness (they sounded like Jungian archetypes). It was explained that, in order to study and practice the Buddhist tantric path, one must first be “empowered” in an initiation. Accordingly, I attended every initiation that came along, hoping to glean some vital philosophical or yogic tidbit that would grant me enlightenment—right here, right now.

In each initiation ceremony, we were introduced to a deity, told how to visualize the deity and how to say the deity’s mantra. There are usually four phaseso to each initiation (or “empowerment” as I had learned to call them): in the first, one is given water to drink and in the second, a yellowish, watery liquid called amṛita (Sanskrit for “[elixir of] immortality”), both liquids being received in the palm of one’s hand. By watching the monks, I soon picked up some of the incidental customs, such as wiping my hand on the crown of my head after lapping up the amṛita. The ritual hand gestures took longer to learn, though eventually I even managed to twist all ten fingers into a maṇḍala for the gesture of offering the universe to the officiating guru.

At one empowerment, I was seated next to an obvious first-timer. He seemed unnecessarily nervous and earnestly inquired how much experience I’d had with these “Tibetan initiations.” When I assured him that I’d attended a few, he asked, “What will they make us do?”

“Well, they’re Buddhists so they don’t make you do anything. I think it’s polite to observe the customs, though, bowing and the like.”

“No, I mean to get initiated… What do they make you do?”

I must confess that I wasn’t catching his drift at all but, as luck would have it, it was time for the amṛita and the demands of ritual rescued me from having to formulate a response. Everyone stood and began to file past the monk who was dispensing the elixir with a spoon. I was just about to drink my dose of amṛita when the anxious first-timer addressed me again.

In the palm of his right hand he held a tiny puddle of yellowish fluid which he was regarding with considerable suspicion. “What are we supposed to do we do with… this?” he asked.

“Well… drink it.” I thought this much was obvious. The people ahead of him had already finished theirs and were now dabbing their palms on their crowns.

“But it…,” he began his objection and stopped, then leaned closer to confide his fears in a whisper: “But it looks like… er… pee.”

He had a point; it did look like urine. I sniffed at the yellowish water in my hand. As far as I could tell, it was the same saffron-colored infusion of grains, herbs and grasses we always received. Then it dawned on me that, to this individual, the word “initiation” implied an ordeal of some kind. As with an initiation into a fraternity, he imagined that he would be subjected to something painful, humiliating or disgusting.

Seized by a mischievous impulse, I assumed a straight face, looked him in the eye and said, “Well, what do you know? I believe you could be right.” With a what-the-hey shrug, I proceeded to slurp up my portion with exaggerated enthusiasm and, grinning, wiped a damp hand on my hair.

Of course, that was before I learned more about amṛita and discovered that on certain historical occasions it had indeed been the guru’s urine.

DISCOVERIES ALONG THE WAY

THERE CANNOT BE THE SLIGHTEST DOUBT that the Hindus and probably the Buddhists of earlier days did regard the taking of psychedelic drugs as part of the wide range of sādhanas which lead to enstasy.p

The mythological and iconographical corollary to this is, apart from the personification of soma as the quintessence of all mind-affecting beverages, the frequent epithet of Śiva as the Lord of Herbs (auṣadhīśvara).

The Tantric Tradition⁵

WITH A SINGLE DROP of bDud.rTsi [amṛita]… one becomes pure and immortal, possessed of the five eternal wisdoms… and receives, as a result, the highest enlightenment.

The Vessel of bDud.rTsi⁶

THE FOURTH METHOD of awakening [i.e. enlightenment] is through the use of specific herbs. In Sanskrit it is called aushadhi… knowledge of the herbs is a closely guarded secret…

Kundalini Tantra⁷

BY MERE CONSUMPTION of these pills... [one may] plunder from the Buddhas and enjoy sublime celestial girls. With vajraq eyes one will see as many Buddhas and their pure realms as there are grains of sand in the Ganges...

Māhāmāyā Tantra⁸

A TRADITIONAL TIBETAN DOCTOR in Kathmandu had told me that there are particular mushrooms in Tibet that “bring bliss to the body and realization to the mind.”

The Heart of the World⁹

THERE WAS A CERTAIN SADHAKA who frequented forest glades where he thought there were no other people. When he felt he was in total isolation, he wrapped his siddhi pills in three types of metal and secreted them beneath the roots of a tree… The acarya [Kṛiṣṇācārya] discovered them and steadied his mind. About an hour later, sounds and light spontaneously arose from the pills. When the acarya put them into his mouth he was able to see the realms of the gods and yaksha, and he also found that he could travel to those places in a flash if he wished to.

Life of Kṛiṣṇācārya¹⁰

THE GODS LOVE that which is hinted at darkly and hate that which is uttered directly.

Bṛihadāranyaka Upaniṣad, IV, 2, ii¹¹

THIS IDEA OF PRIMITIVE SECRET SOCIETIES reminds us of the Buddhist [tantra called] Guhya Samāja – the name itself has the same meaning [i.e. “secret society”]. Tantric converts to early Buddhism, although they professed a belief in the Buddha, Dharma and Sangha, they did not give up the traditional beliefs and rituals they used to practice in secret.

History of the Tantric Religion¹²

RECENTLY A WESTERN STUDENT asked her guru whether such practices were still used.

“They’re secret practices,” the learned khenpo replied, “so how can I know?”

The Buddhist Handbook¹³

FIGURE 6. Satellite image of the Indus Valley. At the top right are the snow-capped peaks of the Himalayas; the dark area at bottom left is the Indian Ocean. [Wiki]

______________

a This is a beginner’s mistake. The untrained mind is chaotic. Initially, meditation merely makes us aware of that fact.

b Pat Wilkinson was a slight lady with an ebullient personality. She wore her grey hair cropped short, perhaps in memory of her time as a Theravadan nun. In the late 1920s, she read about Buddhism and, wanting to learn more, she hitchhiked from England to Thailand, eventually being ordained as a nun and spending months meditating in a grass hut in the jungle.

c Sanskrit: Hayagrīva. This is a fairly typical Tibetan mangling of Sanskrit pronunciation.

d This is not true in North America. The deadly Galerina autumnalis not only resembles Psilocybe cyanescens but frequently grows alongside it.

e A solution of hashish in alcohol.

f All such prescriptions came courtesy of the London doctor, Ian Dunbar. In 1969, an English band The Aynsley Dunbar Retaliation released an LP titled Dr. Dunbar’s Prescription, a nod and a wink to this popular doctor.

g In Britain’s pre-decimal currency, a shilling was one twentieth of a pound.

h I am at a loss to explain exactly how I knew that each gem in the matrix was composed only of the reflections within it but, at the time, it was as obvious as the “close-eye visuals” were resplendent.

i The full name of the Avataṃsaka Sūtra is the Mahāvaipulya Buddhāvataṃsaka Sūtra or “The Great Extensive Sutra of the Buddha’s Flower Garland.”

j The original used the Buddhist technical term dharmas for “phenomena.”

k Tu-Shun, “Calming and Contemplation in the Five Teachings” , a scripture of the Chinese Huayan sect of Buddhism.

l Tu-Shun lived 557–640 CE.

m Huáyán, the name of the school, , is a translation into Chinese of the Sanskrit word avataṃsaka (“flower garland”), the Mahāyāna Avataṃsaka Sūtra being central to the school’s philosophy. The school flourished in China during the T’ang dynasty. For a more detailed investigation of Huáyán philosophy, I recommend The Buddhist Teaching of Totality by Garma C. C. Chang (Penn State, 2001).

n As ancient Chinese had no word for “wave packet,” we should probably forgive Tu-Shun for this omission.

o Technically, each of the four phases is an empowerment in its own right.

p “Enstasy”—a neologism for “enlightenment..”

q “Vajra,” Sanskrit for “thunderbolt,” has many symbolic meanings. When it occurs as a prefix to a deity’s name, it indicates that deity is Vajrayāna Buddhist. I leave it to the reader to determine the meaning of “vajra eyes.”

PREHISTORY OF EURASIA

NORTHERN INDIA, 50,000,000 YEARS AGO

INDIA IS OFTEN REFERRED TO AS “the subcontinent” and this title reflects a geological truth. At one time, it was an island continent floating in the Indian Ocean, but tectonic forces caused it to inch slowly northwards. About 50,000,000 years ago, this huge island collided with the continent of Asia, creating a crumple zone we call the Himalayas. And this collision is not yet over. At the initial crunch, the Indian continental plate slid down underneath the Asian plate and has continued to travel 2,000 kilometers northward, doubling the thickness of the earth’s crust. It is the combined buoyancy of the two plates that has raised the Tibetan Plateau (and with it, the Himalayas) to such immense heights. If we think of the Himalayan range as being shaped rather like a smile, then the greatest geological activity is to be found at the corners of the mouth. At each corner (or “syntaxis” as geologists like to call them) mountain ranges are folded double, mountains pile up and are eroded again. Despite this continuous erosion, parts of the Himalayas are growing higher at the alarming rate of 30 millimeters a year.a

From each syntaxis rises a great river, the Brahmaputra in the east and the Indus in the west, both rivers carrying a rich cargo of minerals, silt and nutrients to the ocean, creating the world’s two largest dirt piles, albeit beneath the waves.

PAKISTAN, 7,000 TO 2,500 BC

Situated near Mehrgarh, on the Kachi Plain in the Baluchistan region of modern Pakistan, is one of the earliest sites in the Indian subcontinent to show evidence of arable farming (wheat and barley) and herding (cattle, sheep and goats). The 500-acre site has been known only since 1974 when it was discovered by French archaeologist Jean-François Jarrige.

The earliest Mehrgarh settlement was a small farming village that lasted from 7,000 BCE to 5,500 BCE. It was around 5,500 BCE that the first pottery was made in Mehrgarh. They buried their dead with grave goods such as jewelry (beads, bangles, pendants, etc.) and more utilitarian items such as baskets, stone and bone tools. Occasionally, remains of animal sacrifices are found in graves. This may well have been a religious rite, possibly for a deceased priest or other person of status. With tools of stone and local copper, they made jewelry from sea shells, limestone, turquoise, lapis lazuli, sandstone and polished copper, along with simple terracotta figurines of women (goddesses?) and animals. Beads and ornaments such as these were traded with contemporaneous cultures, ranging from northern Afghanistan, to northeastern Iran and parts of central Asia.

The inhabitants of ancient Mehrgarh lived in houses of mud brick; they stored their grain in granaries, and fashioned tools from local copper ore. They raised barley, einkorn, emmer wheat, jujubes and dates, and herded sheep, goats and cattle. They were a settled, prosperous community that had the leisure and skill to develop such arts as pottery, bead making and, amazingly, dentistry. The oldest (9,000–7,000 BCE) extant evidence for the drilling of teeth in living persons has been found in Mehrgarh.¹⁴ I suppose that as long as you have a few large persons to restrain the patient, it’s not all that different from drilling beads.

Between 2,600 BCE and 2,000 BCE, the population drifted away from Mehrgarh, perhaps to the cities of the Indus Valley Civilization that were then beginning to flourish.

OXUS VALLEY, CENTRAL ASIA (2,300 – 1,700 BCE)

East of the Caspian Sea, to the north of the Hindu Kush and west of the Pamir range, lies the area of the Oxus civilization. It is usually referred to in academic literature by the unlovely name “Bactria-Margiana Archaeological Complex,” or BMAC for short. Unsuspected until the late 1970s, BMAC was discovered by the Soviet archaeologist, Viktor Sarianidi. The earliest, mud-brick dwellings have been dated to around 6,000 BCE but it was in the twenty-third century BCE that they began to erect monumental stone structures and great edifices that may have been palaces or temples.

As one might expect from their masonry, these were a sedentary people. They settled around oases and irrigated their fields of barley and wheat. There were trade links with the Indus Valley as Harappan items have been found here and BMAC artifacts have been discovered in Mohenjo-daro.

It is probable that the original BMAC people were not Indo-European though BMAC culture seems to have influenced the IE migrants through their territory. There is evidence that the later phase of BMAC was infiltrated by Indo-Europeans of the Andronovo culture. The consequent hybrid seems to have been the peoples we call Indo-Iranians.

It has become increasingly clear that if one wishes to argue for Indo-Iranian migrations from the steppe lands south into the historical seats of the Iranians and Indo-Āryans that these steppe cultures were transformed as they passed through a membrane of Central Asian urbanism. The fact that typical steppe wares are found on BMAC sites and that intrusive BMAC material is subsequently found further to the south in Iran, Afghanistan and Pakistan, may suggest then the subsequent movement of Indo-Iranian-speakers after they had adopted the culture of the BMAC.

Encyclopedia of Indo-European Culture¹⁵

This, then, would explain why the Indo-Iranian cultures have distinctive traits not shared with other Indo-European peoples. These traits include fire-worship and the sacramental use of drugs. But even though the Indo-Iranians may have acquired these traditions from BMAC, it seems entirely possible that the fledgling BMAC culture learned of such practices from the Indus Valley people, their prosperous neighbors to the south.

Oxus Valley drugs

Excavations at a BMAC site have turned up evidence of mind-altering plants. Piles of seeds were found that looked like cannabis and a pot was found to contain poppy pollen. Several pots had traces of ephedra, a stimulating plant.¹⁶ The pots were found in an inner room of a structure believed to have been a temple, in association with what seems to have been a fire altar. The leading archaeologist of this site, V. Sarianidi, regards this as a precursor to the haoma cult of Iran and the soma cult of the Vedas. Both religions involved animal sacrifice, a drug and a fire. He suggests that this complex of practices originated with the BMAC culture and was acquired by the Indo-Iranians.

But is it true?

Sarianidi’s findings are not universally accepted. Two independent researchers have declared the “cannabis” seeds to be millet. While there are over two hundred species of poppy, only a handful contain any opiates at all and only the opium poppy (Papaver somniferum) contains opiates in any pharmacologically significant amount. No poppy has psychoactive pollen and there is no pharmacological reason why poppy pollen may have been accumulated.

Also, in the vicinity of BMAC, ephedra is a common plant and, as such, contributes to the composition of the local dust. Anything dusty found thereabouts is likely to have trace quantities of ephedrine, an amphetamine alkaloid which takes its name from the ephedra plant. Finally, many buildings other than temples have inner rooms. An inner room is not necessarily an “inner sanctum” and a fire-pit is more likely to be a feature of a kitchen than a “fire altar.” Perhaps the poppy pollen had a culinary use, as poppy seeds do today.

Cultural diffusion

That being said, the idea that the Indo-Iranians may have picked up the haoma and soma cults from the BMAC is certainly attractive as it offers an explanation for one of the traits which distinguishes the Indo-Iranians from the rest of the Indo-Europeans—the sacrifice-drug-fire cultus. Doubtless, the Indo-Iranians’ earliest acquaintance with this kind of ritual came from their encounters with the BMAC. That does not, however, mean that the entire soma/haoma complex originated with the BMAC although the fire element certainly may have. Other elements of the BMAC ritual may have their ultimate origins in the Indus Valley…

In the adjoining room of the same inner sanctum were found ten ceramic pot-stands which appear to have been used in conjunction with strainers designed to separate the juices from the twigs, stems and leaves of the plants. In another room at the other end of the shrine a basin containing remains of a considerable quantity of cannabis was discovered, as well as a number of pottery stands and strainers that have also been associated with making psychoactive beverages.

Encyclopedia of Psychoactive Substances¹⁷

Another such strainer has been found at a BMAC site which dates from around 1,500 BCE. These strainers are remarkably suggestive of the ceramic strainers found in the Indus Valley and which formed part of the “cult object” of the Harappan seals. Prof. Mahadevan, as we shall see later, believes that the “cult objects” were used to strain soma.

There is evidence of trade between the early phases of BMAC with the Indus Valley cities, especially through an Indus Valley outpost in northern Afghanistan. It would appear that the “crushing and straining a drug” part of the soma/haoma ceremonies originated in the Indus Valley, even if the fire-worship component came from the BMAC, though the issue of which drugs were used when and where is a matter of considerable debate.

Richard Rudgley opines that this discovery has settled the question of the identity of haoma, the Iranian sacrament, even though he claims it must have been two concoctions, one being compounded of cannabis and ephedra, the other, opium and ephedra. (Presumably, the stimulating ephedra would counteract the soporific qualities of the other two drugs.) Part of Rudgley’s argument is that the fire temples of the BMAC culture predate those of Iran by a thousand years. But surely, the ceramic strainers of the Harappan civilization predate those of the BMAC itself by the same distance in time. The prototype for both haoma and soma may, therefore, have been the “Indus Valley sacrament.”

CENTRAL ASIA (3,000 BCE)

Similarities in language and myth, first pointed out by Parsons and Jones, are evidence that the far-flung peoples of Europe, Persia and northern India are descended from a single ancestral stock who spoke a common language and worshipped the same gods. Not knowing what this ancient race called themselves, modern scholars call them the “proto-Indo-Europeans.”

It is now believed that these people lived on the Russian steppes, near the Caspian Sea, in wattle and daub huts where they grew grain, raised cattle, pigs, sheep, goats, and a local animal they had domesticated, the horse. They had lived there for thousands of years riding ox carts and eating boiled horsemeat, when someone tried using horses to pull wagons. Another crucial innovation was the invention of the spoked wheel. After the first horse-drawn wagons, it was only a short step to the light, maneuverable chariot (no one had yet learned to ride on horseback). Around 5,000 years ago, these people, armed with this devastating new battle system, began their horse-powered expansion. The speed and agility of the new, horse-drawn transport gave the proto-Indo-Europeans a technological advantage that resulted in their colonization of Europe, Asia Minor, Central Asia and northern India.

Even before his work on the Indo-European languages, Sir William Jones had spotted the kinship of some Indian gods to those of classical antiquity and suggested a common origin. He explained it in his address to the annual meeting of the Asiatick Society in 1785, entitled Gods of Greece, Italy, and India. We will now explore some of that territory that Sir William Jones discovered.

Indo-European gods

The following table lists four Vedic deities, three gods and a goddess, along with their European counterparts. The similarities of their names should be obvious.

Even more similarities become apparent when we consider that a Greek initial |h| frequently corresponds to a Latin or Sanskrit |s|. Compare, for instance, the words for “six,” “seven,” and “snake” in Latin (sex, septem, serpens) and Sanskrit (ṣad, sapta, sarpa) with their Greek equivalents (hex, hepta, herpes). Also, it is well known in linguistics that an |l| may turn into an |r| and vice versa. Armed with these facts, it is easy to see how Helios is, essentially, the same as Surya and Sol.

Another less than obvious parallel is the Roman god Jupiter (or Jupitter). When his name is revealed to be ju pater, from an earlier dio pittar (literally, “god the father”), we can easily see the similarity to Dyaus and Tiwas. This latter god (also known as Tiw or Tir) was the original sky god of the northern Europeans and was displaced in later myths by Odin/Woden. We still remember him every week on Tiw’s day. If you can’t quite remember where you heard of a dawn goddess called Eostre before, let me remind you that Easter takes its name from her festival in early spring.

Many other deities with names related to those of Indian gods are to be found in Iranian, Hittite, Norse, Celtic and Slavic pantheons. The water god called Apam Napat (“water’s nephew”) who appears in both Hindu and Persian myth brings to mind Neptunus, the Roman water god who has “nephew” (Latin nepos, nepot-, as in “nepotism”) in his name.

According to Indian myth, Manu was the first man and gave his name to the Vedic legal code, the Laws of Manu. Surely, this is the same person as Mannus, legendary founder of the German race. Also, the Celts of ancient Gaul worshiped a deity called Ario-manus. He has a counterpart in the Indian god Aryaman. Further confirmation that all these myths had a single origin is evident from recurrent themes of Indian, Persian and European mythology. These include cattle raids such as the Táin Bó Cúailnge (“Cattle-Raid of Cooley”) of Irish legend, horse-riding twins, and a final battle.

The horse-twin theme is an odd one. What is the connection between twins and horses? Perhaps an equicentric culture would especially prize twin foals and this was somehow transferred to the riders. One can only hazard a guess. What is certain is that a pair of semi-divine, twin horsemen is a curiously consistent feature of Indo-European mythology. To the ancient Greeks they were the Dioscuri (literally, “the sons of Zeus”¹⁸). Even if these two are not recognized by name (in Greek, Kastor and Polydeukes; in Latin, Castor and Pollux), they are known to all readers of newspaper horoscopes as the “twins” (Latin, Gemini) of the zodiac. Their equivalents in Vedic India were the Asvins (literally, “horsemen”). In Irish myth, Macha gave birth to twins after competing in a horse race and, according to Anglo-Saxon legend, the first Englishmen were twin brothers with the unlikely names of Hengist and Horsa (Old English for “stallion” and “horse”).

As for the apocalyptic battles, we may compare the Battle of Kurukṣetra of Indian myth, Ireland’s Second Battle of Mag Tured and the Norse Ragnarøk, to name but three. Also, on the martial front, most Indo-European mythologies tell of a war between the gods and another race of equally powerful beings. These anti-gods, whether the titans of Greece, the daevas of Persia or the asuras of Indian legend, may be a mythologized account of resistance by the various indigenous peoples who were overrun by Indo-European settlers. But, while the Greek gods had just the titans to contend with, the Āryans seem to have had several opponents. The Ṛig Veda and its commentaries speak of several groupings of anti-gods. There were the dasyus, danavas, daityas, nāgas, and asuras, all of whom were antagonistic to the devas, the gods of the Āryans. Thus, the Vedic references to these various races of anti-gods might well be mythologized accounts of hostile encounters with several distinct indigenous groups.

From their homeland in Central Asia, the proto-Indo-Europeans spread out in all directions except due north. To the west, bands of Celts and Teutons occupied northern Europe while the Hellenes displaced the Mycenaean culture in Greece. The Tocharians migrated northeast to the central Asian oases of Khotan where they flourished until the Taklimakanb desert engulfed their territory in the seventh century CE. One branch, the Hittites, invaded the Middle East while another went north and east to the far side of the Caspian Sea where they prospered as the culture we know as Andronovo. Eventually the Andronovans migrated south into what is now Afghanistan and from there into Iran and Pakistan. It is this latter group which most concerns us as it is the one which, in the third millennium BCE, crossed the Khyber Pass into the northern plains of India.

NORTHWESTERN INDIA (C. 2,500 BCE)

The Āryans were once thought to have invaded the Indus Valley with military force and destroyed the cities they found there. In fact, they arrived a couple of centuries after the collapse of the Indus Valley civilization, but probably encountered remnants of the Indus Valley people. In contrast to the dark-skinned Dravidians, the newcomers were fair-skinned, and their language, an early form of Sanskrit, was unlike anything previously spoken in India.

Āryan society, like other branches of the Indo-European people, was initially divided into three castes, but upon settling in India they met an indigenous people of a totally different culture. These were the “dasyus,” referred to in the Vedas, “enemies of gods and men,”¹⁹ who came to form a fourth, “untouchable,” caste.

By contrast, the invaders called themselves ārya (Sanskrit for “noble”) and because of this, we call them Āryans. It should be made quite clear, however, that this usage has very little connection with the Nazi notion of Nordic “Aryans”— a flagrant misuse of the name. It is indeed ironic that Hitler’s symbol of “Aryan” identity, the swastika, predates the Āryan invasion of India. While the name, swastika does come from Sanskrit, the Āryans’ language, (from su-vasti-kara, roughly “good luck symbol”) there is no evidence that they used it prior to their incursion into India. In fact, the shape had already been used by the Indus Valley civilization (i.e. the hated, non-Āryan dasyus) and is often found on Harappan seals.

INDUS VALLEY, INDIA/PAKISTAN (4,000 TO 2,300 BCE)

About 6,500 years ago, during the Bronze Age, the broad, fertile floodplain of the Indus River was home to one of the most advanced societies of its time. Evidence of several small population centers has been found throughout the Indus Valley and beyond, but the jewels of this civilization were its two great cities, remains of which were found at Mohenjo-daro, on the banks of the Indus River, and Harappa, on the Ravi. The names Mohenjo-daro and Harappa are those of the closest modern towns to these sites. We have no way of knowing what these cities were called by their inhabitants, but the culture probably called itself something like “Meluhha,” as this was the Sumerian word for the area. I cannot help wondering whether this might be the origin of the Sanskrit mleccha (“foreigner, barbarian”), the term used for any non-Āryan race.

Unlike all other cities of the ancient world, those of the Indus Valley seem to have been carefully planned from their inception, with streets arranged in an orderly, rectangular grid. Each brick-built house had its own bathroom, a supply of fresh water and a drain that was connected to the municipal sewer. Such a feat of urban planning might be unremarkable today, but all this was accomplished 500 years before Stonehenge and a thousand years before the first Egyptian pyramid. Unfortunately, much valuable information about Harappa was lost in the nineteenth century when the bricks of its houses were recycled to create the bed of a railroad. The bricks were so well-formed that the engineers assumed they were of relatively recent manufacture.

The inhabitants of the Indus Valley were a peaceful people; their defensive walls were built against floods, not invading armies. At least part of the population was literate, the most common artifact discovered at archaeological sites being personal seals which bear inscriptions in a set of symbols which has yet to be deciphered. As the average length of an inscription is only five symbols, they probably represent names or titles; but without a lengthy text or bilingual inscription, the problem seems insoluble. These small intaglio signets show that they raised and traded in cattle and that they held “bull-fights.” That is, they performed acrobatic stunts over the backs of bulls, rather like the scenes shown in Minoan murals. Their artisans made fine pottery and graceful bronzes. All the houses were approximately equal in size, no palaces have been found and no caches of gold or jewelry. They had at least one port.

Most scholars assume that the people of the Indus Valley were a dark-skinned, curly-haired people who spoke a Dravidian language similar to those spoken in southern India today. Some linguists have even proposed grouping the ancient Sumerian tongue with the Dravidian languages of southern India in a language supergroup called Elamo-Dravidian. Whether or not they were related to the Sumerians, they were certainly connected with Mesopotamia by trade as Indus Valley beads and other artifacts have been found in Iraq.

Harappan Religion

While there is no evidence of kings or autocratic rulers, many of the seals show priests (often naked priests worshiping naked gods), so it has been suggested that their religion was the cohesive factor in this complex and extensive culture.²⁰ Their dead were buried with pots which, although always empty when excavated, may have originally contained food for the afterlife. They made many earthenware images of a female figure wearing an elaborate headdress. This may have been a priestess or goddess. Earthenware figures have been found with soot stains on the front, suggesting that they had oil lamps placed in front of them. Some of their clay seals show what appears to be a god or priest, sitting in a yoga posture, with either horns or a horned headdress, surrounded by animals. It has even been claimed that this god/priest is an early depiction of the god Śiva or that he is a man practicing yoga. Both of these are intriguing suggestions, but any perceived link between the culture of the Indus Valley and more modern expressions of Hinduism are highly unlikely, given the absence of further evidence from the intervening millennia.

It is noteworthy that, as yet, nothing resembling a temple has been found. It has been suggested that, like modern Hindus, the Indus Valley people practiced their religion in the home.²¹ There is also the possibility that, like modern sadhus and yogins, they practiced their religion out of doors, in the cow fields.

The most common subjects for personal seals were a single-horned creature that archaeologists have dubbed “the unicorn” and a strange object with apparent religious significance known as “the cult object.” I should point out that the unicorn is always shown in profile; so, the possibility remains that it depicts a normal, two-horned animal with one horn hidden (although admittedly, all four legs are shown). Perhaps, it is a composite of several animals. Somewhat like an elongated bull, it lacks the hump which is characteristic of Indian cattle and the folds on its fore-parts resemble the “armor-plating” of the rhinoceros. Professor Mahadevan has made some very interesting observations regarding the so-called “cult object” that appears on many Harappan seals.²² After examining examples of these objects on “more than a thousand unicorn seals,” he concluded that the “object” is a filter. More specifically, he has identified certain seals as showing drops of liquid falling from the filter.

Some artifacts of ceramic and one of ivory found at archaeological sites in the Indus Valley have been identified as the “colander” portion of the “cult object.” Professor Mahadevan has expressed the opinion that what was filtered was either the sacred drug soma or its local equivalent. As may be imagined, this hypothesis presents certain problems to the prevailing theories of soma. These will be addressed later when we discuss the religion of the Āryans.

Harappan Drugs

The well-known psychedelic mushroom, Psilocybe cubensis, is indigenous to India where it grows on the dung of several species, most typically that of cattle. It would be surprising if the people of the Indus Valley civilization, a culture that had spent hundreds, if not thousands, of years raising cattle, were not aware of this mushroom and its psychoactivity. At least one community in modern India (the Santal tribe, of Bihar State) claims to be aware of a psychoactive mushroom which grows on cow dung.²³ There is one species native to India that answers this description and that is: Ps. cubensis. The smaller, but exceptionally potent, species Panaeolus cambodginiensis grows only on the dung of the water buffalo.²⁴ One other mushroom species known to contain psilocybin is found in northern India and that is Ps. semilanceata which grows saprophytically on mats of decaying rye grass. Ps. semilanceata is reported to be “moderately active to extremely potent.”²⁵ Another possible species is Ps. kashmiriensis, the psychoactivity of which is unknown.²⁶ Interestingly, Ps. kashmiriensis saprophytizes stands of lemon grass (Cymbopogon jawarancus) so it should be familiar, if only by sight, to any culture which gathers that herb.

In their long, stable occupation of northwestern India, the Indus Valley people undoubtedly discovered the medicinal virtues of many of the wild plants available to them. We may confidently assume that they were also aware of psychoactive plants such as the tranquilizing snake-root (Rauwolfia serpentina), the deliriant datura (Datura metel) and the slightly sedative but powerfully psychedelic climbing plant Hawaiian baby woodrose (Argyreia nervosa).

Harappan Collapse

The civilization of Harappa and the other Indus Valley cities lasted about two thousand years, then fell into decline and disappeared around 4,500 years ago. The very same tectonic processes that had raised the Himalayas, creating the Indus River and its fertile valley, now raised the seabed, slowing the flow of the Indus and causing frequent, catastrophic floods. Agriculture suffered due to waterlogged, brackish soil and the cities underwent rapid population increase as they took in refugees from the floodplain. Already deprived of their agrarian base, the cities’ downfall was hastened by this overpopulation. In its final phase, the once great metropolis of Mohenjo-daro was abandoned by all but a handful of families. Finally, after a massacre by an invading tribe, it was abandoned entirely.²⁷

Over the centuries that followed, the brick-built cities of the Indus Valley civilization crumbled, leaving us few clues to their everyday life. Most informative is the art on their elegant pottery and intriguing clay seals. This art shows that they kept several kinds of domesticated animal including cattle, sheep and goats. However, there is not a single depiction of a horse from this period. Horses arrived a few centuries after the demise of the Indus Valley civilization. They came with the Āryans, invaders from the North, whose priests used a sacred drug called soma.

ĀRYAN RELIGION – THE VEDAS

Between 2,000 and 1,500 BCE, a group of Āryan poet-priests composed a body of ritual verse known as the Ṛig Veda. A significant number of its hymns sing the praises of soma, a psychoactive potion that was made and consumed during a ritual sacrifice. Using 108 bricks, a hearth was constructed in the shape of a bird, within which priests would build a fire. An animal, tethered to a post, was beheaded and the main part of the ritual began. The priests would lay out a leather mat and place upon it two circular grinding-stones. A certain plant was crushed between these stones with an admixture of milk or water to make an inebriating drink. A little of the drink was offered to the flames and the rest was consumed by the priests. As this process allows no time for fermentation, we must infer that soma (also called amṛita “[elixir of] immortality”) was a decoction of a psychoactive plant, and not in any way alcoholic. Alcohol was certainly known to the Āryans but it was allowed only to members of the kṣatriya, the caste of warriors and kings.

As for the three later Vedas, the Sama Veda consists of the soma hymns from the Ṛig Veda with some additional prose. The Yajur Veda is also derived from the Ṛig Veda, with its hymns rearranged for ritual recitation. For reasons now lost, there arose two, entirely different, versions of the Yajur, known as the “White” and “Black” Yajur Vedas, both of which have its devoted adherents.

These three collections of hymns and prose, the Ṛig, Sama and Yajur Vedas are referred to in the Laws of Manu (an early Āryan code of ethics) as “the three Vedas.” However, another Veda, the Atharva Veda was added later. Some (roughly one-sixth) of the Atharva is based on the Ṛig Veda. but there is much which is original to this Veda and it has its own distinctive style. As one Victorian scholar observed:

In the [three earlier Vedas], the gods are approached with reverential awe indeed, but with love and confidence also; the demons embraced under the general name Rakshasa are objects of horror whom the gods ward off and destroy; the divinities of the Atharva are regarded rather with a kind of cringing fear, as powers whose wrath is to be deprecated and whose favour is to be curried, for it knows a whole host of imps and hobgoblins, in ranks and classes, and addresses itself to them directly, offering them homage to induce them from doing harm. The Mantra prayer, which in the older Veda is the instrument of devotion, is here the tool of superstition; it wrings from the unwilling hands of the gods the favours which of old their good-will to men induced them to grant…²⁸

We see that verses of the Vedas are known as mantra but that this word takes on a different meaning in the later Veda as these verses are used as spells for the coercion of benign forces and subjugation of the malign. We shall return to the subject of mantra (but with yet another meaning and function) later, in the context of tantra.

Despite the modern Hindu trend to view the Vedas as the wellspring of all South Asian spirituality, they lack the truly profound philosophy of later developments such as the Upaniṣads. Other than poetic observations on the grandeur and magnificence of cosmic events (such as the sunrise) there is nothing transcendent in these verses. This is essentially the same religion with the same mundane concerns (more cattle, faster horses, prettier wives, better luck at dice) as its sister religions in Greece and Rome. In fact, as we noted earlier, their gods were, fundamentally, the same ones we learned of in European mythologies, though they did have some local peculiarities. For instance, the Āryan gods were sometimes called “friends of amṛita.”²⁹

Varuna

God of ethics and cosmic order, Varuna is the Āryan equivalent of the Greek Ouranos and Roman Uranus. He is also lord of the waters. Perhaps this is why he carries an umbrella.

Indra

More hymns of the Ṛig Veda are addressed to Indra, king of the gods, than to any other deity. Not only king of the gods, Indra is the deified sky, ruling all celestial and atmospheric phenomena. Like his Greek counterpart, Zeus, his weapon is a thunderbolt (Skt. vajra) made for Indra by Kāvya Uśanas, his celestial soma drinking buddy. As lord of the atmosphere, Indra governs the weather and dispenses rain. The ancient Greek historian Strabo described the Indians as worshiping Zeus Ombrios (“Zeus the rain-bringer”). No doubt he had been listening to travelers’ tales of Indra.

Indra’s eternal enemy is Vṛitra, otherwise known as Ahi (“the snake”), whom he subjugates with his thunderbolts. Ancient Vedic commentaries offer two explanations for Vṛitra: (a) that he is a demon and (b) that he represents the monsoon clouds which hold on to the rain until forced to disgorge it by Indra. He also released the cows which the Panis (another indigenous group?) had hidden in the cave of Vala. But before embarking on either task, Indra first quaffed copious amounts of soma.

Indra is often called somapati (“lord of soma”) and it is even said that he drank soma within an hour of his birth. It would seem that this god drinks soma before doing anything. Indeed, his very name has been derived from indhu “a drop [of soma]” but that is only one of several suggestions.

Over a decade before his work on soma, R. Gordon Wasson published a paper on the worldwide belief that mushrooms are engendered by thunderstorms.³⁰ That being the case, Indra, as wielder of thunderbolts (i.e. lightning) was the god who caused mushrooms to sprout. Specifically, it was believed in India that the sound of the thunder caused mushrooms to appear.c In fact, it has recently been discovered that electrical discharges, such as lightning, while they may not actually cause mushrooms to appear, do significantly increase yields in commercial mushroom farming.³¹

FIGURE 7. Indra, the soma-lord, sits upon his flying elephant, holding “an umbrella.” Nepali drawing. [Chandra]

In the fourth century CE, the great Indian poet Kalidaśa composed his poem The Cloud-Messenger (Skt. meghadūta). In it, a yakṣa (a kind of subterranean, supernatural being, something like a gnome) has been exiled to the far South and, seeing a monsoon cloud drifting north, begs it to carry a message. He tells the cloud how excited the people will be to see it:

When they eagerly hear thy sweet-sounding, fertilizing thunder, which can cover the ground with mushrooms…

The Cloud-Messenger³²

A myth tells how “hare” was thrown onto the moon by Indra, where he can be seen to this day (in the Orient they see the hare, not the “man in the moon”). If you look carefully you can see him too. He stands beneath a camphor tree, pounding drugs in a mortar to make amṛita for the gods.

Aditī

Aditī (“boundless”), Indra’s mother, had earrings which dripped amṛita. When she is portrayed as the “cosmic cow,” it is said that her udders give soma, rather than milk.³³ This is especially noteworthy given that the psychedelic mushroom Psilocybe cubensis typically grows from a substrate of cow dung.

Soma

The sacred elixir of the fire sacrifice was so highly revered that it was addressed as a god. He is called “child of the thunder-storm”³⁴ which reinforces the suggestion that soma was a mushroom. In Vedic thought, the moon was the “cup of soma” which wanes as the gods drink from it. Presumably, while the moon is waxing, during that half of the month when the “cup” is being refilled, either the gods refrain from quaffing or the hare works overtime.

Rudra

With a name that could be interpreted as “The Howler,” Rudra is the wild man of the Vedic pantheon. Another equally valid take on his name would be “The Reddish (or Tawny) One.” He is:

Lord of Soma juice… coloured blue and red…

White Yajur Veda, XVI, 47³⁵

He is also called “The Archer” (Skt. śarva), the cosmic archer with fire-tipped arrows. According to legend, Brahma, the creator was about to copulate with his own daughter. The other gods were aghast at this and created Rudra to slay Brahma. Brahma and his daughter changed into deer but Rudra shot them with his fiery arrows. The slain deer became a constellation in Indian astronomy (mṛiga, “the deer”) and Rudra took the deer’s hide as a shawl. Despite being shot by Rudra, this was not the end of the immortal god Brahma. There seems to be a long-running antipathy between these two deities. In another myth, Śiva (as Rudra later became known) decapitated Brahma and was cursed with having Brahma’s head stick to his hand. Some seals from the Indus Valley show a horned, tailed figure with bow and arrows. Could this be a Harappan precursor to Rudra?

FIGURE 8. Moon-hare (lower right) offers a plant (lin chi?) to Chinese goddess of immortality, Hsi Wang Mu (“Queen of the West”). She sits on a tiger-throne beneath a mushroom-like canopy. Note also the sun-raven on the left and a frog or toad dances in the foreground. Chinese print. [Chandra]

Like Indra, Rudra is said to have one thousand eyes but, in even closer congruence with the fly agaric mushroom, Rudra is said to be “the red-colored [one] with a thousand eyes.”³⁶ And even though he “takes aim, with a thousand eyes and a thousand arrows,”³⁷ he is not simply destructive as he is also the physician of the gods. In one hand, he holds a bow and his lethal, flame-tipped arrows; in the other he has a pitcher containing the remedy for all ills.

It has been suggested³⁸ that Rudra is a Dravidian deity acquired by the Āryans after their arrival in India. Indus Valley seals sometimes show an archer with horns and a tail. Could this possibly be a proto-Rudra? He is frequently equated to Agni (“fire”) and to the god Soma:

Homage to Soma and to Rudra,
Homage to the copper-coloured and to the ruddy one.

White Yajur Veda, XVI, 39³⁹

Given the close linkage between Rudra and soma, and Parpola’s hypothesis that Rudra originated in the Indus Valley, we must consider the possibility that soma also had its origin there. Related to Rudra are his “mind-born sons,” the rudras, sometimes said to be eleven in number. Like Rudra himself, they are called “archers” (Skt. śarva). They are described as dwarfish, misshapen, and with a thousand eyes. And there are lots of them:

Innumerable thousands are the Rudras on the face of earth…

White Yajur Veda, XVI, 54⁴⁰

They are subterranean:

Śarvas haunt realms beneath the earth…

White Yajur Veda, XVI, 57⁴¹

They are white and blue:

Rudras… whose necks are blue, whose throats are white…

White Yajur Veda, XVI, 56⁴²

But also red:

May he… whose neck is azure, and whose hue is red…
Homage to the azure-necked, the thousand-eyed, the bountiful,

White Yajur Veda, XVI, 7⁴³

And they are visible to the observant:

He whom the herdsmen and the girls who carry water have beheld, may he when seen be kind to us.
Yea, and his spirit ministers – to them I offer reverence.

White Yajur Veda, XVI, 7⁴⁴

Thus, the White Yajur Veda tells that rudras are numerous, they are red, they have blue necks and white throats while some are said to have a “purple hue.” We must ask ourselves, do these descriptors apply equally to all rudras, or are there several kinds? On the one hand, we have the singular Rudra, a god, and on the other, the plural rudras. Clearly there is a connection and yet, equally clearly, they are not the same thing at all. Could it be that Rudra the god was imagined to be the intangible essence, the Platonic ideal, of the myriad physical rudras?

There is an unexplained association between Rudra and the number eleven. Of the thirty-three gods who live on the cosmic axial mountain, Mount Meru, one third (i.e. eleven) are said to be rudras. In Indian astrology, Rudra rules the eleventh lunar mansion (it is called Bhava, “existence,” one of Rudra’s names). The number eleven accompanies Rudra through his later transformation into (or assimilation with) the Puranic god Śiva and even survives into Buddhism. For instance, the patron deity of Tibet is an eleven-headed form of Avalokiteśvara who, as we shall see later, is a Buddhist version of Rudra/Śiva.

It is quite remarkable how many attributes of the Vedic Rudra persisted through his eventual transformation into the Buddhist deity Avalokiteśvara, especially considering the time span of over two thousand years. Avalokiteśvara has Rudra’s blue throat, his bow and arrow, his antelope skin shawl and his flask of medicine. In fact, when Avalokiteśvara was imported into Chinese Buddhism, many features of this deity were lost (he even changed his sex) but the flask was retained – Kuan Yin (as s/he is known in China) is rarely seen without her flask of medicine.

ĀRYAN DRUGS

According to the Āryan priests (Skt. brahmaṇa, English “brahmin”), the plant juice that they drank during their fire rituals was the very same soma (“juice”) that gave their gods immortality. Thousands of miles away, the Greeks believed that their gods derived their immortality from drinking nektar and eating ambrosia. It has been assumed, therefore, that the priests of the ancestral proto-Indo-Europeans ritually drank a psychoactive potion, believed to be an elixir of immortality, which was remembered by various descendant communities as haoma, soma and nektar. This notion of the widespread use of psychoactive sacraments among Indo-European communities has been brought into question by Prof. Mahadevan, who states that we know of only two such traditions: those of soma in Vedic India and haoma in Iran.

As in other Indo-European societies, the priestly caste of the Āryans claimed access to divine power by means of ritual. Given the crucial role of horses in the Indo-European expansion, it is hardly surprising that the pre-eminent and most elaborate ritual was a horse sacrifice called the aśvamedha (“horse sacrifice”). This extravagantly expensive ceremony was performed (by four priests for more than a year) on behalf of kings who imagined that they would gain power and authority by its means. Indeed, it was claimed that were a king able to sponsor one hundred of these rituals, he would be able to unseat Indra himself from the throne of heaven. There is no record of such an extravagant sacrifice ever having been performed, but it does sound remarkably like the “hecatomb” sacrifice of ancient Greece and Rome wherein a hundred oxen were slaughtered.

The rite began with the selection of one of the king’s most prized stallions. This horse was then allowed to roam at large for an entire year while being followed by the king’s courtiers who removed any mares from the stallion’s path. At the end of the year, the stallion was suffocated and the king’s favorite wife would simulate sexual intercourse with its corpse (tastefully, though… under a blanket) while male courtiers stood around making lewd and obscene remarks. Finally, the horse’s body was cooked, its meat divided in three (for the three castes) and shared among the tribe along with other cooked meats.

Other examples of horse sacrifice are to be found throughout Indo-European culture (e.g. the Roman October Equus). As late as the twelfth century CE, the coronations of the kings of Ulster featured a ritual with many parallels to the aśvamedha. In this case, though, a contemporary account states that the would-be king actually copulated with a horse.⁴⁵ As in the aśvamedha, the horse flesh was boiled and distributed but only after the new king had bathed in a tub of its broth.

A strange connection between horses and sacred drugs may be found in the story of Zephyros, Greek god of the west wind, who was said to have made his horses immortal by giving them ambrosia to eat and nectar to drink, though this may easily be seen as a metaphor for the ceaseless (i.e. immortal) nature of the wind. In a subsequent chapter, we will consider the story of the Indian alchemist Vyāli who, having discovered the secret of the elixir of immortality, made his wife and his horse immortal, too. At the other extreme of the Indo-European world, an echo of aśvamedha may be found in a personal name from ancient Gaul: Epomeduos or “horse-mead.”

FIGURE 9. Fly agaric, the classic red-and-white mushroom, familiar from children’s book illustrations. [Wiki] See also Plate 1.

Although the Āryans had many profound effects on the culture of India, such as the introduction of the caste system and the use of Sanskrit as a sacred language, few of the Vedic gods are still worshiped and the old sacrifices are rarely held. Even in ancient times, the frequency of sacrifices declined as horses became scarce. By 500 BCE the value of priestly ritual was openly doubted and new religious movements (no doubt at the time they would have been thought of as anti-religious movements) begin to emerge: the profound and subtle philosophies of Vedanta, the nonviolence of Jainism, the compassion and wisdom of Buddhism and the down-to-earth simplicity of the Ājivakas. These new religions rejected the magic verses and ritual gestures of the priests as meaningless and offered instead spiritual paths based upon individual motivation and effort.

Around the same time, the great Indian epics were composed and collections of myth and legend called purāṇas (“ancient [tales]”) began to be compiled. These legends feature previously unheard-of gods: dark-skinned deities (including a blue-skinned flautist who seduces cowgirls), ten different mother goddesses and a menagerie of divine animals: monkey, turtle, horse, and boar, all with their own legends.

It is unlikely that these complex cycles of myth, with all their many variants, originated during this period when they were first given written form. In all probability, they represent indigenous Indian oral traditions, already ancient when the Āryans arrived, newly dusted off and retold in the Āryan language, Sanskrit.

From the advent of the purāṇas to the present day, the three great gods of Hinduism have been Brahma the creator, Vishnu the all-pervading preserver, and Śiva, a drug-using, ascetic/hedonist who destroys universes. From this point onward, Agni, Soma and the other Vedic deities play greatly diminished, almost insignificant, roles. There are some curious exceptions, however. The great god Vishnu, for instance, began as a minor aspect of the Vedic sun god and the all-powerful, destructive goddess Kālī may have originated as one of seven named tongues of flame in the sacrificial fire. The once great Vedic gods Varuna, Agni, Soma and their peers are now relegated to representing the points of the compass in various lists of “eight directional gods,” the dikpālas.

One of the pivotal myths of this next phase of Hinduism is the “churning of the ocean” which describes how the gods and demons collaborated to make soma. It is sufficiently important for us to examine it in some detail in a later chapter.

______________

a If that doesn’t sound impressive, think of it as ten feet every century.

b The very name of this desert is a testament to its perilous nature. Taklimakan is Turkic for “You go in; you don’t come out.”

c A similar folk belief has been reported from France where it is said that thunder causes truffles (sclerotia of a subterranean fungus) to grow.

SOME SOMA THEORIES

THE DEBATE

THE AGNI-HOTRA IS STILL occasionally performed and during this ceremony, a form of soma-pavamana is prepared and consumed. The brahmin priests remain entirely sober throughout, however, as the modern soma is no longer psychoactive. The plant it is made from is Asclepius acidum, a vine with no detectable psychoactivity. It has been obvious for some time that this cannot be the soma-pavamana spoken of in such exalted terms in the Ṛig Veda.

There was considerable scholarly debate in the latter half of the nineteenth century regarding the identity of the original soma plant but most authorities assumed that soma was some kind of alcoholic brew and, lacking hard evidence, the controversy petered out.

By the twentieth century, apart from occasional crackpottery in the letters columns of learned journals, the issue was no longer discussed. Then, in the mid-1950s, R. Gordon Wasson, a New York bank executive, and his wife, both amateur mushroom enthusiasts, took a fungus-foraging vacation in Mexico. In particular, they were following up reports of a vision-inducing mushroom used in Oaxaca. While there, they located the mushroom species, Psilocybe mexicana, and partook of it in a session conducted by a local healer, Maria Sabina.

As the effects seemed similar to what he had heard of LSD, Wasson sent samples of the species to Albert Hofmann, LSD’s discoverer for analysis. Hofmann determined that the active principles were the previously unknown alkaloids: psilocin and psilocybin. Up to this point, the only known psychoactive mushroom was fly agaric, Amanita muscaria. This latter, with its bright red cap and white spots, is familiar to most of us from illustrations of children’s stories even if we have not seen it growing in the wild.

Fly agaric

A decade later in his monumental work Soma: Divine Mushroom of Immortality, Wasson made the claim that soma, the sacred plant of ancient India, was fly agaric. In several books and articles, he defended his position against its detractors. At the same time, he tentatively proposed a hypothesis that ancient entheogen use was the ultimate source of all ecstatic religion. Wasson presented several arguments for Amanita muscaria being the soma-plant, the chief of which are:

•Although soma is a “plant,” no leaves, roots or branches are mentioned in the Vedas. Some Vedic synonyms for soma suggest a mushroom.

•The Ṛig Veda describes the soma-plant as “tawny.”

•The Ṛig Veda mentions urine in connection with soma.

The fact that the Vedas have no mention of soma’s leaves, roots or branches is, on the face of it, a fairly weak argument. Yet, given the Vedas’ extensive use of poetic trope, if soma were a vascular plant one would expect it to be addressed as “many-leaved,” “slender-branched,” “stout-stemmed” or something of that nature.

The term aja ekapad (“not-born, one-foot”) is used in the Ṛig Veda and is understood to be a poetic synonym for lightning. To Wasson, the phrase suggested a mushroom, which springing up mysteriously without visible seed, could be said to be “not-born.” Also, if thought of in anthropomorphic terms, its stipe (stem) could be conceived of as its “one foot.” Conversely, as the word aja (“not-born”) is the same as aja which means “goat,” the term aja ekapad could be translated as “one-legged goat.” Surprising as it may seem, this is the conventional translation even though it seems to make far less sense than Wasson’s suggestion.

While the main topic of the Ṛig Veda is soma and the fire ritual, it is also filled with references to the weather, especially storms, clouds and rain, hence the many references to lightning. This might lead one to suspect that the monsoons are, in some causal manner, connected with the soma-plant. Could it be that, in India, it grows only after the monsoons, as is the case with mushrooms?

The Ṛig Veda describes the soma-plant with the Sanskrit color-word hari. This rather vague term is asserted by Wasson to encompass a range of colors from bright red to tawny-brown. While these are not colors normally associated with vascular plants they quite accurately describe the colors of A. muscaria both when fresh (bright red) and dried (tawny-brown). Wasson’s critics have suggested that hari might have represented a much wider range of colors, including green.

The significance of urine being mentioned in connection with soma relies on a peculiar property of Amanita muscaria: the urine of someone who has eaten this mushroom is itself intoxicating. Wasson saw this as a crucial and specific indicator of this mushroom. The Ṛig Veda contains one passage in which urine and soma are mentioned together and Wasson attempted to use it in support of his hypothesis:

Acting in concert, those charged with the office, richly gifted, do full homage to soma. The swollen men piss the flowing (soma).⁴⁶

While many of Wasson’s arguments seemed persuasive, some scholars expressed reservations, especially in regard to urine drinking. In particular, though the phrase “the swollen men piss the flowing” probably does refer to soma, it is not mentioned explicitly. Furthermore, it merely refers to urination, not urine drinking. If we were to consider modern, literary accounts of beer drinking, we would undoubtedly find many references to urination. We might even, in British literature, find many references to embarking on a drinking bout as “going on the piss.” This connection between beer and urination is valid and incontrovertible; yet who would be so foolish as to infer that this represents a tradition of urine quaffing among beer drinkers?

Therefore, if we could find references to actual urine-drinking in the context of soma use then Wasson’s hypothesis would gain considerably in credibility. We know of the inebriating properties of fly agaric urine because certain Siberian peoples use A. muscaria as an intoxicant. Many travelers in these parts have pointed out certain curious practices associated with its use. For instance:

The Russians who trade with the Koryaks carry thither a kind of mushroom called, in the Russian tongue, Muchmor, which they exchange for squirrels, fox, ermine, sable and other furs. Those who are rich among them lay up large provisions of these mushrooms for the winter. When they make a feast, they pour water upon some of these mushrooms, and boil them. They then drink the liquor, which intoxicate them. The poorer sort, who cannot afford to lay in a store of these mushrooms, post themselves on these occasions round the huts of the rich, and watch the opportunity of the guests coming down to make water. Then they hold a wooden bowl to receive the urine which they drink off greedily, as having still some virtue of the mushroom in it, and by this way they also get drunk.⁴⁷

This account goes on to say that this procedure whereby the urine of one intoxicated person is drunk by another and so on, may be repeated five or six times. The reason for this lies both in the biochemistry of this mushroom and that of its consumer.

Amanita muscaria contains many chemical compounds in addition to muscimol the primary active principle.⁴⁸ One of these is the more toxic, less active ibotenic acid⁴⁹ molecule, which when metabolized, yields the more psychoactive and less toxic compound, muscimol.a

The metabolic process which carries out this decarboxylation within the consumer’s liver is very inefficient, however. So much so, that approximately 85% of the ibotenic acid ingested passes through the body unchanged and it is this, when excreted in the urine, which enables further users to become inebriated.⁵⁰ This apparently unsavory yet economical practice is well documented among several Siberian tribes where A. muscaria is widely used in both shamanic and purely hedonistic contexts.⁵¹ Of all known traditions of drug use this practice of recycling the urine is unique to A. muscaria consumption and should be considered a highly significant indicator of this mushroom.b

Wasson did offer one indisputable example where urine is equated with soma. It occurs in the great Indian epic, the Mahābhārata. Although this epic was composed at a much later period than the Vedas, the passage indicated by Wasson shows quite clearly that urine (especially that of a god) could be a form of soma (here referred to by its common synonym, amṛita):

Kṛiṣṇa offered the sage Uttaṅka a boon, so Uttaṅka said, “I wish to have water whenever I want it.”

“Whenever thou wilt require water, think of me!” replied Kṛiṣṇa. Having said so, he proceeded towards Dwaraka.

Then, one day, Uttaṅka was thirsty, and he thought on Kṛiṣṇa, and thereupon he saw a naked, filthy caṇḍāla,c surrounded by a pack of dogs, terrifying, bearing a bow and arrows. And Uttaṅka saw copious streams of water flowing from his penis. The hunter smiled and said to Uttaṅka, “Come, Uttaṅka, and accept this water from me. I feel great pity for you, seeing you so overcome by thirst.”

The sage did not rejoice in that water, and he reviled Kṛiṣṇa with harsh words. The hunter kept repeating, “Drink!,” but the sage was angry and did not drink. Then the hunter vanished with his dogs, and Uttaṅka’s mind was troubled; he considered that he had been deceived by Kṛiṣṇa.

Then Kṛiṣṇa came, bearing his discus and conch,d and Uttaṅka said to him, “It was not proper for you to give me such a thing, water in the form of the stream from an [outcaste].”

Then Kṛiṣṇa spoke to Uttaṅka with honeyed words, to console him, saying, I gave it to you in such form as was proper, but you did not recognize it.

For your sake, I said to Indra, “Give the amṛita to Uttaṅka in the form of water.”

Indra said to me, “A mortal should not become immortal; give some other boon to him.”

He kept repeating this, but I insisted, “Give him the amṛita.”

Then he said to me, “If I must give it, I will become a caṇḍāla and give the amṛita to Uttaṅka. If he accepts the amṛita thus, I will go and give it to him today.” As he continued to say, “I will not give it otherwise,” I agreed to this, and he approached you and offered the amṛita.

Mahābhārata, Aśvamedha Parvan, 14.55, 12-35.1⁵²

Even though the connection to soma is less blatant than in the quotation from the Ṛig Veda, this episode has several important elements. The “amṛita” which flowed from the hunter’s penise is obviously intended to be understood as urine. Moreover, the hunter’s real identity is Indra, the king of the gods who is so intimately involved with soma that he is known as somapati – “lord of soma.” And why does Indra appear in the guise of a hunter? Perhaps because a hunter carries a bow and arrows, symbols of Rudra, the Vedic god who represented the soma plant (as distinct from soma-pavamana, the actual drink). Perhaps the most significant detail is that the hunter was a member of an outcaste tribe. Caste Hindus were forbidden to handle mushrooms but this restriction did not apply to the “untouchable” outcastes.

The correlation between soma/amṛita and urine in this passage is clear and obvious. Indra (the hunter) is reluctant to give the urine/water to Uttaṅka because it will make him immortal, thus underscoring the fact that this is no ordinary urine, it is amṛita. All that is needed to identify soma with this mushroom is to point out that, in all the world, only one plant is associated with a tradition of urine-drinking and that plant is the Amanita muscaria mushroom.

Since Wasson’s groundbreaking work, much more evidence has come to light and further research by Clark Heinrich, Scott Hajicek-Dobberstein, and others has been published. Hajicek-Dobberstein presents persuasive evidence that A. muscaria was known to some “adepts” (Skt. siddha) of Vajrayāna Buddhism in medieval India.⁵³ His paper brings to our attention the tale of Āryadeva and the urine-amṛita of his guru Nāgārjuna. We will examine that evidence more closely when we turn our attention to the Vajrayāna (or tantric) phase of Indian Buddhism. It is easy to see how Rudra, “the reddish one” with a thousand eyes could be equated with the A. muscaria mushroom. Not just a hunter, he also had his healing aspect. He carried a flask of his “special medicine” called jalāṣah. The significance of this latter word remained a mystery until the 1890s when linguistic analysis revealed that it actually means “urine.”⁵⁴ This revelation occasioned no further discussion in its day but now, with our modern knowledge of A. muscaria metabolism and its traditions of urine-recycling, it should raise our suspicions. We have to ask ourselves if this “universal panacea” might be the urine of someone who has eaten A. muscaria.

Psilocybe

Before we identify Rudra fully with Amanita muscaria, however, we must also account for the passage in the White Yajur Veda which tells us that Rudra – who is recognized by his blue-throat – reveals himself to cow-herds and to girls who fetch water. This, undoubtedly, sounds like a reference to the blue-staining stem of Psilocybe cubensis, a psychedelic species that grows on cow dung and is averse to drought.

It is hardly likely that Ps. cubensis was the original soma of the Āryans as this people came from a colder latitude where the mushroom would not be found. It is far more likely that soma originally meant A. muscaria and that its definition was extended to include Ps. cubensis when this “new” mushroom was encountered. This tendency to consider Ps. cubensis as a type of soma would have increased as A. muscaria became harder to come by.

Syrian rue

In their book, Haoma and Harmaline: The Botanical Identification of the Indo-Iranian Sacred Hallucinogen ‘Soma’ and its Legacy in Religion, Language and Middle Eastern Folklore, David Flattery and Martin Schwartz suggest that the seeds of Syrian rue (Peganum harmala) were the original *sauma – the hypothetical precursor to both the Vedic soma and the Iranian haoma. Syrian rue seeds are rich in β-carbolines such as peganine, harmine and harmaline, all of which take their names from this plant.

These β-carbolines are also found in the various psychoactive Amazonian concoctions known as yage or ayahuasca. These brews usually contain another drug, n,n,dimethyl-tryptamine (DMT), which is normally rendered inactive by the intestinal enzyme mono-amine-oxidase (MAO).

An interesting property of most β-carbolines is that they prevent MAO from performing its normal function. These compounds are therefore known as mono-amine-oxidase inhibitors (MAOIs). It is often assumed that the presence of these alkaloids in ayahuasca is purely to potentiate the DMT. However, they are psychoactive in their own right and some versions of yage/ayahuasca have no DMT, the principal ingredients being β-carbolines. I can attest from personal experience that Syrian rue seeds are indeed psychoactive but somewhat sedative.

Ephedra

Flattery and Schwartz also made a case for the ancient sacramental use of Ephedra species. The active principle in these plants is ephedrine, an amphetamine. It does not seem a likely candidate for soma merely because it is not very satisfactory as a drug. At low dosages, it is a mild stimulant. As the dose is increased, unpleasant side effects (e.g. shivering, hypertension, jaw-tension) dramatically increase. On the other hand, Sarcostemma acidum, the plant used to make the soma in modern ceremonies, while botanically unrelated to Ephedra, does bear a superficial resemblance to it. If an Ephedra species had been used as soma, this would, to some extent, explain its use as a substitute. However, as Ephedra is not rare in India (it is known as asmania in ayurvedic medicine), it is unclear why such a substitution would be necessary.

FIGURE 10. Syrian rue (Peganum harmala), the plant with the highest known concentration of β-carboline MAOIs. Woodcut by Jacobus Theodorus Tabernaemontanus. [Wiki]

Though active alone, Ephedra would certainly be potentiated by combining it with Syrian rue, perhaps to dangerous levels. It is just conceivable that, in combination with an MAOI such as Syrian rue, the stimulation might be amplified but without the unpleasant side effects. I repeat that this is just possible. I do not intend to experiment with this combo (I also implore the reader to refrain likewise) as it is more probable that it would amplify the side effects and, as these include hypertension, the results could be fatal.

Lotus

Named in imitation of Wasson’s SOMA: Divine Mushroom of Immortality, David L. Spess’s SOMA the Divine Hallucinogen offers the hypothesis that soma was a species of lotus. Or rather, that it may have been any of a number of lotus or water lily species of the Nymphaea and Nelumbo genera.

FIGURE 11. Blue lotus (Nymphaea caerulea) [Wiki]

Spess bases his reasoning on the Ṛig Veda and on Vedic mythology, supplemented with appeals to European and oriental alchemy. Yet despite the intricacy of his arguments, Spess does not tell us what, if any, psychoactive substances are to be found in lotuses, nor which part of the lotus is used.

Richard Rudgley does, though. In an account of Meso-American drug traditions,⁵⁵ he mentions the presence of apomorphine-like compounds in the Egyptian blue lotus (Nymphaea caerulens) and notes that it is used in North Africa as “an effective substitute for opium.” Could this be the source of the indolent, North African “lotus-eaters” (Greek, lotophagoi), who were mentioned by Homer? Jonathan Ott, however, dismisses all claims to psychoactivity in lotuses and water lilies as unfounded and pharmacologically unsound.⁵⁶

The lotus species Nelumbo nucifera was identified as soma by Andrew McDonald⁵⁷ by examining scriptural references to plant morphology. While he makes some good observations, he omits to identify the psychoactive compounds.

Rhubarb

Rudgley cites the Germanpharmacologist Hummel who suggested that soma was rhubarb (Rheum palmatum) wine.⁵⁸ The problem with all alcoholic suggestions is that soma was made and consumed during the agni-hotra ceremony. Granted, this is a lengthy ceremony, but it is hardly enough time to ferment anything. Apart from which, rhubarb is prized for its laxative rather than psychedelic, qualities. And, for the coup de grace, it is not native to India.

FIGURE 12. Rhubarb (Rheum palmatum) [Public domain]

Millet

Alfred Hillebrandt discusses the identity of soma in his classic work Vedic Mythology. In passing, he cites a certain “Havel” who “thinks that Soma is Eleusine coracana...”⁵⁹ This food crop is known in Hindi as ragi, in Sanskrit as varuka, and in English as finger millet. Before dismissing this suggestion out of hand, consider that many species of millet are parasitized by their own, millet-specific, ergot species: Claviceps paspali. When Albert Hofmann conducted the research on ergot alkaloids which led to his discovery of LSD he used C. purpurea but millet-ergot is so rich in lysergic amides that it is their modern commercial source.⁶⁰

In India, it is widely believed that the species known as kodo millet (Paspalum scrobiculatum) is toxic after heavy rain. (Due to its increased ergot content, perhaps?) But many plants that are said to be “toxic” are merely psychoactive and kodo millet is reportedly used as an intoxicant by the Lodha tribe of West Bengal.⁶¹

Argyreia

One of the more intriguing soma-substitutes discussed by the ancient Vedic commentaries is soma-latā (or soma-latikā, both mean “soma-creeper,” “soma-vine”). This is presumably the rationale behind the modern use of the psychotropically inactive climber Asclepius acidum. Soma-latā was presumably considered a suitable substitute for the original soma because, unlike A. acidum, it had psychoactive properties comparable to soma.

FIGURE 13. “Hawaiian” baby wood-rose (Argyreia nervosa) [deKorne]

The psychoactive creeper known as Hawaiian baby woodrose (Argyreia nervosa) is, in fact, native to eastern India—a better name might be “Bengali baby woodrose.” It contains ergine (also known as lysergic amide or LSA), a potent LSD-like alkaloid, which is readily soluble in cold water. Or milk.

Another vine which has been used for its ergine content is morning glory (Ipomoea violacea), a common garden ornamental.f Its wild form is found on all continents except Europe, unlike its relative the sweet potato (I. batata), which is native to South America. However, despite this species not being native to India, Sanskrit dictionaries give “sweet potato” as a translation of the term kiṭi.⁶² Obviously, this cannot be the case for pre-Columbian uses of this word, such as the mantra of the six-armed form of Hevajra:

oṃ kiṭi kiṭi vajra hūṃ hūṃ hūṃ phaṭ svāhā⁶³

We can only assume that, if this use of “kiṭi” is even meaningful, it means some plant that is easily confused with I. batata. While we cannot be certain that it was another Ipomoea, the species of this genus bear a distinct “family resemblance.” Even if “kiṭi” is an Ipomoea, the genus has hundreds of species, only a few of which exhibit psychoactivity. However, the fact remains that the psychedelic plant I. violacea is native to India. Also, the word “kiṭi” does occur in one of Hevajra’s mantras and we can be sure that it does not refer to potatoes, sweet or otherwise..

Cannabis

It has been suggested that Indian hemp (Cannabis indica, better known in the US as marijuana) was the Vedic soma. It is highly likely that the pro-to-Indo-Europeans had dealings with their neighbors in Central Asia, the Scythians (also known as Sogdians and as Saka in Sanskrit), who were known by the ancients as cannabis-users. However, we know very little of how or when cannabis was introduced into India. The word bhaṅgā, which means “cannabis” in Classical Sanskrit, does occur in the Vedas but, as a cognate term in Avestan it simply means “intoxicant,” so we cannot assume that it had the same meaning at this early date. Also, as the word never occurs in connection with soma, its identity is not germane to the identity of this sacrament.

Chris Bennett⁶⁴ draws on an “article in response to an earlier article” by Braja Lal Mukherjee in the Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society for 1921 and directs our attention to verse 5.1.1.2 of the Śatapatha Brāhmaṇa, a Vedic commentary. The verse makes mention of a plant called uśana which Mukherjee proceeds to identify with cannabis (Skt. śaṇa). There are, however, a number of problems with this source. Firstly, the piece by Mukherjee was not, as Bennett had assumed,⁶⁵ a peer-reviewed article but simply a letter that was printed in the Miscellaneous Communications section of the journal. No doubt a review board would have noticed that neither uśana nor soma is mentioned in the verse cited. This is the verse:

FIGURE 14. Cannabis sativa (literally “common hemp”) [Wiki]

But the gods went on making offerings unto one another. Prajāpati gave himself up to them: thus the sacrifice became theirs; and indeed the sacrifice is the food of the gods.

Śatapatha Brāhmaṇa 5.1.1.2

To be fair, the word uśana does occur elsewhere in the Śatapatha Brāhmaṇa:

Soma is a god, since Soma is in the sky.g Soma, forsooth, was Vṛitra; his body is the same as the mountains and rocks; thereon grows that plant called uśana...that they bring hither and press.

Śatapatha Brāhmaṇa 4.2.5.15

Note that this Brāhmaṇa is not a Veda, per se, but merely a commentary written at a time when substitutes were being used for soma. This use of alternative somas had become necessary as the original soma disappeared. The Śatapatha Brāhmaṇa itself details which substitutes may be used.

Also, the glossing of uśana as “hemp” is not supported by any dictionary. Its identification with cannabis is peculiar to Mukherjee who derives it from Kirati, a Tibeto-Burman tongue spoken by an isolated community in the eastern Himalayas, very distant from the Āryan homeland in the Doab. Even if Mukherjee’s hypothesis were correct, as this would be the only word adopted by Sanskrit from this remote, non-Indo-European language, he is obliged to explain how this happened for his hypothesis to be remotely credible.

One of the Sanskrit words for cannabis, Indrāśana (“Indra-food”), is taken by Bennett to indicate that it was the soma enjoyed by Indra in the Vedas. If this were the case, we might expect to see the term Indrāśana in the Vedas, but it does not occur anywhere until the twelfth century CE.⁶⁶ It is by no means certain when cannabis was introduced to India but whenever it was, it is quite possible that the name Indrāśana could simply have meant “the kind of food Indra would like” (i.e. a psychoactive drug).

A further complication is that the word Indrāśana is ambiguous. While it does, on occasion, refer to “cannabis,” that is only a secondary meaning. The word usually signifies a plant (Abrus precatorius) whose tiny round seeds were used as units of weight by jewelers.⁶⁷ A. precatorius has no known psychoactivity but is extremely poisonous due to the potent toxin abrin.h It must be pointed out that Indrāśana was a somewhat poetic term, whether used for A. precatorius or C. indica. The common, everyday names of these two plants were guñja and gañja, respectively. With only one vowel difference between these two words, confusion between the names did occasionally occur⁶⁸ and we can never rule out the Sanskrit writers’ perennial love of wordplay.

Bennett cites the work of Russian archaeologist Sarianidi in unearthing a “soma temple” in Central Asia. As mentioned earlier, earthenware pots with traces of what may have been cannabis seeds were found at this site. However, Bennett may be making more of this than is justified. Sarianidi himself does not make the claim that it is a “soma temple,” merely that the finds suggest the ritual use of an intoxicant in a manner similar to the soma rite. Moreover, the Vedic fire sacrifice, at which the soma was extracted and consumed, has always been conducted en plein air. Temples did not arrive on the Indian scene until very much later.

The most persuasive argument that cannabis was not soma, comes from the Vedas themselves.

We tell of the five kingdoms of herbs headed by soma; may it and kuśa grass, and bhanga, and rice, and the herb saha release us from anxiety.

Atharva Veda Book XI, ch. 8, v. 15

Vedic Sanskrit resembles an ancient Persian tongue called Avestan, and in that language bhanga means any intoxicant. For this reason, scholars are reluctant to translate bhanga as cannabis.i Nevertheless, Bennett does assume this meaning, just as bhang means cannabis in modern Hindi. But, if this is the case, surely bhanga/cannabis cannot have been synonymous with soma as the Atharva Veda lists them as totally different plants, heading different “kingdoms of herbs.”

Chalk

The Tibetan word for cannabis is soma-radza, a borrowing of the Sanskrit somarāja (“royal soma”). Bennett sees this as clear evidence that the Vedic soma was cannabis.⁶⁹ However, when translating Sanskrit texts into Tibetan, soma is always rendered as chong-zhi, the name of a medicinal substance listed in Tibetan pharmacopeias. It is also considered quite distinct from amṛita, which is always translated into Tibetan as dutsi.

Tibet had little cultural interaction with India prior to the advent of Buddhism. As the Tibetan writing system was devised in order to translate Indian Buddhist texts, we must assume that the importation of Sanskrit loan words began with the Tibetan adoption of Buddhism in the sixth century CE. Thus, there is a gap of at least one thousand years between the Vedic use of soma and the first possible use of the term soma-radza in Tibet.

The nature of the substance or plant originally named chong-zhi remains a mystery. In a Tibetan legend that relates the origin of chong-zhi, it is quite clearly a plant,⁷⁰ but should you ask for this substance in a modern Tibetan pharmacy you will be given chalk (calcium carbonate). Exactly how the name of a powerful psychoactive plant became transferred to a mineral antacid is puzzling but the fact that it did offers a cautionary example. A name alone cannot be relied upon as identification, especially when encountered far from its original cultural context.

Honey

While it has not, to my knowledge, been suggested as the Vedic soma, certain Himalayan varieties of honey provide a subtoxic inebriation due to the presence of grayanotoxins. Also, some Tibetan accounts compare the taste of amṛita to honey⁷¹ and in the Japanese Buddhist fire rituals a mixture of honey and oil is referred to as amṛita.⁷²

IS SOMA INDO-EUROPEAN?

Dr. Iravatham Mahadevan made the very significant observation that the soma cult was confined to the Indo-Iranians: that is, those Indo-European peoples who settled in Persia and northern India. Soma, he says, is not found in other Indo-European cultures.

Granted, there was the classical belief that it was by drinking nectar and eating ambrosia that the gods of Olympus maintained their immortality but this was merely myth, not a traditional rite. No actual nectar was consumed in ancient Greek temples. Travelers’ tales of soma may have filtered through to the Greeks, giving rise to legends of nectar without any religious use of a sacrament.

One might object that potions were used in the mystery religions, the kykeon of Eleusis being a prime example. Is this not a traditional use of a psychoactive potion? Well, yes, it most certainly is, but the Eleusinian mysteries had quite a different structure from the soma and haoma rites. Also, the latter were the prerogative of priests, whereas the mysteries were open to all. Perhaps the most significant difference is that the Eleusinian mysteries were closely tied to the location of Eleusis. This may be because the Eleusinian mystery cult is actually older than the Greek and Roman cultures which adopted it. Archaeological evidence shows that the earliest temple structures at Eleusis are, in fact, Mycenaean, predating the arrival of the Indo-Europeans.⁷³

While the accounts of divine potions in Indo-European myths sound like analogues of soma,j we have no record of European use of psychedelic sacraments. There is no record of Slavic priests quaffing soma. Nor are we told that Celts or Teutons toasted the gods with amṛita. No sacrificial bonfire of the Romans tasted haoma offerings. Peter Lamborn Wilson devoted an entire book to investigations into the mere possibility that there was an Irish equivalent of soma but, while his research turned up some interesting tidbits,k no evidence of an Irish psychedelic sacrament was found.⁷⁴

It seems that haoma/soma was confined to the area around Bactria and northwestern India. In other words: the Indo-Iranians, BMAC and the Indus Valley. This leaves us with a small number of alternatives. Either the Indo-Iranians, the Margians and the Harappans discovered their sacramental plants separately or they learned about them from one another. Correlations between the words soma and haoma lead us to deduce that both words derive from a common linguistic ancestor.l Although the differences between the soma and haoma traditions pose their own problems, in this case their similarities allow us to treat them as one, simplifying the issue considerably.

It is difficult to imagine any interaction between the Indo-Iranians and the Indus Valley while the Harappan culture was at its height. At the period when the Indus Valley cities were flourishing, the proto-Indo-Europeans were still on the steppes of central Asia. Two or three centuries separate the fall of Harappan culture from the arrival of the Āryans. But while the cities may have been abandoned, surely there was much of the indigenous culture (the festivals, the religion, the clothes, the recipes, the nursery rhymes, the drugs) that still survived in some form when the Āryan wagons rolled over the Khyber Pass.

If, as Parpola maintains, Rudra was a Harappan god before he was admitted to the Vedic pantheon, then that would lend credence to the notion that soma itself had its origins in the Indus Valley sacrament (IVS). It seems likely that the IVS was Ps. cubensis. It would have been abundant after the monsoon in their cattle-rich lowland pastures. On the other hand, the Āryans arrived after long travel through mountainous, forested regions. They had been through Bactria (Afghanistan), a region known to have an active tradition of A. muscaria use in modern times.⁷⁵ If they brought this soma with them they would have seen the IVS as another version of their own mushroom sacrament. They may have gone so far as to adopt certain “more civilized” aspects of the indigenous culture, such as their soma-filters.

As the Harappan seals showing filters predate all other cultures in the region, it seems most logical to assume that it was the model for the ritual use of drugs found in the BMAC, Iran and Vedic India. On the other hand, there is no evidence of fire altars in the Indus Valley. Perhaps the entire notion of a sacrifice with fire and drugs came together in the BMAC as a mixture of Harappan influence and indigenous practices. This may then have been adopted by the Indo-Iranians who subsequently carried it to Iran and northwestern India. It seems likely that the original soma that the Āryans revered was A. muscaria but that, after migration to a sub-tropical climate it became harder and harder to find (though it is still found at higher altitudes throughout the Himalayan range). Indeed, the commentaries on the Vedas dictate at length just which substitutes for soma are permitted for ritual use. On entering the Indian subcontinent, however, the Āryans came within the range of Ps. cubensis and it is easy to imagine that these two psychoactive mushrooms would be held in comparison. Thus, the Yajur Veda tells us that the rudras are red or purple (A. muscaria) but also that they are white with a blue “throat” (Ps. cubensis). Over time, the two mushroom gods are conflated into one and Rudra becomes Śiva.

It is possible that the Āryans used several different psychoactive plants and called them all soma. However, there is evidence of a cultural taboo against all mushrooms in Vedic culture. Sanskrit is not an entirely natural language; it was artificially created from five Āryan dialects as the common tongue of the Ārya. It has a vast vocabulary but, surprisingly, has no word for “mushroom.” Did those pandits who compiled the language simply forget to include a handful of mushroom-words? Surely not. These words must have been avoided deliberately. Evidence for the taboo is also found in the Laws of Manu which forbids even touching a mushroom. An ancient commentary on this passage states that those who eat mushrooms are equivalent to priest-killers. All of this leads one to believe that, not only were mushrooms held in awe, but also that they were associated with the priestly caste.

______________

a Chemically, muscimol is 3-hydroxy-5-aminomethyl isoxazole; ibotenic acid is the closely-related compound α-amino-3-hydroxy-5-isoxazole acetic acid.

b Obtaining a secondary dose from urine is theoretically possible with other plant and mushroom drugs, but there are no known traditions of drinking drug-infused urine other than A. muscaria.

c The caṇḍāla are an “untouchable” outcaste of hunters. Note that the feminine form of this word, caṇḍālī (Tib. tummo) is a technical term in Vajrayāna Buddhist yoga and is equivalent to the Hindu kuṇḍalinī.

d The discus and conch are symbols of Viṣṇu

e Wasson uses the euphemism “lower parts” but the Sanskrit is clear.

f See The Author’s Search or Inner Space section of this book for a description of its effects.

gThe moon was considered the visible form of the god Soma.

hOne authority gives the toxic dose in humans as 0.00015% of body weight. In other words, 0.1 milligram could kill a 150lb person.

i Monier-Williams’ Sanskrit-English Dictionary, the most extensive list of Sanskrit terms, has no entry for bhanga.

j Such as Greek ambrosia and the “mead of the poets” in Norse myth.

k I have been reminded by Scott Hajicek-Dobberstein that most of these “tidbits” first appeared in his paper, “Soma Siddhas” (1995).

l Both soma and haoma mean “that which is squeezed out” or “juice.” Furthermore, an initial s in Sanskrit is equivalent to an initial h in Avestan. Thus, linguistically, they are seen as close cognates.

BUDDHISM - A BRIEF HISTORY

THE AXIAL AGE

THE SIXTH CENTURY BCE was remarkable for the number of great thinkers who appeared simultaneously in various parts of the world. In Miletos, a Greek colony in Asia Minor (modern Turkey), Thales suggested that earthquakes and lightning were not the intervention of the gods but were natural phenomena, obeying natural laws. His treatise on the subject was the first to be written in prose. A fellow-citizen of Thales, the astronomer Anaximander, proposed that the Earth floats unsupported in boundless space. Both Thales and Anaximander speculated about the fundamental principle and origin of the universe. Thales thought it was water; Anaximander thought it was chaos. In another Greek colony, this time on the island of Sicily, Pythagoras made great discoveries in mathematics and acoustics and decided that the world was made of harmonious numbers.

FIGURE 15. In this “aniconic” stone carving, the Buddha is depicted as a wheel on a pillar. Sañchi, India, 2nd century BCE. [Public domain]

Half a world away in China, Lao Tse wrote beautiful yet cryptic verses about a universal organizing principle called “the path” or “the way” (Chinese, tao), which manifests as the rhythmic interplay of positive (Chinese, yang) and negative (Ch., yin) forces. Although they were contemporaries, Lao Tse is unlikely to have met his compatriot Confucius, a professional philosopher who lectured mandarins on matters of duty and obligation. Nevertheless, apocryphal accounts of their “conversations” exist in Chinese.

THE BUDDHA

Meanwhile, in northern India, a certain Gautama Siddhartha suddenly came to understand why our lives seem unsatisfactory and what we can do about it. He compared his new perspective on life to that of a sleeper who awakens from a dream and thus declared himself to be buddha (Sanskrit, “awakened”). Buddhist scripture often refers to him by the Sanskrit title Śākyamuni, which is usually translated as “sage of the Śākya clan” though “sage” hardly captures the full meaning of muni. The munis who appear in the Vedas are semi-divine shaman-like beings with the power of flight.

The accounts found in Buddhist scriptures are the only source we have for the details of Gautama’s life. Here is a brief synopsis:

FIGURE 16. Sujata feeds Siddhartha, represented here as a distinctly fungal “parasol.” Carving at Borobodur, Indonesia, c. 800 AD. [Wiki]

Mahāmayā, King Devadatta’s favorite wife, gave birth to a son by cesarean section and died of infection a week later. The king called his new son Siddhartha and consulted wise men about his future. They predicted that the child was destined for greatness—either he would become a world-ruling emperor (Skt. cakra-vartin, “wheel turner”) or a great spiritual leader. Determined that his son should rule the world, the king made sure that the growing prince was confined to a palace, surrounded with luxurious distractions and protected from anything that could provoke serious thought.

Despite all this, young Siddhartha desired something else. At first, he just wanted to see what was beyond the palace walls and he persuaded his charioteer to take him out for a drive. (Just why someone who never left his palace would have a charioteer is never satisfactorily explained.) But what he saw was an eye-opener. Not only did he see sickness, old age and death for the first time, but he also saw a spiritual seeker, head shaven and dressed in a simple ocher robe, begging for his food. The experience affected him deeply and it was not long before he became a seeker himself, leaving the palace for a grass hut in the forest.

Here he sat at the feet of a succession of spiritual teachers but, failing to find the peace he sought with any of them, he struck out on his own. For three years he practiced harsh asceticism, mortifying his body, employing extreme breathing exercises and eating only a few hemp seeds each day.a He even acquired five disciples. Eventually, with his body enfeebled and his thoughts clouded, he decided that self-mortification was not the way and he accepted an offering of food from a woman named Sujata. She was carrying khīr, a sweet dish of rice cooked in milk, as an offering to a tree spirit, but when she saw Siddhartha’s emaciated body, she gave it to him instead.

Eating the food had a twofold effect, the first being that his five ascetic disciples left him in disgust. More importantly, it restored the clarity of Siddhartha’s mind, and that’s when he had his insight. Later, when he had found more disciples, he explained it in four connected statements, sometimes called the “four noble truths:”

1.Life is commonly experienced as unsatisfactory (vide sickness, old age and death).

2.This dissatisfaction arises because, regardless of our situation, we desire things to be otherwise. Even pleasant experiences cause us to suffer if we cling to them as they fade.

3.There is a state, free from suffering, called nirvana.

4.It is possible to achieve nirvana by abandoning our desires and following a set of ethical and psychological guidelines called “The Noble Eightfold Path.”

At this point, Gautama Siddhartha was about thirty years old. He lived for another fifty years, walking from city to city and offering his personal insights on a vast array of subjects from meditation, psychology and ethics to advice on democracy and labor relations. He established monasteries for his followers, the first Buddhist monks and nuns. At the age of eighty, severely weakened by a long bout of dysentery, he entered “the great ultimate nirvana” from which there is no return.

ASSIGNING DATES

In my brief account of the Buddha’s life above, I used the date accepted by western scholarship—the end of the sixth century BCE. This approximate date is derived from the Burmese tradition but other Buddhist traditions do not necessarily concur. Tibetan texts place the Buddha around 2,500 BCE. This may simply be equivalent to saying, “a really, really, long time ago,” but if taken seriously, would make the Buddha contemporaneous with the Indus Valley civilization. It may be no more than a curious coincidence, but one of the earliest Buddhist symbols is that known as the nandipada (“cattle foot”) or triśula (trident). The name nandipada is simply due to a vague resemblance to a cow’s hoofprint (and because we have to call it something). It has no known connection to cows and, clearly, it is not a trident, either.

The nandipada symbol has long since fallen out of use, so we cannot be sure of its significance, although some authors have seen it as a symbol the “three jewels” (Skt. triratna), the Buddha, his teaching (Skt. dharma) and the community of Buddhist practitioners (Skt. saṇgha).⁷⁶ I find this explanation unsatisfying for much the same reason that I cannot see the nandipada as a trident – the three points of the symbol are not equivalent. The outer two are foliate; the central one is just a point. However, a more definitive rejection of this claim may be found in Beckwith’s observation that terms such as saṇgha were unknown in Buddhist inscriptions until the fourth century CE.

Surprisingly, we may find these supposedly Buddhist symbols in Indus Valley artifacts, about two thousand years earlier than the generally accepted dates of the Buddha’s lifetime. For instance, the shape of the nandipada also resembles the headdress on the famous seated figure, claimed by some to be the Harappan precursor to Śiva, who is found on several Indus Valley seals.b Thus, it might just be possible that the Tibetan tradition that the Buddha lived around 2,500 BCE may be correct, after all.

Cunda’s offering

There is something of a mystery surrounding the Buddha’s last meal. A few days before his death, the Buddha and a few novices who were traveling with him were offered a meal prepared by a blacksmith called Cunda. At this meal, Cunda presented the Buddha with a dish called something like “pig-delight” (Pali, sukkara-maddava). As this is the only known occurrence of this term in all of Pali literature,c no one is entirely sure what sukkara-maddava means. It is debated whether this meant a “delightful” pork dish or a food which delights pigs. In the latter camp, some have suggested bamboo shoots but most scholars assume it to have been some sort of mushroom.

Figure 17. An “aniconic” depiction of the Buddha as an empty seat, a pillar of flame and a pair of sandals. Note also the nandipada and attendant nāgas. 19th century drawing of a carving at Sañchi, India. [Public domain]

Whatever it was, Gautama accepted it but told the novices not to eat any as it was something that only “tathāgathas” (i.e. Buddhas) could handle. Just to be sure, after the meal the leftover sukkara-maddava was buried.

R. Gordon Wasson speculated that Cunda believed the mushroom in question to be amṛita (literally “[the elixir of] immortality”) and was trying to prolong the Buddha’s life.⁷⁷

EARLY BUDDHISM

At first, (500 BCE to 100 CE) Buddhism was practiced only by monks and nuns; lay Buddhists merely provided food, clothing, medicines, and so on for the ordained saṇgha. Practice was based upon the discourses of the Gautama Siddhartha, better known as the Buddha (“awakened one”). These discourses are similar to Socratic dialogues and are preserved in “Pali,” the colloquial language of Māgadha, the land of Gautama’s birth.d

Books at this time were written on palm leaves, strung together with thread, thus the name for these Buddhist discourses is sutta – Pali for “thread.” Just as all fairy tales start “Once upon a time …,” all suttas begin with, “This is what I once heard: The Buddha was at [place name] in the company of [list of monks, nuns and laymen], when... .” The sutta then proceeds to describe how the Buddha was asked a question and what was the nature of his response. The topics of these discourses range from the nature of reality to workers’ right to free healthcare, but the format remains rather austere and formulaic. The role model of early Buddhism was the arahant (Skt. arhat), a saintly figure who has fully realized that the personal “self” is illusory, impermanent and in constant flux. As a result of this realization, all emotions and desires are brought under control.

Beckwith, drawing upon ancient Greek accounts such as that of Megasthenes, deduces that there were two separate traditions followed by the monks and nuns of early Buddhism: that of the “wanderer” and that of the “householder.” It is possible that the householder tradition evolved into what is now known as the Mahāyāna.

THE MAHĀYĀNA

Sometime around the beginning of the Common Era a new movement arose that provided the Buddha’s lay followers with ways for them to practice while still engaged in worldly matters. Philosophically, the movement extended the doctrine of “no self” to include all phenomena, not just the person. Because of this more open approach, the movement called itself the “Greater Vehicle” (Mahāyāna) and disparaged the older school by calling it the “Lesser Vehicle” (Hinayāna). The new ideal was the bodhisattva, one who dedicates his (or her) life to the wellbeing of others. A bodhisattva typically vows to postpone enlightenment until everyone else has achieved theirs.

There were major differences in the scriptures, too. Mahāyāna scholars rewrote them in Sanskrit, a less parochial, more cosmopolitan language, and called them sūtras, from the Sanskrit for “thread.” They also felt free to add new works to the canon: discourses they thought the Buddha should have had, perhaps. A whole new class of philosophical treatises—the prajñaparamitā (“perfection of wisdom”) literature—was added in this way.

As might be expected, no one came forward and announced that they had written a new scripture. All the sūtras were ascribed to the historical Buddha or at least, an enlightened Buddhist figure such as a heavenly bodhisattva. Even if these new scriptures were accepted as authentic Buddhavacana (“Buddha speech”), there must have been questions as to where had they been hiding for the past five or six centuries. Eventually, a legend grew up that accounted for that. According to this story, the Buddha gave these teachings only to a few of his more advanced students. The prajñaparamitā teachings were eventually committed to writing and were entrusted to the nāgas (snake spirits), who live under the ocean. The monk Nāgārjuna (“bright nāga”) spent some time beneath the waves as a guest of a nāga king who presented Nāgārjuna with the Mahāyāna sūtras which had been left with him.⁷⁸ A fanciful tale to be sure, but can it be entirely fiction? Does any of it in some distorted manner reflect reality, or even an aspect of the truth? At this distance in time it is difficult to know if there was a hidden meaning to this legend. There is, however, a folkloric tradition which associates nāgas with drugs. Also, in the soma ceremony, the large soma bowl from which individual servings were taken, was called the samudra (“ocean”).

This legend may also have been the template followed centuries later by the Tibetan tertons who “discovered” texts which had been previously concealed (whether underground, under water, in caves, within architectural features or even in the “enlightened mindstream”) by Padmasambhava.e

In contrast to the stiff formalism of the Pali suttas, these sūtras were written in a florid style full of hyperbole and exaggeration. They still began with “Thus did I hear at one time, when the Buddha was dwelling in…” but would go on to name a mythical location and to surround the Buddha with monks, nuns, laymen, bodhisattvas, mahāsattvas and mahābodhisattvas by the million, as well as non-Buddhist deities and visitors from other planets.

THE VAJRAYĀNA

During the seventh century CE, Buddhism was in decline in many ways. Buddhists no longer enjoyed the widespread royal patronage of former times and many monasteries were abandoned. Around the same time, a new kind of Buddhism was taking hold among the lower classes.

Yet again, the new school had its own scriptures based on the sutta/sūtra model but this time it was given a new name: tantra (Sanskrit for “weft”). This may have been a play on the meaning of sūtra (“thread”), as if the “thread” had taken on an extra dimension, although the earliest known use of the word is from c. 500 BCE, when it meant a system of rituals.⁷⁹ These new scriptures were also compendiums of ritual instructions. Although later practitioners tended to see these as purely symbolic, a position we shall revisit when we consider what appears to be a murder spell in the Hevajra Tantra.

FIGURE 18. “Tantric” headline. [National Inquirer, Sept. 12th, 2011]

The Buddhist tantras did not abandon the familiar “Thus did I hear” opening formula, but employed it to profoundly shocking effect. Vajrayāna tantras generally begin as follows, “Thus did I hear at one time, when the Buddha [x] was dwelling in the vagina of [y] …”

In another departure from tradition, the Vajrayāna offered a new form of role model. Whereas the earliest Buddhism revered the arahant, and the Greater Vehicle emulated the bodhisattva, this new Buddhism had the “adept” (Skt. siddha) as its ideal. In contrast with the saintly arahant and the world-saving bodhisattva, the siddha could be outwardly worldly, appearing to the uninitiated as a craftsman, a gambler, a king, a scholar, a bum, or even a pimp. The word “uninitiated” is crucial here. The inner teachings are secret and are imparted in a rite of initiation (Skt. abhiṣeka). This secrecy extends to its fundamental texts, the tantras, which are written in an impenetrably cryptic code in which words may have multiple layers of meaning.f Frequently, the traditional commentaries on certain tantras vary so widely in their interpretations that they give the distinct impression that even the most august commentators are only guessing.

The movement went by many names: Secret Mantra Vehicle (Skt. guhyamantra-yāna), Easy Vehicle (Skt. sahaja-yāna) and Thunderbolt Vehicle (Skt. vajra-yāna). It is by this latter name that it is best known today. The early Vajrayāna drew heavily on Hindu tantra to such an extent that several of its siddhas are also recognizable as teachers of certain Śaivite lineages. Both Vajrayāna Buddhists and Hindu Nāths revered a list of eighty-four siddhas, several of whom occur in both lists.

Although the Vajrayāna movement may have borrowed myths, legends, rituals, and deities from Hinduism, it kept strictly to Buddhist philosophy. However, it adopted such Hindu practices as the fire offering and assimilated many Hindu gods in the guise of Buddhist bodhisattvas. In particular, the god Śiva was the inspiration for several Buddhist deities, from the supremely compassionate Avalokitesvara to the “wrathful” Mahākāla and Bhairava. Vajrayāna Buddhism, like the tantric traditions in Hinduism and Jainism, is highly secretive. Despite the fact that several previously secret tantric texts have now been published in western languages, they remain cryptic and remarkably difficult to understand. This is not simply a problem with translation; their authors went to great lengths to ensure that only the initiated few would ever understand the message. For instance, the tantras themselves are written in a secret jargon known as sāṃdhyābhāṣā, a word that has been translated as “twilight language.” Evidently, this level of encryption was considered inadequate as many tantras even have sections of their text transposed.

Today, images of tantric deities are freely available to us and books on tantric art may be found on the shelves of most libraries and bookstores. But this has not always been so. Until recently the details of a deity’s appearance were revealed only as part of a secret initiation.

Typically, at a Vajrayāna initiation, after the practitioner has been given a spoonful of the “elixir of immortality” (Skt. amṛita) to drink, the guru then reveals the maṇḍala (divine palace) of a deity. The initiates are then taught how to visualize themselves as that deity and how to chant her/his mantra. In fact, a fourteenth-century Tibetan scholar even declared that initiation ceremonies are incomplete unless some form of amṛita is consumed. The essential factors of the ceremony are the amṛita, the visualization, and the mantra. If any one of these is omitted, then the ritual is considered to be merely a blessing.

The initiation usually concludes with a vow to practice the deity meditation (Skt. sādhana) on a daily basis, promising a minimum number of mantra repetitions each day. Henceforth, the practitioner is entitled to attend the twice monthly tantric feast (Skt. gaṇacakra) dedicated to that deity. The tantras and their commentaries tell us that the earliest gaṇacakras were held at night in cemeteries and cremation grounds. These ancient accounts also tell us that the celebrants feasted on five meats: cow (or as we shall see in another chapter, peacock), horse, dog, elephant and human flesh (known as “the great meat”). To wash down the five meats they quaffed the fivefold amṛita (Skt. pañcamṛita)—said to be a cocktail of urine, feces, brains, blood and semen. We shall see that none of these supposed “meats,” nor their corresponding amṛitas, should be taken literally. Apart from the practical difficulty of finding fresh elephant meat every month, the lists of meats and elixirs tend to have a lot of variants. Peacock, for instance, occasionally substitutes for cow. In fact, this seemingly trivial matter has considerable bearing on the identity of amṛita, as we shall see. Eventually, by 1300 CE, Islamic forces had taken a large part of India and Buddhism was no longer viable in the land of its origin; but it had already spread far and wide across Asia. Just across the Himalayas in Tibet, Buddhism had become the state religion and the country was ruled by a succession of religious leaders. Vajrayāna was especially popular there, although it was banned for a while—a reaction against people who took the instructions literally! This edict underscores the message that, while there is much in the tantric tradition that is outrageous if taken literally, this apparently scandalous material merely serves to hide an inner core of covert meaning.

FIGURE 19. Gaṇacakra (tantric feasts) were held in cemeteries said to be haunted by zombies and, as shown here, cannibal demons. Japanese drawing. [Chandra]

The notion of a secret god may strike some readers as odd but it should be borne in mind that these “deities” are intended for the purposes of meditation. Initiations invariably include instruction on the philosophical import of the deity and the conventional interpretations of the deity’s various symbols and attributes. But, speaking as an initiate, I must say that the connections between symbol and meaning often seem incredibly far-fetched. One goddess carries a “bag of diseases” and a pair of dice while riding a three-legged mule with an eye in its rump. Then there’s a snake-tailed protector god with a thousand eyes, a face in its belly and ten heads, the topmost of which is a raven. Then again, several gods carry a club made from a mummified corpse.

Was it really necessary to use such surreal and bloodthirsty imagery to express purely philosophical principles? As an example of this style of exegesis, a commentary on Vajrabhairava,⁸⁰ a Buddhist deity with the head of a water buffalo, explains that his two horns symbolize “the two levels of truth.” Curiously, no further mention is made of his head. Even if we accept that horns are a valid visual metaphor for the difference between absolute truth and relative truth, the question remains: why a water buffalo? Were it not for anomalies like this, it would be easy to imagine that all Buddhist meditation deities originated as a collection of visual mnemonics. Admittedly, many deities do seem to be created on this pattern, but plainly, many existed prior to being imported into Buddhism and were simply given new, plausibly Buddhist explanations by monks and scholars. Indeed, as has been shown by Prof. Sanderson,⁸¹ tantric Buddhism “borrowed” extensively from the Śaiva schools of Hinduism, even to the extent of plagiarizing substantial passages from their scriptures.

Thus, while many Vajrayāna commentaries offer “respectable” Buddhist interpretations for the bizarre elements of its iconography, the symbols they attempt to explain are frequently not Buddhist at all. It is doubtful whether any of the major Vajrayāna deities had their origins in Buddhism. It must be realized, however, that within Vajrayāna Buddhism, these “deities” were no longer seen quite as they had been in Hinduism. They were interpreted as ideals of Buddhist virtues although, on a popular level, they were worshiped, and prayers were offered begging their intervention in mundane affairs – just like gods.

It should be borne in mind that all other traditions of Buddhism deny the existence of “Buddhist gods.” To understand the original meaning of these Vajrayāna deities and their attributes, we must look to their source: Hindu myth and ritual.

______________

a As these details are from accounts compiled some centuries after the death of the Buddha, we should not take this to be conclusive evidence that cannabis even existed in India during his lifetime.

b The triśula is an ancient symbol of Śiva.

c A word or phrase which occurs only once in a language is known as a “hapax legomenon.”

d Pali means “scripture,” the language is more properly called Māgadhi.

e This subject will be treated in greater detail later, in the Tibet chapter.

f In the Tibetan tradition, it is even said that ḍākinīs [q.v.] had their own, secret, script (Tib. , khandro da-yik) with which they wrote the highest teachings.

INVESTIGATIONS

AMṚITA

THE CHURNING OF THE OCEAN

THOUGH THE VEDAS THEMSELVES are revered to this day, the great Vedic gods whom they address are no longer worshiped. Around 500 BCE, a new kind of literature began to appear, in which storytellers celebrated the deeds of a quite different set of gods and heroes. These texts are vast epics, the Mahābhārata and the Rāmāyaṇa, and also collections of myths known as purāṇas (“ancient [tales]”). Due to the proliferation of this particular religious format, this stage of Indian literature is known as the Puranic Era. Unlike the priestly Vedas, these works were an expression of the non-Āryan majority. Thus, it is quite probable that these “new” deities had a long, yet undocumented, prior history in the indigenous religious traditions.

One of the pivotal events in Hindu mythology is known as The Churning of the Ocean (Skt. samudra-manthanam), a myth which is referred to time and again throughout Hindu purāṇa literature.a According to Puranic mythology, the center of the universe is the cosmic mountain, Mt. Meru.b Around this are seven concentric oceans and, in ancient times, one of these was composed of milk, not water. Thus, just as churning milk makes butter, churning the ocean might be expected to produce something of value.

Though all the purāṇas were composed very much later than the Vedas, they speak of the origin of soma, the Vedic sacrament.c The versions of the myth vary a little in their details but, briefly, the story is as follows:

In the most ancient times, the gods were engaged in continual warfare with their eternal adversaries: the asuras, the daityas and the danavas, and on one occasion the gods had been soundly defeated by the danavas.d They were extremely dejected and appealed to the wise god Viṣṇu for his advice. He counseled them to unite with their enemies and make peace by collaborating with the danavas on a joint project. The ocean, he pointed out, contained several fabulous treasures that would be revealed if it were churned, a feat which the gods, working alone, could never accomplish.

First, they scattered emetic herbse in the ocean and then, taking Mt. Mandara as their churning stick, they turned it upside down and balanced it on the back of a giant turtle, which was resting on the seabed (actually this was Viṣṇu in one of his many disguises). As a churning rope, they used the serpent king Vāsuki,f winding him three-and-a-half times around the mountain.g The gods and danavas took opposite ends of the great serpent and hauled him back and forth, causing the mountain to spin this way and that on its turtle-pivot. They kept up this to-and-fro motion for over a thousand years and, just as butter emerges from milk, many wonderful treasures floated to the surface of the ocean.

Though there were several other wonders, the greatest of all was amṛita. All three versions of the story tell of a noxious byproduct, a virulent poison called kalakhuta (“mass of blackness”), hālāhala or simply viśa (“poison”).h In some accounts, this is simply the final product to emerge from the ocean. Others say that Vasuki, unaccustomed to being used as the rope in a cosmic tug of war, became nauseous and vomited up the kalakhuta. This latter explanation presumes that nāga vomit, like snake venom, is virulently toxic. Other sources state that the poison is a vegetable toxin, the antidote to which is snake venom.⁸²

Whatever the origin of the kalakhuta/hālāhala poison, Śiva saved the world from its perils by drinking it himself. Due to the extreme virulence of the toxin, even Śiva dare not swallow it all the way. Instead, by yogic control and unwavering attention he holds the poison safely in his throat. The constant presence of this poison has caused his throat to change color and this, we are told, explains Śiva’s blue throat. But the story continues...

The original agreement had been that the asuras, daityas and danavas would share the amṛita with the gods but at the last moment the gods changed their minds. Viṣṇu took the form of a beautiful woman known as “the enchantress” (Skt. mohinī) and distracted the asuras while the gods took all the amṛita.

One of the asuras, Rāhu by name, had managed to get in line with the gods as the amṛita was being doled out and drank his share before being discovered. As soon as Rāhu was found out, Viṣṇu hurled his magic discus (Skt. cakra) and decapitated him. But Rāhu had already drunk amṛita, the drink which confers immortality, so both his head and body continue to live. It is Rāhu’s head which causes eclipses as he tries to eat the sun and moon.

Considered as a Sanskrit word, rāhu means “the seizer.” This is no doubt a reference to his habit of “seizing” the sun and moon. In Indian astrology, Rāhu represents the “ascending node” of the moon. That is, he is one of two points at which the orbit of the moon crosses the plane of the ecliptic. The other point, the moon’s “descending node,” known as Ketu, is said to be Rāhu’s body.i Eclipses happen only when the moon is at one of these two nodes. When a new moon passes through a lunar node it occludes the sun, causing a solar eclipse; a full moon at a node gives a lunar eclipse.

From our vantage point in the twenty-first century, few of us believe in the churning of the ocean as an historical event, nor do we consider Śiva to have a physical body with an actual throat. There must have been a time, however, when the story of how a god acquired a blue throat was a meaningful detail or it would not appear in so many variant versions of the myth.j

FIGURE 20. The devas and danavas cooperate to churn the ocean of milk. Note that Viṣṇu appears three times: second from the left, sitting (with four arms) on the mountain, and (as a turtle) beneath the mountain. 19th century print. [Public domain]

The Churning of the Ocean myth presents us with a tale resembling one of Kipling’s Just So Stories. Fables which offer fanciful accounts of why the sea is salty, how the elephant got its long trunk or the robin its red breast, are known to folklorists as “pourquoi tales” (from French pourquoi, “why”). In its tone, the story of How Śiva Got His Blue Throat is a “pourquoi tale.” It is as if Śiva’s blue throat were a natural, though intriguing, phenomenon (like the briny sea, elephant’s trunk or robin’s breast) which required explanation. After all, the White Yajur Veda tells us that the god Rudra (i.e. Śiva) reveals himself to cowherds who recognize him by his blue throat.

In order to understand this myth, we must discard our customary understanding of a “god.” Our first clue to Śiva’s secret identity lies in this term “blue throat”—in Sanskrit, nīlakāṇṭha.

THROAT AND STEM

The god Śiva has several other names,k the most common of these being Nīlakāṇṭha. (Blue-Throat). The Sanskrit word nila is just the normal word for “blue” and kāṇṭha literally means “throat” or “neck” but, by extension, any narrow place or constriction. It is especially used figuratively for a narrow part of any object by which it may be grasped or held—just as we refer to the “neck” of a bottle. In the context of a plant, therefore, the kāṇṭha would be its stem. A similar-sounding term, kāṇḍa, means “stem,” “stalk,” or “branch”⁸³ and puns are not exactly unknown in Sanskrit literature. The connection between necks and stems was a familiar one in Sanskrit literature and the poetic trope of comparing a beautiful neck to a lotus stalk was such a cliché that it became a word, kaṇṭhanāla (literally “neck-stalk”).⁸⁴

Given the tantric tendency to obfuscate and the frequent use of wordplay in Sanskrit literature, the name Nīlakāṇṭha may also be understood as nīla-kāṇḍa (“blue stem”). This might be overlooked as a mere linguistic coincidence without special significance, were it not for the context. Śiva acquired the name Nīlakāṇṭha while creating amṛita, the divine drug. This suggests a specific drug found in some mushroom species. That drug is psilocin. Psilocin is a fragile compound that easily degrades into its deep blue, inactive oxide (see Plate 6). Several species of psilocin-rich mushrooms are native to India, the most common of these being Psilocybe cubensis. Others include Panaeolus cambodginiensis,⁸⁵ Pan. campanulatus. (syn. Pan. papilionaceus), and Copelandia cyanescens.⁸⁶

Unless extreme care is taken when picking these mushrooms, some of the delicate stem tissue is sure to become bruised. This damage initiates the enzymatic oxidation of psilocin, causing the mushroom to turn dark blue at the site where it was touched. Typically, the mushroom is picked with thumb and forefinger so that, after twenty minutes or so, a characteristic blue mark appears on the base of the stem (also, on the tips of your thumb and forefinger if you pick enough.)

In addition to having a blue throat, Śiva is sometimes said to have one leg. In fact, he came to be identified with the Vedic term aja ekapad (“not-born one-foot”) which we considered earlier. Known as Aja Ekapada, Ajaikapada or simply Ekapada (“one-foot”), this form of Śiva is worshipped mostly in southern India but also in Rajasthan and Nepal.⁸⁷ It has been pointed out by Wasson that one-legged entities may often be stand-ins for a “one-legged” mushroom and serve as indicators of psychoactive mushroom traditions.⁸⁸ Add to this the fact that, historically, Śiva was also known as Soma and an interesting picture emerges.

I put it to you, dear reader, that at the most fundamental level, the real reason Śiva has one leg and is called blue-throat lies not in any mythological scenario but in mycology and a biochemical reaction. Simply put, the Hindu god Śiva is an apotheosis of a blue-staining (i.e., psilocin-rich) psychedelic mushroom, probably Ps. cubensis. I admit that, on the face of it, this may seem an outrageous assertion, but consider Śiva’s known characteristics:⁸⁹

FIGURE 21. The god Śiva as Ekapada, “the one-legged.” Stone carving, India. [Wiki]

•By tradition, Śiva is associated with drugs in various ways: he is called “a medicine for kine and horses, a medicine for men, a [source of] ease for rams and ewes.”l

•As Rudra, he is “the first divine physician.”

•Various psychoactive drugs, including datura (Datura metel; Skt., dhattura), gañja (“marijuana,” Cannabis indica) and bhang,m are considered sacred to Śiva.

•Śiva is said to have consumed huge quantities of cannabis, datura and Nux vomica (the major plant source of strychnine, a powerful stimulant) before engaging in battle.⁹⁰

•He is the “Lord of Herbs” (Skt. auṣadhīśvara).

•Offerings of datura flowers and bhang are made to Śiva.

•Śiva acquired a blue throat by swallowing the poisonous byproduct of soma, the drug of the gods.

•Śiva is frequently depicted poised on one leg in the tāṇḍava dance and even has a one-legged form (figure 21).

•Śiva’s vahana (“vehicle”) and companion is a bull. Named Nandi (“joyous”), this bull is known for his “wide hump” and “single shining horn.”⁹¹

•Śiva carries the “cup of soma” (i.e. the crescent moon) on the crown of his head.

•Soma was once a common alternative name for Śiva and the literature and oral teachings of the Śaiva sect was known as somasiddhanta, literally “the science of soma.”⁹²

•The nine main lineages of Śaiva tantra each revere a different form of Śiva. One of these forms is known as Amṛiteśvara (Lord of Amṛita).⁹³

•Some Śiva temples are not only mushroom-shaped but are even called “mushroom-like” (Skt. chattraka).

Considered individually, these divine attributes may seem inexplicable, even bizarre, but once they all are seen to allude to the same referent they are readily understood. It is Psilocybe cubensis which is simultaneously the powerful drug and the perfect doctor. Psilocybe is the divine fungus vehicle with a “wide hump” and a “single shining horn.” In the absence of any good reason for the singular horn, I assume that this is a coded reference to the (wide, humped) cap and the (single, shining) stem of the Psilocybe cubensis mushroom. We might even perceive a connection to the bovine “unicorn” found in conjunction with the “cult object” on Indus Valley seals and to the “single tusk” (ekadanta) of Gaṇeśa, Śiva’s elephant-headed son.

Though details vary, in every version of the myth Śiva acquires his blue throat as a consequence of the production of soma-amṛita the sacred inebriant. In this context, the identification of a god with a psychedelic mushroom should not be out of the question. Indeed, the parallels between Śiva and this blue-staining mushroom which grows on cow dung may not only explain Śiva’s blue throat but may go a very long way to elucidating many other characteristics of this god who either has a single leg or who “dances” on one leg, and has a throat (stem) that turns blue when picked. The popularity of the Śiva cults may be inferred by their influence on Buddhism. It its later phases, Buddhism not only borrowed many deities from Hinduism, but it imported Śiva several times over, each time with a different name.

Some Buddhist versions of Śiva:

Bhairava | Terrifier
Iśa or Iśāna | Lord
Mahākāla | Great Black One / Great Time
Maheśvara | Great Ruler
Nandi[ke]śvara | Ruler of Nandi[ka]
Nīladaṇḍa | Blue Staff
NīlakāṇṭhaBlue | Throat
Nīlāmbhara | Blue-Robed
Vajrabhairava | Vajra (i.e. ‘Buddhist’) Terrifier

Some of these (e.g. Mahākāla, Vajrabhairava) developed distinct cults – but by far the most popular of all the Buddhist versions of Śiva was Avalokiteśvara.

AVALOKITEŚVARA

Indian Buddhists referred to local deities by the term lokeśvara, literally “place lord.” The Sanskrit word loka (“place”) shares a common origin with Latin locus and English location. One particular lokeśvara, presumably Śiva, became regarded by Buddhists as the bodhisattva Nīlakāṇṭha-Lokeśvara. Hindu texts often refer to Śiva, in his mild form, as lokanatha “lord of the world” or simply as iśvara, “lord.” Familiarity with these two terms may have caused Buddhists to misinterpret the name of the bodhisattva Avalokita-śvara (i.e. “contemplation of sound”) as Avalokiteśvara (“lord [who] looks down [upon] the world”). Eventually, Avalokiteśvara became so popular that every lokeśvara (even Nīlakāṇṭha) came to be regarded as one of his many aspects.⁹⁴

FIGURE 22. Nīlakāṇṭha (“blue throat”) Avalokiteśvara, a Buddhist version of Śiva, holds aloft a skullcup of amṛita. Nepali drawing. [Chandra]

Avalokiteśvara is perhaps the best known of all Mahāyāna bodhisattvas and his cult is to be found throughout the Northern Buddhist lands. He is even revered in Theravada Buddhist countries, being called Natha in Śri Lanka and Lokeśvara in Thailand and Cambodia.⁹⁵

In Tibet he is known as Chenrezi and is the patron deity of the Land of Snows. On migrating to China he became the androgynous deity Kuan [Hsi] Yin and, when imported into Korea, Vietnam and Japan, was primarily thought of as female. All of these variant forms, whether Chenrezi, Kuan Yin or Kannon, carry a flask of amṛita.

These very Buddhist deities betray their Hindu origin in several iconographic details. For instance, the Tibetan Chenrezi is described as having a blue throat. According to the Buddhist commentary, this resulted from his swallowing poison, just like Śiva although in the Buddhist version he swallows the standard Buddhist “three poisons”—a trio of habitual human responses to our experiences: attraction, aversion, and apathy. These habitual reactions are said to distort (“poison”) our perception of reality. Are we to understand then, that mental events may cause one’s throat to turn blue? Personally, I find this a little hard to swallow.

Encountered in vacuo, devoid of mythical context, this “explanation” of Avalokiteśvara’s blue throat would be more baffling than the blue throat itself. The true reason is much simpler: Avalokiteśvara is Śiva, blue throat and all. As if to underscore the importance of this anatomical anomaly, several versions of Avalokiteśvara are explicitly named Blue-throat (e.g., Skt., Nīlakāṇṭha-lokeśvara; Chinese, Ch’ing-hsiang Tzutsai Kuan-shih-yin; Japanese, Shō-kyō Kannon).⁹⁶ Of course, to make any sense of this, one must be familiar with the Hindu legend of how Śiva got his blue throat and also recognize Avalokiteśvara as a form of Rudra/Śiva in Buddhist guise. Apart from his blue throat, Avalokiteśvara has several other attributes which betray his Hindu antecedents.

FIGURE 23. Avalokiteśvara in his symbolic form: a vase of amṛita. Japanese drawing. [Chandra]

One of his best-known aspects is Eleven-headed (Skt. ekadaśa-mukha) Avalokiteśvara, the patron deity of Tibet. The number eleven has no special meaning within Buddhism but in the Vedas, for reasons now obscure, it was closely associated with Rudra. There were said to be “eleven Rudras” among the thirty-three (or thrice-eleven) gods on the Hindu Olympus, Mt. Meru. But what was meant by “the eleven Rudras” is unclear.

Vedic myth tells us that the god Prajapati (later called Brahma) came across his daughter in the form of a doe. Struck by her beauty, he turned into a male deer in order to ravish her. The other gods, aghast at the prospect of incest, created an archer (Skt. śarva) to slay Prajapati before he could fulfill his desire. This archer was, of course, Rudra (aka Śiva) who slew the Prajapati-buck and took his skin as a shawl. Rudra was also said to be the world’s first physician and carried a flask of medicine. The most significant attributes of Rudra therefore, are his bow and arrow, his flask of medicine and his deerskin shawl. All of these features and the blue throat are present in the iconography of Avalokiteśvara.

FIGURE 24. Eleven-headed, eight-armed Avalokiteśvara. Tibetan woodblock print. [Crowley]

Avalokiteśvara has been a very popular deity in Mahāyāna and, over the centuries, he has been imagined in many different ways. The simplest of these has a two-armed, one-faced Avalokiteśvara making the blessing gesture (Skt. varada-mudrā) with his right hand and holding a lotus in his left. The lotus, incidentally, is sometimes said to be red, sometimes blue, reminiscent of the red and blue Rudras mentioned in the White Yajur Veda.

The out-stretched right hand of Padmapāṇi (“lotus-in-hand”) Avalokiteśvara makes the symbolic gesture of “giving” (Skt. dana-mudrā). Only when we consult the actual sādhanas of Padmapāṇi do we discover that this no empty gesture; he is actually giving something. Although no indication of this ever appears in the iconography, these liturgies clearly state that the hand “drips amṛita.”⁹⁷

FIGURE 25. Avalokiteśvara not only shares Rudra’s blue throat but also carries several of his attributes: the antelope-hide shawl, bow and arrow, and the flask of medicine. Enhanced detail of fig. 24.

Lokesh Chandra describes eighty-nine major versions of Avalokiteśvara and a few dozen other variants that go by slightly different names. Twenty-two of this eighty-nine are versions of Thousand-Armed Avalokiteśvara (sahasrabhuja-avalokiteśvara). One has only to glance at an image of any thousand-armed deity to notice the resemblance to the underside of a mushroom cap.

It would, of course, be absurd to build a hypothesis based on this resemblance alone, but we have already seen that the blue-throated god Śiva is a deified form of the Psilocybe cubensis mushroom. In light of which, the comments of Dr. Chandra are very relevant:

FIGURE 26. Avalokiteśvara’s right hand is in the dana-mudrā (“gesture of giving”). It also drips amṛita. Tibetan print. [Chandra]

Thousand-Armed Avalokiteśvara is a metamorphosis of Maheśvara [i.e. Śiva]. His hymn is Nīlakāṇṭhaka… [The name] Sahasrabāhu (“thousand-armed”) occurs in Ṛig Veda 8.45.265 and is a name of Śiva in the Mahābhārata.

Dict. Buddhist Iconography, vol. 10⁹⁸

There are, of course, entirely Buddhist explanations for Avalokiteśvara’s eleven heads but it is surely no coincidence that the number eleven was sacred to Rudra. As for the thousand arms, the number one thousand also occurs in the mythology of Rudra, with his thousand eyes and thousand bows and arrows. Indra, the soma-lord, king of the Vedic gods also had one thousand eyes and the vajra, his thunder-bolt-weapon, was said to have a thousand prongs:

When the artful Tvaṣṭṛi had turned [upon his lathe] the well-made, golden thunderbolt with its thousand spikes, Indra took it to do heroic deeds.

Ṛig Veda, 1.85.9⁹⁹

FIGURE 27. Thousand-Armed Avalokiteśvara. A nāga at his feet holds a flask of elixir in his two main hands, with a book, vajra, skullcup of amṛita and a lotus in his other hands. Nepali drawing, 18th century. [Chandra]

______________

a While there are scores of references and partial retellings of the legend throughout Hindu literature, there are four major sources for the entire myth: the Viṣṇu Purāṇa, the Śiva Purāṇa, the Mahābhārata and the Rāmāyaṇa

b This is also the basic schema of Buddhist cosmology, though the mountain is often called Sumeru.

c In the late Vedic period, as the original soma plant became increasingly scarce, the Brahmanic commentaries on the Vedas began to offer advice on appropriate substitutes. Thus, as various alternative plants became accepted as soma-amṛita, it is likely that the terms soma and amṛita eventually became more broadly applied, eventually being extended to include any and all psychoactive potions. Thus, it is by no means certain that the amṛita of the samudra-manthanam is identical with that of the Vedas. This applies a fortiori to geographically remote versions of amṛita such as Tibetan dutsi and Japanese amarita.

d The danava (“descendants of Danu”) were a race of anti-gods (Skt., asura) mentioned in the Ṛig Veda who were roughly equivalent to the titans in classical Greek mythology. Some believe that the danava were one of various indigenous races (cf. daitya, nāga) that opposed the Aryan incursion into India. However, there is a clear correspondence with the Irish “descendants of Danu” (Gaelic, tuatha de danaan). In Irish myth, this race were the original indigenes of the island with whom successive invasive races fought, just as the Ārya fought with the asura. The name Danu is derived from PIE *danu, “river” (cf. the rivers Danube, Don, Deen, etc.).

e It is as if they were expecting the ocean to literally vomit forth its treasures.

f To be precise, Vāsuki was a nāga-king. Nāgas are snake spirits who inhabit the subterranean land of Pātāla. They are connected with the water element and control the rain. They also have the power to change their shape; their normal form is that of a gigantic snake though their females (Skt., nāginī) often assume the guise of beautiful women.

g Cf. the “serpent power” of Hindu tantra. Known as kuṇḍalinī (literally “the coiled [female]”), this source of psychic energy, enlightenment and bliss is said to lie dormant, wound three-and-a-half times around the base of the spine.

h It is possible that both kalakhuta and hālāhala derive from the Sanskrit ulukhala, “mortar” though the terms also suggest hala, “plough” and kūṭa, “ploughshare” [Monier-Williams, 1899].

i In western astrology, these are known as caput draconis and cauda draconis (“dragon’s head” and “dragon’s tail” respectively), suggesting a common origin with the Indian version.

j It must be admitted, however, that the Bhagavan Purāṇa omits this episode. It briefly mentions that a poison was created but says that the nāgās took it.

k Such secondary names are known as eponyms or by-names.

l This author has observed “rams and ewes” seek out and eat Ps. semilanceata on the grassy hillsides of Wales.

m A spiced drink made with gañja.

RĀHU, THE SOMA THIEF

A TIBETAN TALE OF SOMA

A TIBETAN BUDDHIST TEXT retells the Churning of the Ocean legend with several novel elements, some of which provide clues to the identity of amṛita. The text in question is the Immaculate Crystal Garland, a Tibetan work that is presumably itself a translation of a Sanskrit original. Despite the relative obscurity of this work, it was one of the first Tibetan texts ever translated into English.¹⁰⁰ Here is the tale it tells:

THE LEGEND ABOUT CHAKDORa

Once upon a time, evil demons, had unleashed the lethal hālāhala poison, with disastrous effect on all sentient beings, including mankind. Aghast at this state of affairs, the Buddhas convened a true summit meeting—they met on top of the cosmic axis, Mount Meru. It was agreed by all the assembled Buddhas that the only solution was to provide the world with an antidote. The antidote par excellence was amṛita, elixir of immortality, which unfortunately lay concealed in the depths of the ocean. In order to procure the elixir, they decided to churn the ocean, using Mount Meru as a churning stick, and so cause the water of life to rise to the surface of the waters. This they did and gave the amṛita to the gentle bodhisattva Vajrapāṇi to keep it safe until the next Buddha summit, when they would deliver it to all living beings. However, the evil Rāhu, an asura,b happened to hear of this precious discovery, and carefully watched Vajrapāṇi’s movements, waiting for a chance to snatch the elixir. An opportunity soon arose and as soon as Vajrapāṇi’s back was turned, Rāhu drank the entire world’s supply of the elixir of immortality. Then, as if the theft alone were not heinous enough, he replaced the stolen amṛita with his own urine.

FIGURE 28. Rahu, the soma-thief and eclipse-maker, is portrayed as rising from a triangular ocean of blood, in which float gobbets of human fat (i.e. it is red with white spots). He has ten heads, eyes all over his body, a face in his belly, and a serpent’s tail. He wears a shawl of human skin, a tiger-skin skirt, and a garland of human heads. His four hands hold a “makara-banner,” a poisonous snake, and a bow and arrow. Tibetan print. [Crowley]

Rāhu then hurried away as fast as possible and had already traveled a considerable distance by the time Vajrapāṇi returned home. The only beings who witnessed the flight of Rāhu were the sun and moon, but Rāhu had threatened them with vengeance if ever they should to betray him to Vajrapāṇi. As soon as Vajrapāṇi discovered the theft, he set out in pursuit of the culprit but his searches proved fruitless. Eventually, he asked the sun but the sun was evasive, saying that he had paid no attention as to who it was. The moon, on the other hand, replied honestly but begged Vajrapāṇi not to tell Rāhu. Armed with this information, Vajrapāṇi rapidly found Rāhu and dealt him such a blow with his vajra thunderbolt that Rāhu’s upper body was lacerated all over and his lower half was completely obliterated. But despite his dreadful wounds, Rāhu could not die – the amṛita he had drunk protected him from death. This powerful elixir, however, dripped from his wounds and fell all over the world, causing numerous medicinal herbs to spring up wherever it touched the soil.

When the Buddhas reconvened their summit meeting, it was not to distribute the amṛita, as they had planned. Instead, they had to decide upon how to dispose of Rāhu’s urine. It could not simply be poured away as it contained a large quantity of the hālāhala poison and would have been extremely dangerous to living beings. So, they decided that Vajrapāṇi should drink it, as an appropriate punishment for his carelessness in letting the amṛita be stolen. The moment he drank Rāhu’s urine, Vajrapāṇi’s fair, golden complexion was transformed by the effects of the poison to dark blue; his jeweled ornaments—necklaces, bangles, ankle bracelets and so on—all turned into snakes and he was surrounded by an aura of blazing fire. This transfiguration caused Vajrapāṇi to detest all evil demons, especially Rāhu.

Rāhu himself did not escape without punishment. The Buddhas reassembled his shattered body, but replaced his missing legs with the tail of a nāga, formed nine different heads from his broken one and placed a raven’s head on top. The large wound in his abdomen was made into an enormous mouth, and the lesser wounds into thousands of eyes.c

After his transformation, Rāhu, who had always been wicked, became more evil than ever. His rage was directed especially towards the sun and the moon, who had betrayed him. He is constantly trying to devour them, particularly the moon, who displayed the most hostile disposition towards him. He overshadows them whilst trying to devour them, and thus causes eclipses; but owing to Vajrapāṇi’s unceasing vigilance, he never succeeds in destroying them.¹⁰¹

Undoubtedly, the striking parallels between amṛita’s origin myth told in The Immaculate Crystal Garland and that of soma in The Churning of the Ocean show that Buddhist amṛita and Hindu soma were at one time understood to be identical. Moreover, the principal property of amṛita is to this day perceived by Buddhists as being a species of inebriation, however symbolically this inebriation may be interpreted. Why else would barley beer be used by yogins as a symbolic substitute for amṛita?¹⁰² Conversely, why else would Tibetans employ the term dutsi (their translation of amṛita) as a poetic synonym for beer?

This legend is noteworthy for several reasons. Firstly, it is a Buddhist myth. Buddhist deities are mostly viewed as psychophilosophical abstractions; unlike the gods of Hinduism, they do not normally appear as characters in cosmic dramas. This story of Vajrapāṇi and Rāhu is a rare example of a tale in which Buddhas and bodhisattvas behave as mythological entities. This is all the more reason to see this as a Buddhist redaction of a Hindu myth, specifically “the churning of the ocean.” The parallels to this myth are obvious, especially as some of the Hindu versions include an episode where Rāhu steals the soma, which must then be rescued.

Vajrapāṇi is, in part, a thinly disguised form of the Vedic god Indra who, in his role as sky god, was commonly called Vajrapāṇi (“thunderbolt-wielder”). Both gods used their thunderbolt to destroy a serpent creature: in Indra’s case, the drought demon Vṛitra; in Vajrapāṇi’s, Rāhu. There are several accounts of the battle between Indra and Vṛitra but soma is involved with all of them. In one, Indra quaffs copious drafts of soma before the battle. In another, Vṛitra, like Rāhu, has drunk all the soma and needs to be subdued. In a third, Vṛitra is said to be “made of soma.”

The disposal of Rāhu’s urine is clearly analogous to the passage in the Hindu myth in which Śiva drinks the hālāhala poison, resulting in his blue throat. In the Buddhist version, Rāhu’s urine is contaminated with hālāhala and drinking it renders Vajrapāṇi’s golden complexion dark blue. Strangely, in Buddhism, the religion of forgiveness and self-sacrifice, Vajrapāṇi is forced to drink poisonous urine as punishment and develops a hatred of demons, whereas in the Hindu version, Śiva selflessly drinks the hālāhala poison for the sake of all beings.

FIGURE 29. No more Mr. Nice Guy. As a consequence of drinking Rahu’s urine, Vajrapāṇi becomes “wrathful.” Tibetan print. [Chandra]

In addition to this heterodox retelling of Hindu myths, the tale of Vajrapāṇi and Rāhu is partly an astrological allegory. In this regard, we might note that Indian astrology, personifies the “descending node” of the moon as Ketu (Rahu’s body), portrayed as a deity with the tail of a nāga. This has a direct parallel in western astrology that knows it as cauda draconis (“the dragon’s tail”), suggesting a distant link to Rāhu’s nāga tail. It is an astronomical fact that all eclipses, whether solar or lunar, happen only when the moon is at one of these two nodes.

Yet, according to Indian folklore and legend, it is a demon that causes eclipses and that demon is called Rāhu. This story neatly rationalizes his motivation for doing this. It explains why Rāhu hates the sun and moon so much that he continually tries to swallow them and why he can never permanently contain them—they just escape through the huge mouth in his abdomen. In the same fairy-tale manner, the story explains how medicinal plants came about: they all sprang up together when the earth was showered with Rāhu’s blood. The amṛita contained in this blood gave these plants their healing properties but it was, after all, demon’s blood so beware, the story seems to tell us, for they may also be toxic.

FIGURE 30. Vajrapāṇi, even in his “mild” aspect has a strong connection to nāgas. Here, he sits at the center of a maṇḍala surrounded by eight pairs of nāgas and nāginīs. Tibetan print. [Chandra].

On yet another level, the legend may be seen as a philosophical parable wherein the hālāhala poison represents our habitual tendency to become enmeshed in neurotic, often destructive, thought patterns. Contrasted with this poison is amṛita, its antidote, representing the teachings of the Buddha. The familiar Buddhist icon known as The Wheel of Life has at its center, a rooster, a snake and a pig. These symbolize the mind’s three habitual responses to stimuli: attraction, aversion and apathy—known to Buddhists as “the three poisons.” To one side of the wheel a Buddha is pointing away from these poisonous mental afflictions to a state of blissful peace beyond the icon’s border. It would not, therefore, be out of place to see this legend of poison and its antidote as a mythologized account of saṃsara (“existence as suffering”) and nirvana (“existence as peace”). We might also note that one of the characteristic aspects of Buddhist meditation is its emphasis upon awareness, and the amṛita was lost due to Vajrapāṇi’s lapse in attention.

Calling upon all these various influences, Vedic, folkloric, astrological, and philosophical, we can account for most features of the legend of Vajrapāṇi and Rāhu, but not quite all. The most fascinating aspects are those which remain unexplained by any prevailing paradigm. In particular, there are several unresolved questions surrounding the matter of Rāhu’s urine. Why does Rāhu replace the amṛita with his urine? We are not told. And why does Rāhu’s urine contain the hālāhala poison? This also, is left to conjecture.

However, just to repeat a point made in an earlier chapter, the psychoactivity of the fly agaric (Amanita muscaria) mushroom is due to muscimol. Also present is another, chemically-related compound called ibotenic acid. When acted upon by a human liver, much of the ibotenic acid is converted to muscimol which then passes into the urine. Due to this metabolic process, it is not uncommon to find more muscimol in the urine than was contained in the original mushroom. As a result, this highly psychoactive urine may be used as a potion to inebriate other users¹⁰³ or to intensify the experience of the mushroom-eater.¹⁰⁴

If this were our only encounter with a potion called amṛita, we might never be able to answer our questions about Rāhu’s urine. However, we know that, in Hinduism, amṛita (“deathlessness”) has been a common synonym for soma since the Vedas, and in Buddhism, it is the name of an apparently psychoactive elixir used in initiations and tantric feasts. Once again, our modern acquaintance with fly agaric allows us to perceive a connection between amṛita and urine drinking. Without sufficient familiarity with its pharmacology and traditional modes of use, this connection is not at all obvious. It could easily have been overlooked by even the most learned Buddhist scholars of earlier centuries, perhaps even those who translated this text into Tibetan.

We find in The Legend about Chakdor distant echoes of the Hindu myth of the titanic struggle between the sky god Indra and the monstrous snake demon Vṛitra whom he decapitated with his thunderbolt (Skt. vajra). Indra, the sky god, is also said to have conquered the asuras.¹⁰⁵ It has been noted that there is an almost worldwide association of thunder and lightning with mushrooms.¹⁰⁶ This would be especially the case in India where mushrooms spring up only after the annual monsoon and its inevitable thunderstorms. Thus, it is only to be expected that if a mushroom cult was part of the Vedic religion, then of all gods, it would be Indra, the thunderbolt wielder and bringer of monsoons, who would be most associated with it.

How are we to account for the equivalence of Śiva and Vajrapāṇi in these two legends? Why is Śiva the protagonist of the Hindu version and not Indra, the god who is invariably associated with soma in the Vedas? Śiva, a god who was to assume a supreme position in later Hinduism, was unknown to the authors of the Vedas. It is generally accepted that he evolved from Rudra, a god so fierce and terrifying that even to pronounce his name was to incur his wrath. Consequently, the name “Rudra” was deliberately mispronounced as “Rudriya” and eventually he came to be known by eponyms that described his attributes, such as “Blue-throat” (Nīlakāṇṭha) or by an apotropaic epithet meant to deflect the god’s wrath, like “Auspicious” (Śiva).

By the time the epic purāṇas were composed, Indra, the god of thunderbolts and soma, had dwindled in importance, becoming merely an aspect of Śiva. One might also see this as a mythic account of how the Āryan’s ancestral mushroom-drug, Amanita muscaria, was eventually superseded by the indigenous Psilocybe cubensis.

With the advent of the tantric movement in the sixth century CE, Buddhist tāntrikas borrowed heavily from Śaiva sources but, still wishing to assert their sectarian distinctions, a myth arose about a young man called Black Liberation and his servant Denpak. Both listened to Vajrayāna teachings from an itinerant monk but whereas Denpak understood the teaching to mean conscious presence in all activities, Black Liberation assumed it meant that no activity, however reprehensible, was to be avoided. He went on to live in a charnel ground, eating human flesh and clothing himself in human skin. Eventually, by dint of austerities and cannibalism, he was reborn as the powerful demon, Rudra. Of course, this “demon” is the Vedic mushroom god. This is an example of how Buddhists literally demonized Hindu gods.

Denpak advanced spiritually by practicing the dharma and was reborn as a bodhisattva called Vajrapāṇi. In order to subdue Rudra (which he does, this being a Buddhist legend), Vajrapāṇi was compelled to adopt his appearance and attributes.¹⁰⁷

In the Vedas, Vajrapāṇi (“thunderbolt-wielder”) was a byname of Indra; early Buddhist writers, such as Buddhaghoṣa, explicitly acknowledge that fact.d At the same time, Indra, king of the gods, is often referred to as a yakṣa (approximately equivalent to our “gnome” or “goblin”). In Buddhist texts, this seems to be a common tactic for disparaging the Hindu godse but Vajrapāṇi was always seen as a friend of Buddhism, if a trifle overbearing:

Vajrapāṇi is a complex personality in the Buddhist pantheon. In the Pali texts he is a yakṣa who frightens people who refuse to answer a reasonable question put to them by the Buddha.

Dict. Buddhist Iconography¹⁰⁸

The yakṣas are classed along with the asuras in Hindu legends as malign spirits and, like the asuras, are thought to represent a vestige of the indigenous, pre-Āryan (probably Dravidian) religion. Incidentally, nāgas are often considered to be another of the classes of asura. Both the nāgas and the asuras were believed to inhabit a subterranean realm called Pātālaf which, for some reason, has traditional connections with amṛita. The reason for the connection between the various classes of asura and soma/amṛita is not immediately obvious but they are frequently associated in folklore and legend. As the Vedas speak of buying soma from the indigenous population it is not unreasonable to suppose that the asuras were a mythic representation of the gods of those indigenes.

Consider this passage from the Yoga Sūtras of Patāñjali:

Perfections proceed from birth or from drugs or from spells or from self-castigation or from concentration.

The Yoga System of Patāñjali¹⁰⁹

This statement is fascinating in itself but, in the context of the asura-amṛita connection, its commentaryg is even more so:

He describes the perfection which proceeds from drugs. A human being, when for some cause or other he reaches the mansions of the demons (asura), and when he makes use of elixirs of life brought to him by the lovely damsels of the demons,⁶ attains to agelessness and to death-lessness and to other perfections. Or (this perfection may be had) by the use of an elixir-of-life in this very world. So for instance the sage Mandavya, who dwelt on the Vindhyas and who made use of potions…

Commentary on Patāñjali¹¹⁰

So widespread was this assumed connection between amṛita and the world of the asuras that even as late as the seventeenth century in a land as remote as Tibet, this could be taken for granted:

Also, there was a farmer who took Tārā as his meditation deity. When he dug in the earth and cried “Phu! Phu!”h the gate of Pātāla itself opened. Entering the place of the Nāgas, he drank the amṛita he found there. Thus, he became like a rainbow body.

The Golden Rosary of Tārā¹¹¹

Tārānātha (1575-1634), author of this text, was a Tibetan monk despite his Sanskrit name. So great was his scholarship that he became known as kunkhyen (“omniscient”). The Indian Buddhist yogin Buddhagupta stayed in Tibet for five years,i during which time he took Tārānātha as a disciple and taught him much concerning the history of Buddhism in India, especially that of Tārā practice and of the siddhas. Thus, we must assume that we have Buddhagupta to thank for transmitting what may have been an Indian oral tradition.

Given Vajrapāṇi’s supposed yakṣa origins, the assumed correlation of yakṣas to amṛita is intriguing:

Again, there was a sādhaka who practiced the sādhana of Tārā.j He sat beside the roots of a bimba treek and repeated mantras. On one occasion, in the early morning, he saw a narrow lane in front of him which had not been there previously. He entered this and followed along the way. By nightfall, he found himself in the midst of a delightful forest and here he saw a golden house. When he entered it, he encountered the Yakshinī Kālī, who was the servant of the Yaksha Natakubera. She was adorned with every kind of ornament and her body was of an indefinite colour.

She addressed him, “O sādhaka, since you have come here, you must eat of the elixir,” and she placed in his hands a vessel filled with nectar. He remained for one month, drinking the elixir, and thereafter his body became free of death and rebirth.

Ibid.¹¹²

A yakshinī (or as I would write it, yakṣinī) is a female yakṣa. As with Vajrapāṇi, the designation of yakṣa is used for Hindu deities. I think we may safely assume that the yakṣinī in question is the Hindu goddess Kālī in Buddhist guise. The god Natakubera is the dwarfish wealth deity better known as Kubera (Sanskrit: “deformed”). In this case, the designation “yakṣa” is not misplaced. Natakubera (literally, “bent and misshapen”) is considered “the lord of the yakṣas” (Skt. yakṣa-rāja). Kubera is not the only wealth deity who seems to have a connection with amṛita; we will encounter others.

Although Buddhist authors often disparaged Hindu gods by calling them yakṣa, yakṣas, those gods themselves were not held in disdain. In fact, they were incorporated into the Buddhist pantheon, especially that of the Vajrayāna. One particularly intriguing Vajrayāna deity is a Buddha known as “King Nāga Lord” (Skt. nāgeśvara-rāja). Many tantric deities have bodies in startlingly unnatural colors—green, red, yellow, etc. Unlike these, King Nāga Lord’s body is of two colors: his head is white but he is blue from the neck down (see Plate 10).

There are other bicolored Vajrayāna deities, such as those who occupy the corners of maṇḍalas, but they are divided vertically. For example, for a maṇḍala with a green northern quarter and a blue eastern quarter, the deity in its northeast corner would typically have her right side green and her left side blue. King Nāga Lord is unusual in having head and body of different colors. It is not, however, unique. There is another well-known deity with a head of one color and body of another and that is the lion-headed ḍākinī, Siṃhamukhā. Yet again, this is a white head on a blue body.

Of course, this color scheme is suggestive of the Psilocybe cubensis mushroom with its whitish cap and a stem which turns blue. The iconography of King Nāga Lord contains other hints that he may be a psychoactive plant: he has a backrest of “all kinds of flowers,” a “hood of seven snakes”¹¹³ and he is accompanied by a retinue of four bodhisattvas, all holding plants.

In a well-known compendium of Tibetan icons, this group of deities is placed immediately after the “medicine Buddha” (Skt. Bhaiṣajyaguru) and his retinue of seven deities. In addition to holding various plants, King Nāga Lord and his followers are surrounded by leaves and large flowers. I think we may safely assume that the seven snakes are poisonous and that the plants are medicinal.

BUDDHISM ADOPTS HINDU GODS

Many of the distinctive traits of Vajrayāna Buddhism, including the Vedic homa and bali rituals,l have been traced to Hindu origins, specifically to Śaivite ascetics called kāpālika.¹¹⁴ Several prominent Vajrayāna deities are thinly disguised versions of Śiva and his consort, Kalī. There also is evidence that large passages of Vajrayāna texts were copied wholesale from Śaivite texts.¹¹⁵ The traffic was not entirely one-way, though. Statues of Lakuliśa, a pioneer kāpālika of the pāśupata sect, show him as “turning the wheel of dharma” (a characteristically Buddhist gesture) and he is even shown with an uṣṇīṣa, Buddha’s crown bump.¹¹⁶ Despite borrowing rituals, symbols and even gods, Buddhism retained its own philosophical doctrines and meditative techniques.¹¹⁷

Kāpālika ascetics imitated the appearance of Rudra (i.e. the Vedic version of Śiva) by living in cemeteries, clothed only with ashes taken from funeral pyres. As a religious observance, they carried a khaṭvāṅga (skull-topped staff) and used a “skullcup” (Skt. kapāla) as a begging bowl. The rationale provided by the kāpālika for this observance was that they were imitating their god: Rudra/Śiva. According to legend, the god Brahma (famous for having four heads) grew a fifth head and when this head told Śiva, “I know [the manner of] your birth,” Śiva cut it off.

I am unaware of any suggested explanation for Śiva’s action, whether in mythic accounts or in scholarly speculation. However, if my hypothesis that Śiva originated as an apotheosis of the Psilocybe cubensis mushroom is correct, then the manner of his birth was that his origin was cow dung.* Thus, this decapitation may be explained as Śiva’s impulsive response to an implied insult.

Whatever the reason for this behavior, the myth states that Śiva had to make amends by carrying Brahma’s head (either in his hand or on a staff, accounts vary). Given that Rudra was in all likelihood a mushroom god,¹¹⁸ it is not beyond the bounds of possibility that the skullcup, staff and ashes represent the cap, stem, and spores of a mushroom, respectively. But which mushroom?

Clark Heinrich, drawing evidence from Hindu legends, argues persuasively that Rudra was a homologue of the fly agaric, Amanita muscaria.¹¹⁹ In Sanskrit, Rudra means both “red, ruddy” and “howling, weeping” and either interpretation could be applied to this mushroom. The first is obvious: the most prominent feature of the mushroom is its brilliant red color. When eaten, however, it has a profound effect on the body’s cholinergic system, causing copious flows of mucus, saliva and tears. It is conceivable that the Vedic sages knew the fly agaric mushroom as the “red/weeper.”

FIGURE 31. Mahākāla (“great black one”) is one of several Buddhist versions of Śiva. He has many aspects including Kakasya (“raven”) Mahākāla, shown here. He is often depicted eating a human heart. Tibetan print. [Chandra]

The spores of all Amanitas are white. This is congruent with the notion that the kāpālika’s (white) ashes represent the mushroom’s spores. Some Buddhist texts relate the tale of Śiva’s conversion to Buddhism and the prediction that he would become the Buddha “Ineffable Ash Lord” (Skt. bhasmeśvaranirghoṣa) in the world-system called “Ash Parasol” (Skt. bhasmacchatrā).¹²⁰ It is worthy of note that the Sanskrit word chattra (as in bhasmacchatrā) means both “parasol” and “mushroom.” As we have already noted, there are temples to Śiva in southern India called chattraka (“parasol-like,” or “mushroom-like”) that are mushroom-shaped.

The philosophy of the kāpālika ascetics was known as “the doctrine of soma” (Skt. soma-siddhanta).¹²¹ Although the kāpālikas left no record of their beliefs, this name implies that their teachings centered on the use of the psychoactive Vedic sacrament, soma. This may not be exactly accurate however, as the god Śiva was frequently called Soma or Someśvara (“soma-lord”)m so the term somasiddhanta could conceivably mean “the doctrine of Śiva.” Even if this is the case and the main concern of soma-siddhanta was Śiva and not soma, the kāpālikas, like their god, were notorious for their use of intoxicants.¹²²

As with many of the ancient Vedic gods, Rudra is no longer worshiped as such, his mythos having completely merged with that of Śiva. The orthodox explanation is that Rudra had a change of name, now going by “Śiva.” But it is quite conceivable that Śiva was originally a separate, indigenous mushroom god. Certain clay seals from the pre-Āryan civilization of the Indus Valley bear the image of a man with bovine horns (or a ritual headdress), seated in what appears to be a yogic posture and surrounded by animals. Some scholars have interpreted this as an ancient form of Śiva. If so, it is possible that his cult had existed for millennia before the arrival of the Āryans with their Vedic culture, gods and drugs.

Śiva’s eponym Nīlakāṇṭha (“blue-throat”) and his association with the bull Nandi (“joy-bringer”) would seem to connect Śiva with Psilocybe cubensis, a blue-staining mushroom that grows on cow dung; Yet as Rudra, he is also the “red-colored, who has a thousand eyes,” a clear reference to the red Amanita muscaria with its many eye-like, white spots.

Śiva… haunts cemeteries and places of cremation, wearing serpents round his head and skulls for a necklace, attended by troops of imps and trampling on rebellious demons. He sometimes indulges in revelry, and, heated with drink, dances furiously with his wife Devī the dance called tāṇḍava, while troops of drunken imps caper around them.¹²³

In addition to wearing ashes, the devotees of Śiva known as khareśwarī perform the ascetic practice of continuously standing on one leg, often for years at a time,¹²⁴ preferably beneath a tree.¹²⁵ In his essay Persephone’s Quest, Wasson brings to our attention the numerous depictions of one-legged figures to be found in the art and folklore of many disparate cultures and opines that they may be anthropomorphic representations of (“one-legged”) mushrooms.¹²⁶ But if the khareśwarī are indeed imitating a mushroom, why beneath a tree? If it were simply for shade, surely a wall or house would suffice. Besides, as ascetics, they would shun such comfort. Their choice of location suggests that the mushroom in question has a close, even symbiotic, relationship with a tree. One obvious candidate would be the mycorrhizal species Amanita muscaria.

Similar mushroom symbolism, albeit alluding to Psilocybe cubensis, may also be the motivation behind the deep blue robes of the Vajrayāna monks in sixth century Śri Lanka.¹²⁷

It is possible that Rudra (the red howler-weeper) was the fly agaric god of the invading Āryans and was eventually assimilated with Śiva (the blue-necked cattle god) because they both represented sacred psychoactive mushrooms. The eventual prominence of Śiva may be explained by the fact that Psilocybe cubensis is far more abundant in India than is Amanita muscaria.

The Pāśupata sect, which gave rise to the kāpālika ascetics,¹²⁸ was active from the second century CE and contributed much to Vajrayāna Buddhism. It was the Pāśupata who introduced the homa ceremony to Buddhism, a ritual still used in the Vajrayāna tradition.

RĀHU AND VIṢṆU

The iconic description of Rāhu reads like a list of obscure Vedic allusions and oblique soma references. His bow and arrow echo those carried in the Vedic period by Rudra, and later, by Śiva. Rāhu is often said to arise from a “sea of blood and fat;” that is, a red sea dotted with white gobbets of human fat. The thousand eyes recall the thousand eyes of both Indra and Rudra. The “eyes” and the sea of blood and fat are allusions to the white “eyes” on the blood-red cap of a fly agaric (Amanita muscaria) mushroom. He is engulfed in flames—again this is reminiscent of the fiery red of the fly agaric cap.

Once again, we find Rudra’s bow and arrow but, instead of an antelope skin, Rāhu wears a human skin. The flayed human skin which Rāhu wears as a shawl is likely to represent the “universal veil,” a white “skin” which envelopes the young fly agaric and is characteristic of the Amanita genus generally. During the next phase of its growth, the cap of an Amanita rapidly increases in size, rending this veil asunder, leaving only tiny fragments (the familiar white spots) adhering to the cap.

Possibly the most intriguing detail of Rāhu’s iconography is that his tenth and topmost head is that of a raven. The best-known tradition of fly agaric use is among the tribes of eastern Siberia. In the myths and legends of these people, Raven is a god (part creator, part trickster) who brought the mushroom to mankind. There is also a lesser-known tradition of A. muscaria use in Afghanistan where all mushrooms are called “raven’s bread.”¹²⁹ It would be a neat solution if ravens simply liked to eat this mushroom, but while they are reported to eat various species of fungus, I have been unable to find a single account of them preferring A. muscaria.

Perhaps the most profound difference between the Hindu and Buddhist versions of the Churning of the Ocean is the complete absence of Viṣṇu from the Buddhist story. This god played a crucial role in all the Hindu versions, but Vajrayāna Buddhism seems to have inherited mainly the Śaiva (i.e. Śiva-ist) traditions of Hindu tantra and hardly anything from the Vaiṣnava (i.e. Viṣṇu-ist) tradition.

Viṣṇu is not entirely absent from the Vajrayāna pantheon, however. Now that he has been subjugated by Vajrapāṇi, Rāhu is considered a “protector” of Buddhism and as such, has a retinue of assistant protectors. One of these lesser deities is a god called Mahāviṣṇu (i.e. “Great Viṣṇu”).

INDRA CHURNS THE OCEAN

In one well-known version of the Churning of the Ocean, Viṣṇu transforms himself into a beautiful woman known as Mohinī (“the seductress”) in order to trick the asuras out of their share of amṛita. Like the version contained in The Immaculate Crystal Garland, this variant also made its way into Buddhism, but surprisingly without any mention of Viṣṇu.

We have already mentioned two, historically distinct, Buddhist teachers called Nāgārjuna. One of these (probably the earlier, non-tantric one) wrote a book of pithy verses of advice called A Drop of Nourishment for the People. The tenth verse is as follows:

Never believe soft, artful words.
If you do, you will surely be deceived
As when Indra, king of all the gods
Fooled the asuras so badly.

The Jewel Ornament, an Indian commentary on A Drop of Nourishment, expands upon Nāgārjuna’s allusion to Indra with a brief synopsis of the Churning of the Ocean that is quite unlike any other extant version. For one thing, it is Indra, not Viṣṇu, who is the instigator of the enterprise. The commentary elucidates:

In ancient times, the gods and the asuras churned the great ocean, using Mount Meru as their churning-stick and the two nāga-kings as their rope...

As they churned, various products emerged from the waves. A vase of poison arose which the living beings consumed, then a vase of wine appeared and the asuras stole it. The next thing to appear was a vase of amṛita but when the asuras stole that too, Indra became very angry. Transforming himself into a beautiful maiden, the king of the gods approached the asuras, who were sharing the amṛita between themselves.

“Why aren’t you dividing it as such things are normally done in the world?” he asked them.

“And how are such things normally done?” inquired the asuras.

“Why,” replied the cunning god, “When men make a discovery it is the women who divide up the find.” Persuaded by his “feminine” charms, the asuras handed the amṛita to Indra, who told them, “Before drinking amṛita one should bathe and purify oneself.”

The asuras complied and, while they were bathing, Indra fled to the world of the gods, taking the amṛita with him. Realizing that the asuras would come and try to take it back, Indra placed the sun and moon as guards and ordered them to be ready to hurl knife-wheels at the asuras.

Rāhu, king of the asuras, in an attempt to retrieve the amṛita, assumed the appearance of a god and took a seat among them as the amṛita was about to be shared out. But, at the last moment, the sun and moon saw through his disguise and alerted the gods. The yakṣas threw their knife-wheels, causing Rāhu’s head to burst asunder. However, as Rāhu had managed to drink some amṛita, he could not be killed and grew nine new heads.

In revenge, Rāhu cursed the sun and moon, saying, “You, sun, who begrudged me the amṛita, may people fear you and take shelter from you. And you, moon, may you be eclipsed once a year.” Hearing this, the sun and moon prayed that eclipses would multiply the merit of virtuous acts one hundred thousand times. By this aspiration they hoped to be released from the curse.

When Rāhu’s head split open, his blood gave rise to the garlic plant and the amṛita he spilled became myrobalan.

There are many items worthy of our attention in this passage. We will examine each of these in turn, the first being the mention of Mt. Meru. This peak (also called Sumeru) is the center of the universe in Buddhist cosmology and, as with the classical Mount Olympus, it was also the home of the gods. As Mt. Mandara has no special significance to Buddhists,n this substitution is quite understandable.

Although this is a Buddhist redaction of the myth, there is no mention of the bodhisattva Vajrapāṇi in this version. Instead, we have the original “thunderbolt-wielder” (Skt. vajrapāṇi): Indra, the soma-lord (Skt. somapati). In the Vedas, Viṣṇu is merely an aspect of Surya (the sun god) whereas Indra was king of all the gods. It was not until the Puranic period that Viṣṇu emerged as a great deity with ten (or more) incarnations (Skt. avatara). For these reasons, we might consider that this version reflects an older, Vedic, stratum of belief. Also note that two nāga-kings are used as the churning rope. I can find no Hindu source for this detail but, as we shall see, it crops up frequently in Buddhist iconography.o

The knife-wheels may be based on actual weapons hurled in battle. We shall encounter such weapons in a later chapter when we consider Viṣṇu’s battle-discus, known as “Beautiful” (Skt. sudarśana). It is unclear whether we are meant to assume that the sun and moon are the “yakṣas” who threw their knife-wheels. As we have already seen, Buddhist texts often disparage Hindu deities by referring to them as yakṣas. Rāhu’s prior consumption of amṛita is also a mystery. We are not told exactly when he drank it (perhaps while it was in the hands of the asuras?) but this is only a brief synopsis. There may have been a far more detailed source text. Note too, that Rāhu gets only nine new heads; the tenth head, that of a raven, is not mentioned in this version.

As in The Immaculate Crystal Garland, this “Indra variant” provides an explanation for the enmity between Rāhu and the sun and moon. But this is a somewhat different explanation which also explains the merit-multiplying properties of eclipses.

Finally, we are given a clear connection between the myrobalan fruit and amṛita – a connection which crops up frequently in this narrative (vide e.g. the story of Vyāli, pp. 127-128). However, I frankly admit that the reference to garlic has me stumped.

FIGURE 32. Though identical to Rahu in appearance, this is merely his attendant, Great Viṣṇu. Tibetan print. [Chandra]

______________

a This is title given by Schlagintweit, “Chakdor” being a Tibetan abbreviation of Chakna Dorje, literally “vajra-in-hand,” a translation of Vajrapāṇi.

b Asuras were anti-gods, analogous to the titans in Greek mythology. The Tibetan text uses the word (lhamayin, literally “non-god”).

c Note the similarity to the Hindu gods Indra and Rudra, both of whom were covered with a thousand eyes. In the case of these gods, their myriad eyes have been likened to the white spots on the Amanita muscaria mushroom. [Heinrich, C., 1995]

d Buddhaghoṣa, writing in Pali, calls him Sakka. This is simply the Pali equivalent of Sanskrit Sakra (“might”), an eponym of Indra.

e The author of this commentary is not named. I assume it to be Vyāsa.

f Note that there are several elixirs and that they are brought by the demons’ womenfolk. Given the Āryans’ demonization of indigenous peoples, does this imply a knowledge of entheogens among indigenous women?

g Pātāla should not be confused with Potala (or Potalaka), the Pure Land of Avalokiteśvara.

h Sādhaka one who engages in a sādhana (spiritual practice). In tantric practice, this usually involves the visualization of a deity while reciting the deity’s mantra.

i Probably Momordica monadelpha.

j “Phu” was how a snake’s sibilant “voice” was expressed in Sanskrit. “Phu! Phu!” is therefore equivalent to “Hiss! Hiss!”

k Remarkably for the age in which he lived, Buddhagupta had traveled to such distant lands as Madagascar, Zanzibar and Sumatra.

l Strictly speaking, Ps. Cubensis grows through the cow dung.

m Cf. Somapati (“soma-lord”) the chief by-name of Indra.

n It is, however, mentioned in The Praises of Tārā but myrobalan has been attributed to borrowing from Hindu sources (Wayman, A., 1983).

o See, for instance, Sahasrapātra Mañjuśrī, p.160.

INITIATIONS AND SIDDHIS

The eight mantra goddesses initiate,
And one should taste the nectar.

Indrabodhi¹³⁰

ANOINTING THE SUCCESSOR

KINGS AND DYNASTIES OF KINGS are to be found throughout the history of the world yet the actual mechanics of how one becomes a king are far from universal. In the system called primogeniture, the eldest son of a king ascends to the throne upon his father’s death. This works well unless the son in question turns out to be an impatient cutthroat with patricidal tendencies. Perhaps this is why, in a ritual at least as old as the Vedic period (c. 1500 BCE), an Indian king would formally appoint a trustworthy successor in a ceremony called abhiṣeka (Sanskrit, “anointing”).

Though the tantric religious movement began much later in India’s history (c. 600 CE), this royal ceremony provided the basic format of Vajrayāna (tantric) Buddhist initiations. These initiations are both secret and an essential prerequisite for tantric practice. The ritual confers both the ability and permission to perform the tantric practices associated with the specific deity of the initiation. For this reason, when Vajrayāna Buddhism was adopted in Tibet, abhiṣeka was translated as wang, meaning “empowerment.” Tradition has it that even if one could discover the secrets for oneself, without an initiation, the practices would bring no benefit. In a Vajrayāna abhiṣeka a guru reveals the details of a deity’s appearance and mantra. The initiate’s mind then “merges with the mind of the guru” as they visualize and chant together. Without this encounter with the guru’s mind, it is said, meditation on the deity and reciting the deity’s mantra is futile. As we shall see, the actual reason for this may lie in the entheogenic potion which was ingested during the ceremony.

FIGURE 33. A goddess pours amṛita from a flask adorned with peacock feathers. Tibetan print, detail. [Crowley]

Readers who are familiar with the solemn coronation rituals of European royalty may be surprised to learn that in ancient India the royal anointing ceremony required the would-be king to drink a psychoactive liquid, a detail which has been carried over into (and is central to) the tantric initiation. The potion used in the earliest form of the Hindu ceremony of anointing kings was called soma though in Vajrayāna initiations the drink is amṛita. This is a characteristic difference between Hindu and Buddhist traditions: in Hinduism, the terms soma and amṛita are used interchangeably but in Vajrayāna Buddhism the drug is known only as amṛita. It is almost as if the name soma were deliberately avoided.

The earliest description of the royal abhiṣeka is to be found in the Aitareya Brāhmaṇa, a manual for Vedic priests. In this work, the ritual called the “great abhiṣeka of kings” is compared to the “great abhiṣeka of Indra,” the mythic occasion when the gods took Indra as their king. Indra was so fond of soma. He was called soma-lord (Skt. somapati) and is associated with soma in many myths.

Both soma and wine (in the form of the goddess Surā) were products of the Churning of the Ocean but during the “great abhiṣeka of kings,” it is wine that is used, even though it is referred to as “soma.” Presumably, at this period, the priestly caste considered real soma too precious to squander on mere princelings. Note that unlike the soma sacrifice, the priest does not make the sacrament during this ceremony. Hymns to Indra are chanted over a bowl of surā; the royal chaplain then places the bowl in the hands of the would-be king. Although surā was merely alcohol, he behaves as though it is the psychedelic soma, presenting it to the king with the words:

With thy sweetest, most intoxicating
Stream be thou purified, O soma,
Pressed for Indra to drink…

Kauśītaki Brāhmaṇa¹³¹

The king-to-be then drinks the surā and, keeping up the pretense, replies with verses about drinking soma, “the juice which Indra drank mightily.” At this point, the Brāhmaṇa (i.e. Vedic commentary) remarks that the surā is no longer just surā, but has been either magically transformed into soma by the power of the ritual, or (the text offers two explanations) the surā now “contains” soma. This offers a curious parallel to the Catholic doctrine of “accident and essence” which is central to the dogma of transubstantiation. According to dogma, once the bread and wine of the Christian sacrament is blessed, it only appears to be bread and wine (its “accident”); in its most fundamental reality (its “essence”) it is the actual body and blood of Christ.

FIGURE 34. King Kokilipada being initiated. The figure on the right holds an amṛita-flask, with its customary spray of peacock feathers, above the king’s head. Mongolian print. [Chandra]

The Aitareya Brāhmaṇa clearly distinguishes soma from surā, suggesting that the identity of the soma plant was known, if only to the caste of priests. It is also apparent that, if even the priests of kings had to play make-believe, genuine soma was almost impossible to obtain. But not entirely impossible. Elsewhere in the same Brāhmaṇa, we are given the ritual to be used when buying soma from the “evil” soma-sellers.

INITIATIONS

If one is sincerely interested in the existential approach to the hidden energies of Being, one ought to be initiated in order to mature oneself.

Hidden Lamp of Pure Awareness¹³²

In Hinduism ever since the earliest Vedic period, soma has also been known as amṛita. Subsequently, albeit at a much later date, the use of a potion called amṛita was an essential component of Vajrayāna Buddhist initiations. Indeed, many Tibetan lamas insist that without the ingestion of some substance, an initiation is invalid, the three essential components of an initiation being: the substance to be ingested, the transmission of the visualization of a deity, and the transmission of that deity’s mantra.¹³³

One of the first Tibetan lamas to settle in the United States was the late Chogyam Trungpa, Rinpoche, a fluent English-speaker and charismatic teacher who attracted many western students and, incidentally is reputed to have taken LSD with some of them.¹³⁴ Even though the tradition of abhiṣeka is millennia old, Trungpa was aware of its regal origins. He was also quite clear on the role played by amṛita:

In the tradition of anuttara-tantra, the student receives a fourfold abhiṣeka. The entire ceremony is called an abhiṣeka, and each of the four parts is also called an abhiṣeka, because they are each a particular empowerment. The four abhiṣekas are all connected with experiencing the phenomenal world as a sacred maṇḍala… after taking the samaya oath, the student receives the first abhiṣeka, the abhiṣeka of the vase… Symbolically, the abhiṣeka of the vase is the coronation of the student as prince or princess, a would-be king of the maṇḍala. It signifies the student’s graduation from the ordinary world to the world of continuity, the tantric world…

Amṛita is used in conferring the second abhiṣeka, the secret abhiṣeka. This transmission dissolves the student’s mind into the mind of the teacher of the lineage. In general, amṛita is the principle of intoxicating extreme beliefs, belief in ego, and dissolving the boundary between confusion and sanity so that co-emergence can be realized… a By drinking amṛita, a mixture of liquor and other substances …the mind of the student merges with the mind of the teacher and the mind of the yidam,b so that the boundary line between confusion and wakefulness begins to dissolve. In the third abhiṣeka… the abhiṣeka of knowledge and wisdom, the student begins to experience joy, mahāsukha [literally, “great bliss”]—uniting with the world. This is sometimes called the union of bliss and emptiness, which signifies greater openness and greater vision taking place.

The fourth abhiṣeka… is known as the abhiṣeka of suchness [i.e. reality]. The student experiences that he does not have to dwell on the past, present or future. He could just wake himself up on the spot. The student’s mind is opened to the ultimate notion of sacred outlook, in which there is nobody to “flash” sacred outlook. There is just a sense of the doer and the doing dissolving into one…

The Vajrayoginī Shrine and Practice¹³⁵

These passages underscore the fact that, despite the innocuous composition of the modern formulation, this amṛita is spoken of as an inebriant. The very word “intoxicating” is used, albeit in an unusual context – that of subduing “extreme beliefs” and “belief in ego.” Also, the allusions to ego loss and “dissolving the boundary between confusion and sanity” are strikingly reminiscent of concepts commonly encountered in accounts of psychedelic experiences.c This is especially noticeable in the following passage from a Dzogchen text:d

When… using ritual substances, then subtle, ordinary accomplishments manifest. By transforming the inner world of one’s experience, one’s own body image is imprinted with the form of the deity. Through the initiation into the state of pure presence which is outside of time, one’s own body is experienced as insubstantial and never having come into existence… By seeing the nature of one’s own mind, the state of contemplation shines forth… All latching on to ‘me’ and ‘mine’ has been exhausted; in this state without grasping there is nothing tainted or anything to correct.

Hidden Lamp of Pure Awareness¹³⁶

The implications of such descriptions as these are twofold: firstly, that the original amṛita, as employed in the earliest Vajrayāna initiations, was potent enough to induce a profound psychedelic statee and, secondly, that Buddhist initiates knew this and employed it for precisely that purpose. As the student is told during one abhiṣeka:

By the power of this nectar [i.e. amṛita], a burning-like blissful feeling and warmth is generated within you; thus the Initiation of Wisdom is attained by you.

Initiation Ritual of the Fierce Guru¹³⁷

Note that the amṛita is said to produce “a burning-like feeling and warmth.” These are actual, physical symptoms. Symbolic substitutes and visualizations do not have physical side effects. There is no question that the amṛita spoken of here is a physical substance and psychoactive, at that. In contrast to such historical accounts, in which amṛita is a truly potent psychedelic, the amṛita used in modern initiations is merely an infusion of herbs and grain. This potion, despite being the object of copious blessings and mantras, has no perceptible psychoactivity. Even so, there are those who contend that this liquid is still considered capable of producing the necessary mind meld, as long as the student has sufficient faith. Such feats of the imagination probably became necessary as reliable supplies of amṛita were no longer available. This could well have occurred shortly after 1300 CE, when the great Buddhist institutions in India fell to Muslim invaders.

Of the four abhiṣekas, only the first, or “vase abhiṣeka,” is based on the Vedic abhiṣeka ceremony, the subsequent abhiṣekas seem to be tantric additions. Unlike the Vedic ritual, however, the student is given only water to drink in the “vase abhiṣeka,”f the amṛita being administered at the start of the second, or “secret abhiṣeka.”

Lexicographers say it is called “secret” because it is the initiation obtained from tasting the secret substance.

mK’as Grub.rJe (1385 – 1438)¹³⁸

Hindu scholar Agehananda Bharati has observed that the traditional phases of a tantric ritual seem designed to synchronize with the effects of a drug.¹³⁹ In his example, the ritual was the Hindu rite of maithuna (i.e. “tantric sex”) and the drug was bhang (a cannabis drink) but the same principles may well apply here.

If we accept Trungpa’s description, drinking amṛita (at least in its original formulation) produces psychedelic effects that first begin to manifest by the end of the second abhiṣeka. One might reasonably ask how long this takes. It depends on the length of the text used and number of students being initiated, but the second abhiṣeka can vary from fifteen to forty-five minutes.

As the effects of the amṛita continue to intensify, the student is introduced to philosophical concepts of increasing subtlety in two further abhiṣekas. When the effects are at their peak, the student (now an initiate) experiences the mahāsukha (“great bliss”) of nonduality and finally, with the fourth abhiṣeka, breaks through into the state of “suchness” (Skt. tathatā).

Thus, we see that in order to practice Vajrayāna (tantric) Buddhism the student must “meet the guru’s mind” in an abhiṣeka ceremony. Furthermore, drinking a liquid called amṛita is an indispensable part of that ceremony.

In subsequent chapters I will provide evidence for the historical use of psychoactive plants as a spiritual path within tantric Buddhism. The first step on this journey of personal exploration, the abhiṣeka initiation ritual, was a drug-induced trip, guided by the initiating guru.

At the peak of the amṛita effects, while the student is in a blissful state of nondual consciousness, a deity and a mantra are revealed. The student is invited to visualize the deity as each detail is described and its symbolism explained. If we imagine for a moment that amṛita was some form of psychedelic, similar to LSD or Psilocybe mushrooms, then the student may have found this feat of visualization to be astonishingly easy. Often, on such psychedelic drugs, one need only think of something to bring it to the mind’s eye—fully formed, minutely detailed, in 3D and Technicolor. We may imagine that, as the students listened, the guru’s words magically transformed into images, occupying the front and center of their imaginations.

Furthermore, given the student’s amṛita-enhanced frame of mind, the symbolism may have seemed especially profound. All in all, this must have made for a powerfully impressive ceremony, one which forged a powerful bond between the symbols revealed, the syllables intoned, and the bliss of nonduality.

At the conclusion of the initiation the initiates take certain vows, most commonly to recite the mantra a certain number of times each day. Henceforth, the initiates devote some time every day to the sādhana (spiritual practice) of mantra recitation while visualizing the deity. Such practices could be seen as attempts to recreate the drug state without recourse to the drug itself, inducing the state of nondual bliss by a form of hypnotic suggestion. Then, once a month, initiates might also come together for a secret, tantric feast called a gaṇacakra in which they would renew their acquaintance with the effects of amṛita and perform their yogic practices together. It should also be said that this was, at least in theory, a feast of the senses. Richly pleasing sense objects—perfumes, silken robes, music, and morsels of delicious food—would be enjoyed while in the state of nondual consciousness. The tāntrikas would appreciate these sensual pleasures while simultaneously recognizing their nature as “void.” These gaṇacakras were often the setting for those sexual practices which have become synonymous with tantra in the West. These sexual techniques, which remained secret for centuries, are now available to anyone with a library card. The tantras have many more secrets to tell however, such as the ritual use of drugs and the supreme secret, enlightenment.

We have seen that between 2,000 and 1,500 BCE, a group of Āryan poet-priests composed the Ṛig Veda, singing the praises of a drug they called both soma and amṛita. However, it seems that the drug came from beyond the Āryan areag and thus, in order to obtain it, Brahmin priests were compelled to deal with non-Āryan soma sellers. References to these merchants in the Vedic texts show that they were despised and reviled.

A Vedic commentary states that

... the soma-seller is evil.

Aitareya Brāhmaṇa¹⁴⁰

The actual Vedic pronouncement is, as one might expect, sententiously pompous:

Ours be light, darkness be on the soma seller.

Yajur Veda¹⁴¹

Indeed, the soma dealer was so “evil” that it was considered appropriate to cheat him, and even physically abuse him. If the soma is bought with gold, it is snatched back.

The gold by which he buys the soma he should retake by force.

Śatapatha Brāhmaṇa¹⁴²

FIGURE 35. The female siddhā Maṇibhadrā in flight. Mongolian print [Chandra]

The soma could also be bought with cattle, which presents a problem: it’s not as easy to snatch back a cow. Accordingly, a commentary advises that the purchaser pull off a classic “bait and switch.” First, the soma seller is shown a fine cow of great value but then, at the crucial moment, he is given a far inferior animal. Naturally, it was to be expected that the vendor would cry foul at such ill treatment, so the approved course of action was to beat him with a stick until he stopped complaining.¹⁴³ In an excess of Brahminic zeal, the Yajur Veda even specifies the ritually correct kind of stick (a “spotted cane”) to be used for this task.

The Śatapatha Brāhmaṇa compares the merits of several soma substitutes. This indicates that, by the later Vedic period, supplies of the genuine drug had become problematic. Yet, approximately two thousand years later, some Buddhists performed recognizable versions of Vedic rituals with a potion they called amṛita. Could this Buddhist amṛita possibly be same as the ancient amṛita of the Vedas?

SIDDHIS

King Bhojadeva of Malava in the west, along with 1,000 courtiers, became invisible. In the South, at Kongkuna, King Haribhadra together with innumerable servants perfected the siddhi of making pills and, as a result, for between 100 and 200 years more than 100,000 beings attained siddhi.

Golden Rosary of Tārā¹⁴⁴

The literal translation of the Sanskrit word siddhi is “an accomplishment” but the closest modern term would be “superpower.” Buddhist accounts of siddhis make a clear distinction between the “mundane” siddhis (i.e. superpowers) and the “supreme” siddhi, which is complete enlightenment. The mundane siddhis are also contrasted with riddhis—supernatural abilities such as clairvoyance, telepathy, bilocation, etc., which are said to result from long-term meditation practice.

Traditionally, there are said to be eight siddhis but those eight vary widely between lists. The concept of the eight siddhis is an ancient Indian folk tradition with many variants and it is possible to find Hindu, Buddhist and Jain versions. The following list provides a representative set of eight superpower siddhis from the Buddhist tradition. Traditionally, such lists begin with “levitation,” which in this case is represented by the “sword of flight” although “flight” also has its own entry.

The eight siddhis:

khaḍga | sword [of flight]
añjana | eye medicine
pādalepa | running
antardhāna | invisibility
rasayana | elixir [of immortality]
khecara | flying
bhūcara | pill-making
pātāla | [power over] the underworld

Some commentaries explain the siddhi of the sword as being invincibility in battle, while others state that it is a magic sword which confers the power of flight. The latter is also implied by the iconography of the siddhas, as the siddha known as khaḍgapa (“the swordsman”) is normally shown in flight, holding a sword.

One strange aspect of the sword-siddhi is that the sword in question often originates as a tongue of a zombie (Skt. vetala, Tib. ro-lang) which, when bitten offh miraculously transforms into a magical sword. Let us say that I am not entirely convinced of the reality of vetalas and strongly suspect that the adept was not required to French-kiss a corpse. On the other hand, there is surely some meaning hidden in this bizarre scenario. We will revisit the topic of “revived corpses” in a later chapter when we consider the process of drying and reconstituting the fly agaric mushroom.

The añjana-siddhi is a collyrium or eye-ointment which, when applied to the eyes, allows one to see supernatural beings. Naturally, we ask ourselves what psychoactive drugs would (a) be capable of absorption through the eyes and (b) produce an effect which could be described as “seeing supernatural beings.”

FIGURE 36. Datura, a dangerously toxic deliriant. Its flowers are a traditional offering to Śiva. [Wiki]

The compounds which come most readily to mind are the tropane alkaloids found in certain solanaceous plants.i These substances (e.g. atropine, hyoscyamine, and scopolamine) are found in datura species, henbane (Hyoscyamus niger), deadly nightshade (Atropa belladonna) and other members of the Solanaceae. The tropanes may be absorbed through the skin and especially through mucous membranes and the tissues around the eyes. They are said to have been a common ingredient in the “flying ointments” used by European witches.¹⁴⁵

The elixir of youth is, of course, amṛita. The others are self-explanatory though a little more might, perhaps, be said about the pill-making siddhi. Buddhist scholar David Templeman, speaking of the pill-making siddhi, states that the pills “can be compounded out of various substances such as metals, herbs, saint’s urine, etc.”j Could it be that these “saints” had eaten fly agaric before contributing their urine to the pill-making process? Bhūcara means “to shape into a ball,”k and the bhūcara-siddhi is the ability to make “thumb-sized” pills of the nine kinds of flesh (human, elephant, horse, cow, dog, ass, camel, buffalo and wolf)l and pills of the five amṛitas (feces, urine, blood, pus and semen).

The manufacture of such pills and their visionary effects is described, albeit in guarded terms, in a Buddhist tantra:

By their mere consumption the mothers of the spirits are accomplished: elephant and horse, and so too cow and dog, mixed with the great one [i.e. human flesh] and also the five wisdom nectars...
[You may] plunder from the Buddhas and enjoy sublime celestial girls. With vajra eyes one will see... Buddhas equal [in number] to grains of sand in the Ganges residing in their vajra realms [and] pure realms numerous as sand in the Ganges. The features of awakened body, speech, and mind, the intrinsic condition of all objects - know them to arise from the mind’s dance.

Māhāmāyā Tantra¹⁴⁶

This text clearly implies that the bhūcara siddhi was an actual tradition of practice, although I would venture to suggest that the stated ingredients of these pills are not to be understood at face value and that they probably represent various drug plants. A parallel may be found in the medieval European medical tradition called in German, Dreckapotheke (“filth medicine”). In this system, the identities of medicinal plants were deliberately concealed by giving them disgusting names, presumably to preserve professional secrets. Unfortunately, knowledge of the true meanings became lost and doctors began to take the recipes literally. However, though we assume “cow flesh” to be “twilight language,”m references to cow dung should probably be taken at face value.

FIGURE 37. “New improved healing with Filth-Medicine, namely feces and urine.” Title page of “Dreck-Apotheke,” a 17th century German medical text. [Public domain]

Thus, when a certain King Puṣpabhūti visited the holy man Bhairavācārya, he found him:

…seated on a tiger skin, which was stretched on ground smeared with green [i.e. fresh] cow dung, and whose outline was marked with a boundary ridge of ashes.

Harṣa-carita¹⁴⁷

Also, some instructions for conducting an initiation ceremony require cow dung…

The maṇḍala ground should be anointed with unfallen cow dung, with charnel ground ash, together with the five ambrosias.

Cakrasaṃvara Tantra¹⁴⁸

Note that the “maṇḍala ground should be anointed with… the five ambrosias (Skt. pañcāmṛita).” This mention of the ambrosial sacrament together with cow dung is hardly coincidental. It surely indicates that Psilocybe cubensis mushroom, which grows from cow dung, was a vital component of the pañcāmṛita concoction. It is also significant that, in both cases cited above, ashes are also employed. One of the eponyms of the god Śiva, an apotheosis of Psilocybe cubensis, is Bhasmabhuta (“Made of Ashes”). We must bear in mind Heinrich’s suggestion that the repeated occurrence of ashes in the Śiva mythos and the wearing of ash by Śaiva yogins are symbolic references to mushroom spores.¹⁴⁹

THE EIGHTY-FOUR SIDDHAS

The role models of Buddhist tantra are a group of eighty-four practitioners who lived in the centuries prior to 1200 CE. They are known as siddhas (“adepts”) or mahāsiddhas (“great adepts”) and their exploits are recorded in short, often cryptic, biographies. A celebrated collection of these tales called Lives of the Eighty-Four Siddhas (Skt. caturaśīti-siddha-pravṛitti), was compiled by Abhayadatta, an Indian Vajrayāna scholar.¹⁵⁰

The word siddha is, of course, derived from siddhi (“superpower”). While Lives of the Eighty-four Siddhas does mention some of the mundane siddhis, the focus of the book is on the ultimate siddhi: enlightenment. There is one biography, however, which speaks of four of the mundane siddhis almost as if they were physical substances. This tale describes the fate of a family of water buffalo herders who crossed paths with the siddha Carbaripa. Carbaripa sprinkled consecrated water on each of them, transforming them all, mother, father and child, into stone Buddha statues.

The herdsman’s young son gained the eight great siddhis: from his testicles came khecari-siddhi;n from his vajra (penis) came the nectar that transmutes base metal to gold; from his lower gate (anus) came the ambrosia of deathlessness; and from his eyes came the power of flight and so on.

He became famous throughout the land, and the king of Campā and many buffalo folk came to pay respect.

Lives of the Eighty-four Siddhas¹⁵¹

This story is also found in the histories of Buddhist lineages compiled by Tārānātha.¹⁵² Here we have four siddhis, one of which (the nectar that transmutes base metal to gold) is not on the traditional list. The reason for the discrepancies is that this is not the usual Buddhist list of siddhis but one borrowed from the Nath lineage of Hindu tantra. There is no doubt though, that these “siddhis,” coming as they do from various parts of the body, are more akin to substances than superpowers. Perhaps they were substances that conferred certain “powers” on a temporary basis, that is. Some psychedelic mushrooms grow from dung and, thus, they may be the “ambrosia of deathlessness” which came from the “boy’s” anus. Similarly, considering the existing traditions of fly agaric that involve urine-drinking, we must suspect that this mushroom is implied here. I must admit, however, that the “testicles” allusion eludes me.

This account is an extremely brief tale, so the fact that it includes a reference to “buffalo folk” must be regarded as significant. It should be noted in this regard that there is a small but potently psychedelic mushroom (Panaeolus cambodginiensis) that grows only on the dung of water buffaloes. This might explain the many references to buffaloes in tantric literature. Buffaloes are also to be found in Vajrayāna iconography. For instance, the vāhana (the “vehicle” or symbolic animal ridden by a god) of Rāhu, is a buffalo; except that, on very rare occasions, he is shown riding a peacock. The use of the peacock as a psychedelic symbol is discussed in the next chapter and the fact that it is interchangeable with a buffalo tends to confirm the psychedelic relevance of buffaloes.

VYĀLI

Many of the life stories in Lives of the Eighty-Four Siddhas contain references to a physical substance called amṛita, but only in two instances is it the main subject of the tale. The first of these chronologically is the tale of Vyāli, eighty-fourth of the eighty-four siddhas. His name is Sanskrit for “untrustworthy” or “the cheat,” a name reminiscent of the “untrustworthy,” “cheating” soma dealers mentioned in the Brāhmaṇas.o Alone among the eighty-four siddhas, Vyāli did not seek enlightenment but simply wished to live forever—a desire that he fulfilled by means of amṛita. In fact, it would seem that the whole point of this story is to decry the misuse of amṛita for nonspiritual purposes. Briefly, it is as follows:

FIGURE 38. Vyāli and his wife hold books. To the left is a bowl of pills. The person kneeling in the foreground is probably Nāgārjuna, buying the secret of amṛita. Mongolian print. [Chandra]

Vyāli is a Hindu of the priestly Brahmin caste in the town of Apatra [or Apatrara] who practices alchemy, trying to make amṛita, the elixir of immortality. Although he tries compounds of many different drugs, his experiments are unsuccessful. After twelve years, destitute by his purchases of mercury,p he throws his alchemy books into the Ganges and goes to Benares as a beggar. On arriving in that city, Vyāli is approached by a prostitute who shows him a strange book she has found while bathing in the Ganges. Recognizing his old alchemy text, he tells her his story. Impressed, she offers him money to continue his quest. With her support, he buys more mercury and tries for a further year but, due to his ignorance of the red myrobalan fruit, the “signs of transformation” do not appear.

One day, the prostitute is bathing and a “flower which was self-formed” attaches itself to her finger. As she plucks it off, a portion of it falls into Vyāli’s alchemical mixture and they see the “signs of transformation.” The prostitute (now his wife, it would seem) mixes some in with his food and for the first time he experiences the desired effect. They subsequently eat the substance and also feed it to their horse with the result that all three “live without dying.”

Though immortal, Vyāli retains his selfish nature and jealously guards the secret of the elixir, even from the gods. To this end, he finds an inaccessible swamp where he lives on top of a high rock under a tree. Nevertheless, the siddha Nāgārjuna vowing to restore the lost secret of amṛita to the land of India, flies to Vyāli’s hideout by means of a pair of magic sandals. After obtaining the recipe for amṛita in exchange for one of the sandals, Nāgārjuna lectures Vyāli on greed and advises him to find a guru.¹⁵³

First, we are told that Vyāli’s’s efforts do not meet with success because he lacks knowledge of the “red emblic myrobalan” (Emblica officinalis). Then, in almost the next breath, the missing ingredient, supplied by the prostitute/wife, is said to be a “self-formed flower.” Logically, we must assume that this self-formed flower is identical to emblic myrobalan, but myrobalan, as employed in medicine, is not a flower, it is a dried fruit. The most likely answer to this conundrum is that myrobalan and the flower are both symbolic substitutes for the genuine article: the vital ingredient, too secret to mention explicitly.

The dried fruit of emblic myrobalan is not only an important Indian medicine, it is the basis of a commercial red dye and, incidentally, is a constituent of Tibetan amṛita pills. Its most common name in Tibetan is kyu-rura but it also has the synonyms natso-neh (“source of youth”) and langtso-tanjeh (“sustainer of youthfulness”), both of which sound like poetic translations of amṛita, “immortality.” Indeed, sometimes it is even referred to as a-mri-ta.¹⁵⁴ Clearly this is a transliteration of the Sanskrit amṛita, implying (a) that this term was used for the fruit in India and (b) that the Tibetans did not consider it to be actual amṛita as that would have been translated as dutsi (bDud.rTsi).

Emblic myrobalan is not known to be psychoactive but the kernels of beleric myrobalan (Terminalia bellirica), a related species, are eaten by the Lodha people of West Bengal “for hallucination.”¹⁵⁵ My guess is that, rather than any psychic effects, it is the fruit’s property of yielding an intense red dye which is implied here. This redness suggests the brilliant scarlet of the fly agaric mushroom. While certainly not “a flower,” mushrooms are often thought to be “self-formed” and a fly agaric (Amanita muscaria) is as colorful as any bloom.

There is no record of an actual Indian city called Apatra but it is possible that the name provides a clue to unlocking further meaning. It sounds very similar to the Sanskrit words apātra (“worthless”) and apattra (“leafless”), both of which might be applied to mushrooms, which were considered worthless in Hindu tradition. Then again, Apatra is only one syllable short of atapatra (“parasol,” “mushroom”). We will return to the topic of “foreclipped” forms of atapatra in a later chapter.

Lives of the Eighty-four Siddhas also includes Nāgārjuna’s own biography which tells how he imparted the formula for amṛita to his disciple King Śālabhanda and his subsequent death. We must conclude, then, that although it comes earlier in Lives of the Eighty-four Siddhas, this episode must have occurred after his encounter with Vyāli. Although Nāgārjuna appears as the guru of four other siddhas in their own stories, he had no human guru himself. Could this be because amṛita is essential to the siddha lineage?

According to Tibetan lamas, there can be no transmission of the lineage without an abhiṣeka (initiation) and there can be no abhiṣeka without amṛita. Also, we are told that the secret of amṛita had been lost to India until Nāgārjuna acquired the formula from Vyāli. By this logic then, Nāgārjuna could not have been initiated by an Indian guru as he was the only person in India with real amṛita. Tradition avoids this awkward point by asserting that Nāgārjuna received his initiation from the goddess Tārā, who appeared to him in a vision. The suspicion therefore arises that this revelatory vision may have been induced by a draft of amṛita.

KARṆARIPA/ĀRYADEVA

It must be said that this is not the same Nāgārjuna as the one who, according to legend, was given the Mahāyāna sūtras by the nāgas. Several centuries must have intervened between Nāgārjuna the philosopher and Nāgārjuna the siddha. Tibetans seldom make that distinction, however. Nāgārjuna, they say, had the secret of amṛita and is therefore immortal. Of the four Lives in which Nāgārjuna plays the role of guru, three are brief and lacking in detail but the fourth is a further story in which amṛita is central to the narrative. This is the tale of Āryadeva, one that is particularly interesting as it describes siddhas making amṛita by urinating into a bucket. Presumably, this is related to the secret of amṛita which Nāgārjuna learned from the worldly, unenlightened non-Buddhist Vyāli.

In his paper “Soma siddhas and alchemical enlightenment: psychedelic mushrooms in Buddhist tradition,” Scott Hajicek-Dobberstein¹⁵⁶ uncovers an abundance of clues in the tale of the siddha Karṇaripa that indicate that, at least for some siddhas, one version of amṛita was the fly agaric mushroom. The story may be summarized as follows:

A man who had been miraculously bornq becomes a monk and excels as a scholar but, even though head of a hundred thousand scholar-monks, he is dissatisfied with his lack of realization. He seeks instruction from the great alchemist and famous guru Nāgārjuna, who he eventually finds in a forest collecting ingredients for an elixir of immortality. Nāgārjuna initiates him into the practice of the “secret assembly” (Skt. guhyasamāja) and takes him as his pupil.

Both Nāgārjuna and Karṇaripa beg for alms in the nearby town. They go to the hermitage to eat but Karṇaripa has been given “delicious food” whereas Nāgārjuna has not. This causes Nāgārjuna to scold Karṇaripa, telling him to collect only what may be held on the end of a pin. The townswomen find a way around this restriction by baking a wheat cake topped with “various kinds of delicious food,” and balance this on the pin.

Karṇaripa offers this delicacy to his guru who eats it hungrily but, due to the deceptive nature of the ruse, tells Karṇaripa that he must remain at the forest hut. Even so, a tree goddess brings him food and reveals her entire body to him. Upon Nāgārjuna’s return, Karṇaripa offers him this food and describes how he received it from the goddess. The guru finds her tree, but she reveals only “her arm, up to the shoulder.” For this reason, Nāgārjuna asks her, “You actually showed your form to my student, why do you not show it to me?”

From the pine tree comes the answer, “Obviously, you have not abandoned a portion of your defilement. Your student has completely abandoned his defilement, so he saw me.” Master and student discuss this response, then both agree that they “need to eat the alchemical medicine.” Nāgārjuna gave a portion of it to “Āryadeva who was called Karṇaripa”r and eats some himself.

Karṇaripa smears some of the “alchemical medicine” on a dead tree which bursts into leaf. Nāgārjuna, offended at the waste, demands that Karṇaripa produce elixir for him. Karṇaripa complies by urinating into a pot full of water and stirring it with a twig, thus turning it into “a pot of elixir.” He hands it to his guru, whereupon Nāgārjuna applies it to another dead tree which immediately bursts into leaf. Nāgārjuna interprets this as an indication of his pupil’s attainment and Karṇaripa floats up into the sky where he is seen by a female follower.s She begs for, and is given, one of Karṇaripa’s eyes. From here on, the monk is known as Āryadeva the one-eyed.

He continues to levitate to the height of seven palm trees when he performs an inverted prostration to his guru and disappears in a shower of flowers.

In many disparate cultures, “one-eyed” is a term commonly applied to the Amanita muscaria mushroom. This is due to its appearance as the bright red cap begins to split the white universal veil, looking like a bright red eye with white eye-lids peering up through the undergrowth. For most of his brief hagiography, the siddha is called Karṇaripa which, as Hajicek-Dobberstein points out, derives from the Sanskrit kāṇa, “one-eyed, monoculous, blind of one eye”¹⁵⁷ and in Tibetan he is called Michikpa (“one-eyed”). We are led to believe that he was given this name because he donated his right eye to an anonymous lady follower, yet this does not happen until the end of the story. It would make more sense if we were told that this was when he became known as Karṇaripa, but instead he acquires the name Āryadeva. There were at least two Nāgārjunas, the first being the celebrated first century philosopher of the Mahāyāna, and the second, a much later Vajrayāna siddha-alchemist. The Tibetan tradition treats these two as the same person. Curiously, they both had a student called Āryadeva and the Tibetans conflate these, too. In the case of Karṇaripa, Hajicek-Dobberstein sees his miraculous birth and other attributes as clues that this “one-eyed one” is, in fact, a thinly veiled reference to the Amanita muscaria mushroom itself.

FIGURE 39. Āryadeva stands on one leg before a pine tree (an Amanita muscaria host species). Note also the parasol hovering overhead. Mongolian print. [Chandra]

Buddhist theoretical texts (Skt. abhidharma) classify beings according to their mode of birth: egg-born, womb-born, etc. The final category is miraculously-born. As mushrooms have no perceptible seed, ancient cultures often attributed their sudden appearance to lightning-bolts or to the sound of thunder. Lotus flowers lift themselves above the muddy water before opening. When open, the circular flower on a long gracile stem could easily function as a symbolic substitute for a mushroom, especially as it is a plant that, like mushrooms, grows in wet, muddy places.

It is no great stretch of the imagination to see a wheat cake, perhaps studded with sugar, balanced on a pin as the A. muscaria mushroom. The shiny red cap of a fresh fly agaric, adorned with its glistening white spots, would not look all that incongruous on a restaurant’s dessert cart. The “pin,” of course, is the mushroom’s stem. Instantly recognizing the psychoactive mushroom, the guru “eats it hungrily.”

The relevance of the tree goddess is that A. muscaria cannot grow except in a mycorrhizal relationship with the roots of a tree. Wasson cites several examples of female tree spirits in legends about the A. muscaria mushroom. When we are told that the goddess reveals only her arm, we must assume this means that Nāgārjuna found only an immature specimen, just thrusting up through the soil.

The “alchemical medicine” and “elixir” is, of course, amṛita. Also, “secret assembly” is the name of a seminal Vajrayāna scripture, the Guhyasāmaja-tantra. Could it be that Nāgārjuna made his “elixir of immortality” simply by eating A. muscaria mushrooms and urinating into a bucket? Was this the alchemical process for which he was renowned? If so, Āryadeva soon catches on as he replaces the elixir by urinating into a pot of water himself. The potency and rejuvenating power of this amṛita is demonstrated by causing dead trees to sprout leaves. Though the tale is brief, it takes pains to inform us that Karṇaripa/Āryadeva urinated into a pot which was already full. Hajicek-Dobberstein points out that this is an allusion to the “brimming vessel” (Skt. pūrṇa ghaṭa), a standard trope for “abundance, plenty” in Indian art. We might also recognize the amṛita-vessel which forms part of the ritual bell-handle and which overflows in the four cardinal directions (plate 13).

As we may see from the story of Āryadeva, the matter of amṛita and its identity is treated in a veiled and secretive manner. Fortunately, there are enough nudges and winks in this case that some clues may be teased out of the narrative. Only now, with our modern understanding of mycology and pharmacology, are we able to deduce that Nāgārjuna’s amṛita was the A. muscaria mushroom. Of course, this does not necessarily apply to all potions known as amṛita. There were several other sacraments, as we will see in later chapters.

ONE-EYED ADEPTS

But why is Nāgārjuna so eager to make and consume amṛita? Is it simply to add centuries to his life? This would certainly be an understandable motive but that would be to ignore the role played by the potion in other contexts. In the texts of the early Vedic period, the soma potion is often referred to by a poetic synonym: amṛita or “deathlessness.” The name soma rarely occurs in Buddhist texts but references to amṛita are frequently found in Vajrayāna Buddhism. This tradition once flourished in India but today survives only in the Himalayas, Mongolia and, to a lesser extent, Japan.

Sometime during the seventh century CE, strange new religious practices began to appear on the Indian scene. Early adherents met in cemetery grounds at night, amid the glowing embers of funeral pyres. Their gruesome rites were rumored to include cannibalism and orgiastic, even incestuous, sex. Indeed, many such transgressive acts are prescribed by their scriptures, known as tantra. By the seventh century CE, all the major religions, Buddhist, Hindu and Jain, had incorporated tantras and their commentaries into their canons of holy books. One enduring legacy of the tantric movement is the concept of the spiritual preceptor (Skt. guru; literally, “heavyweight”). Usually, the teachings are passed from the guru to a student in a deity initiation that also authorizes the student to perform a meditative ritual called a sādhana. In this kind of meditation, the deity is visualized and her/his mantra is recited. If, by repeated practice of the sādhana, the student attains the blissful state of nondual awareness indicated by the teachings, then he (or she) becomes a guru to the next generation of students.

As to its origin, opinions differ as to whether the tantric movement was an indigenous Indian development or whether it was introduced by one of the successive waves of Central Asian invaders who occupied India immediately prior to this period. Enroute to India, these Saka,t as they were known, overthrew the Buddhist kingdom of Gandhara. This may have caused yogins and gurus from that entire area to flee to India. If so, it could account for the Vajrayāna tradition which places the origin of tantra in the Swat Valley, now in Afghanistan.

The earliest stories of tantric Buddhists are about wild, iconoclastic, but nonetheless enlightened, gurus known as siddhas (“adepts”). However, it should be noted that several of the founding siddhas, including Nāgārjuna, are also revered in India as founders (Skt. ādi-natha, literally “original lord”) of Hindu tantric lineages. Also, there is a good deal of confusion regarding people with names meaning “One-eye.” One of these is a one-eyed Śaiva saint called Kannapa and another is the Buddhist siddha called Kāṇḥapa. All of these are said to have voluntarily relinquished an eye in exchange for wisdom and received a name meaning “One-eye” as a result. This is oddly reminiscent of a Norse myth concerning the god Odin who gave up an eye in exchange for wisdom.

Hajicek-Dobberstein sees this myth as evidence of the Nordic use of Amanita muscaria.¹⁵⁸ On the other hand, it also lends itself to a purely spiritual interpretation. English mystic Douglas Harding saw Odin’s act as exchanging “two eyes” for “one vision,” i.e., transcending dualistic consciousness with unitary awareness.¹⁵⁹ I am sure that the same argument could be made for Kāṇḥapa and Karṇaripa, but one-eyedness does not seem a very Buddhist simile. “Oneness” (Skt. ekatā) is very much a Hindu concept. The Buddhist equivalent translates to something more like “noneness” (Skt. śunyatā). Slippery Buddhist philosophers prefer to use terms like “nonduality” rather than “unity.” But the names Kāṇḥapa and Karṇaripa may both, in fact, refer to the same person (whether or not this is the Śaiva saint), Kannapa. One hint that Kāṇḥapa and Karṇaripa is the same person is that they have consecutive biographies in the Lives of the Eighty-four Siddhas, immediately after Nāgārjuna.¹⁶⁰ Or perhaps they are all fictitious and entirely symbolic.

Buddhist biographies of Kāṇḥapa put him in the lineage of Nāgārjuna but give his guru as Jalandharipa (aka Haḍipa).¹⁶¹ Yet another biography gives his guru as Gorakṣa,¹⁶² ninth siddha and successor to the siddha Mīnapa. This confusion over lineage is most instructive as the siddhas Gorakṣa and Mīnapa are plainly Buddhist names for Gorakhnāth and Matsyendranātha,u not Buddhists at all but seminal figures in the Nātha lineage of Hindu tantra.¹⁶³ If the variant accounts of Kāṇḥapa and Karṇaripa refer to the same person, then these versions of his biography imply that the actual person behind these tales was a holder of both Hindu and Buddhist lineages – a pivotal figure in the transfer of the Śaiva secrets of amṛita into Buddhism.

Both Buddhists and Nātha Siddhas were reviled by orthodox Hindus for being “atheists” as neither forms of practice (meditation and haṭha yoga, respectively) required devotion to a god.¹⁶⁴ As the traditions of the Nātha Siddhas hearkened back to the Śaiva traditions of Pāśupata and Kāpālika,¹⁶⁵ we can assume that they partook of the mushroom sacrament of their Śaiva forebears.

There are many legends and folktales concerning Gorakhnāth, some even claim him as cocreator of the world with Viṣṇu. He was a celebrated medieval yogi and ādi-guru (“founding teacher”) of the Nāthas, an important lineage of Hindu tantrism. According to the traditions of this lineage, Gorakhnāth was born from a dung heap.¹⁶⁶ His name is most likely an abbreviation of Go-rakhṣa-nātha (“cow-protecting lord”) but has also been construed as Gor-nātha (“dung lord”),¹⁶⁷ presumably a reference to the dung upon which Psilocybe cubensis mushrooms grow.

In some versions, ashes from Śiva’s own dhuniv were thrown on a dung heap that later produced a little boy. This could be a veiled reference to Ps. cubensis mushroom, which grows upon cow manure. But if so, we must presume the so-called “ashes” to be, in fact, mushroom spores. However, the spores of Psilocybe species are very dark blue or purple, often almost black. It is the spores of Amanita species which are ash-white. Presumably, the practice of calling mushroom spores bhasma (“ashes”) originated in the Vedic period when Rudra was Amanita muscaria deified. Later, when Rudra was assimilated to the indigenous Psilocybe cubensis deity Śiva, the word was retained, despite the inaccuracy of the metaphor (see Plate 14).

Matsyendranātha (“Fish Indra Lord”) is also considered to be a foundational teacher of the Nātha lineage. One of their legends tells how he was swallowed by a giant fish and attained enlightenment by overhearing the Hindu god Śiva instructing his wife (here called Uma) on the nondual nature of reality. Buddhist versions of Lives of the Eighty-four Siddhas have exactly the same story.¹⁶⁸ The biography of Mīnapa (“Fish Man”) is identical in every respect, even preserving the reference to Śiva and Uma. Quite clearly, the siddha tradition of Vajrayāna Buddhism owes much to the Śaiva lineages of Hindu tantra, especially those of the Nātha. The same blurring of religious boundaries is also evident in many Vajrayāna rituals. For instance, by the early eighth century CE, India’s monastic university at Nālanda, a prestigious Buddhist institution, was teaching monks how to perform the Vedic homa (“fire-offering”) ceremony. This non-Brahminic survival of the Vedic soma rite was assimilated into the Vajrayāna from a Hindu lineage of Śaiva tantra. Although homa began as the ancient Hindu fire ritual celebrated in the Ṛig Veda, Vajrayāna Buddhism carried it as far as Japan (where it is called goma).

Flick a drop of water on to the fire and recite three times “Om Amirite Hum! Phat!” Pick up three sticks, dipping them one by one, into the soma (honey and oil, mixed), and toss them into the fire. Recite each time “Om Agni Svaha!”

From a Japanese [Tendai] goma.¹⁶⁹

As we may see from the above passage, by the time it reached Japan, a good deal of the fire had gone out of the fire ceremony: the word amṛita (qua “amirite”) is used in connection with water, and soma means a mixture of oil and honey. What happened to the drugs? We may assume that as the wild, transgressive tantric rites of the original siddhas became assimilated into the staid, conservative curricula of monastic Buddhism, the original amṛita was replaced by symbolic substitutes. Monks and nuns take a vow not to partake of “intoxicants that cloud the mind” and these entheogenic sacraments could be seen as doing just that (although many would claim the opposite). At the very least, monastic discipline could become problematic with groups of tripping monks or nuns roaming the cloisters. Moreover, many consider the psychedelic experience to be inherently anti-authoritarian – not a trait conducive to the smooth running of monasteries. Accordingly, the monastic commentators explained away the raunchier aspects of the tantras as being merely “symbolic” and the monks began to substitute innocuous liquids (e.g. oil and honey) for the elixir. Although these commentators did a great job of sanitizing the tantras, few could agree on what the “symbolism” meant.¹⁷⁰

Yet even without real amṛita, the homa ceremony continues to play a central role within Vajrayāna Buddhism. To this day, it is the rite used to bestow the rank of lama upon a practitioner: the new lama performs the homa ceremony while their former teacher acts as their attendant.w Having performed this Buddhist adaptation of a Śaivite copy of the Vedic soma ritual, they are then formally entitled to perform the functions of a guru and instruct students of their own.

______________

a The extreme beliefs to be avoided are materialism (believing that objects have a real, persisting, and independent existence) and nihilism (believing that objects have no substance at all).

b The meditation deity to which the initiate is introduced.

c Many accounts of psychedelic experiences are posted online. An especially large repository of such “trip reports” may be found at www.erowid.org.

d The system of philosophy and meditative techniques, called dzogchen or “Great Completion” (Skt. mahā ati), is the most profound teaching of the Nyingma lineage and is also found in the Bön (pre-Buddhist) tradition of Tibet.

e The passage describes an experience of being “outside of time,” a state which is familiar to anyone who has taken a significant dose of a psychedelic.

f Brahmin priests begin most ceremonies by taking a sip of water.

g The Aitareya Brāhmaṇa implies that soma was brought from indigenous tribes to the east (AB I, III i.12) and/or north-east (AB I, III, i.14) of the Doab (Āryan territory).

h Brahmin priests begin most ceremonies by taking a sip of water.

* Vetalas conveniently have their tongues hanging out.

i I specify solanaceous plants rather than simply tropanes because cocaine, also a tropane alkaloid, has very different effects from the solanaceous tropanes.

j Emphasis added.

k The actual Sanskrit word for “pill” is guṭika, hence this siddhi is sometimes called guṭika-siddhi.

l Five of these (human, elephant, horse, cow and dog) are the “five meats” consumed along with the five amṛitas in the gaṇacakra ceremony.

m Skt. sandhyabhaṣa, tantric code.

n This khecari-siddhi may not be quite the same as “the power of flight” (khecara-siddhi) mentioned earlier. Khecari-mudrā is a yogic practice in which the tongue is curled back into the buccal cavity. Tantric yoga teaches that the human body has an untapped repository of “amṛita” at the top of the skull. The goal of kecari-mudrā is to cause this internal “amṛita” to flow, bringing bliss and enlightenment.

o Vyali is also known as Byali, Byari, Byalipa and Vyadi.

p Metallic mercury and its salts are an important part of alchemy, whether European, Indian or Chinese.

q The fourteenth century Tibetan scholar Butön describes him as emerging from a lotus blossom, like Padmasambhava.

r This is the first time he is called Karṇaripa

s The text reads “a woman from among those mentioned before” but there are no people “mentioned before.” This suggests a lacuna in the text.

t They are also known as Sarmatians, Scythians or Sogdians.

u Also known as Macchendranāth, maccha being the Prakrit equivalent of the Sanskrit matsya, “fish.” Note also that mīn (as in Mīnapa) means “fish” in Tamil and several other Dravidian languages. He is also recognized as a saint by some Indian Muslims who know him as Morchā Pir.

v Dhuni – a small ritual fire (or, in some accounts, a pile of ashes) maintained by śaiva sannyasi.

w Lama is the Tibetan translation of guru.

PEACOCKS

THE TANTRIC FEAST

AT A TYPICAL VAJRAYĀNA INITIATION, the practitioner is given an “elixir of immortality” (Skt. amṛita) to drink and the guru recites meditation instructions – the details for visualizing a deity and a mantra. In fact, one medieval writer opined that the three essential elements of an initiation are these three: the amṛita, the visualization and the mantra. The practitioner is thereafter expected to practice the deity-meditation (with mantra-recitation) every day and is also entitled to attend the monthly tantric feast (Skt. gaṇacakra) dedicated to that deity.

The flask which is used to distribute the amṛita at such initiations and gaṇacakras invariably has a spray of peacock feathers adorning the neck (Figure 40, Plate 11). This spray is not merely for decoration; its base (which sits immersed in the amṛita) is used to asperse the assembled celebrants with amṛita. A small bundle of twigs may be substituted if peacock feathers are not available. But, clearly, the fact that this work-around is even mentioned implies that peacock feathers should be used if at all possible. Why is this? What on earth could connect amṛita and peacock feathers? The answer, once again, is to be found in a psychedelic mushroom.

FIGURE 40. Ritual amṛita flask with traditional spray of peacock feathers. Mongolian print. [Crowley]

It is often said that the original gaṇacakras were held at night in cemeteries and cremation grounds. The celebrants feasted on five meats: cow, horse, dog, elephant and, what is referred to as “the great meat” (Skt. mahāmamsa), a euphemism for “human flesh.” To wash down the five meats, they quaffed “the fivefold elixir” (Skt. pañcamṛita)a – a concoction of (human) urine, pus, brains, blood and semen. We shall see that none of these supposed “meats” or their corresponding amṛitas should be taken literally. It should be noted that the list of five meats is usually the five given here; though occasionally, “cow” is replaced by “peacock.”¹⁷¹

Now, this is rather curious. Presumably, then, a cow and a peacock are in some way equivalent... but how? If we assume that gaṇacakra rituals (like most tantric rites) use secret, cryptic, terminology then could “cow” and “peacock” be two different code words for the very same item? I intend to demonstrate that, in fact, both terms refer to the psychedelic mushroom Psilocybe cubensis. The reason that this mushroom species would be called “cow” is obvious: it grows on cow dung, but where do peacocks fit into this puzzle?

We saw earlier in the discussion of Śiva’s by-name Nīlakāṇṭha, that it can just as easily mean “blue stem” as “blue throat” and that Psilocybe cubensis, a psychedelic mushroom, is characterized by a blue coloration. It so happens that in Sanskrit literature, the peacock is frequently called “blue throat” (Skt. Nīlakāṇṭha), for obvious reasons. Thus, the logical chain which equates beef with mushroom and mushroom with peacock flesh takes some working through but is not really complicated or far-fetched.

PEACOCKS AND POISONS

In India, there is a widespread folk belief that the peacock lives on a diet of poisonous snakes. Tibet, which has inherited this peacock-poison complex, has no snakes. Accordingly, it is said that the peacock eats the deadly berries of black aconite. Its motivation for this is entirely altruistic as the peacock follows his deadly diet purely to save other animals from being poisoned. Because of this folk belief, Mahayana Buddhism took the peacock as a symbol of the bodhisattva ideal.¹⁷² For all its value as a metaphor, this Tibetan belief is quite impossible. Peacocks live in sub-tropical India but not in the high, frigid plateau of Tibet; conversely, aconite grows in temperate climes but not in the steamy subcontinent.

It comes as no surprise, therefore, to learn that peacock meat is itself considered to be poisonous. After all those poisonous snakes and berries, surely the peacock’s flesh would be saturated with toxins. But that is not, in fact, the stated reason for the peacock’s toxicity. Rather, it is said to be because the peacock was present at the Churning of the Ocean and when the kalakhuta/hālāhala poison emerged from the waves it was the peacock that bravely drank it and saved the world from certain death. But as a result, his throat turned blue, which is why poets call the peacock “blue throat” (Skt. nīlakāṇṭha).

FIGURE 41. Kārttikeya, the Hindu war god, in Buddhist guise. Japanese drawing. [Chandra]

At this point, you may be forgiven for being a trifle confused. When we looked at a few variants of the Churning of the Ocean myth, there was no mention of a peacock. Furthermore, it was always Śiva who drank the kalakhuta poison. It was he whose throat turned blue and who thus received the name Nīlakāṇṭha. Not a single peacock was mentioned. In that discussion, however, we considered only scriptural sources. A radically different variant of the legend exists in the form of folktales that replace Śiva with a peacock. No doubt this is because the peacock, for obvious reasons, is traditionally called “blue throat,” just like Śiva, but even in the more orthodox versions of the myth, the color of Śiva’s throat is often compared to that of the peacock.

This equivalence of peacock and psychoactive mushroom (qua Śiva) might go some way towards explaining why a medieval Hindu monastic order devoted to the god Śiva called itself the “intoxicated peacocks” (Skt. matta-mayūri).¹⁷³ While matta is sometimes translated as “drunken,” it has a range of meanings covering any temporary mental derangement, including the sexual frenzy of a bull elephant in heat. It does not necessarily imply intoxication with alcohol.

THE WAR GOD AND THE GREAT PEAHEN

Peafowl are occasionally credited with the ability, not merely to consume toxins, but to transmute them into the elixir of immortality. This also is said of the Hindu war god Skanda, a son of Śiva who rides a peacock and “changes poison into ambrosia [i.e. amṛita].”¹⁷⁴ The Buddhist ideal of transcendent wisdom is personified by a bodhisattva called Mañjuśrī. Most often he is seen riding a lion, but there are Chinese variants which show a peacock as his mount. This has caused confusion between images of Mañjuśrī and Skanda, a Hindu god and one of Śiva’s sons.¹⁷⁵ In addition to riding the (blue) peacock, Skanda also carries a flag emblazoned with the image of a (red) rooster. This combination of blue and red suggests the two kinds of psychoactive mushroom we have been considering: the blue-staining psilocybian species and the brilliant red fly agaric. It may also explain why he is also “the form of Rudra called Blue-and-Red (Nīlalohitā).”¹⁷⁶ This god is known by several names, including Kārttikeya, Kumara, Subramanya, Rudrasūnu and Murugan. The name Subramanya (“beloved of Brahmins”) could well apply to the source of soma, the drug that was forbidden to all but Brahmin priests. Apart from these names, Skanda has many secondary titles including Śarabhū (“born in a thicket”), Guha (“secret one”) and Siddhasena (“captain of the adepts”), all of which are fitting names for an entheogenic mushroom. Skanda, his principal name, means “spurt of semen,” referring to his motherless origin in Śiva’s ejaculation. Those who are unaware of mushrooms’ propagation by means of spores assume that they too are “motherless.”

FIGURE 42. A curiously cross-eyed, Eight-armed Mahāmayūrī (“Great Peahen”) holds various symbols. From top: right hands, peacock feathers, arrow, sword, gesture of generosity; left hands, skullcup containing a Buddha, bow, victory banner, and a vase of amṛita. Mongolian print. [Chandra]

A certain Buddhist goddess called Mahāmayūrī (“the great peahen”) acquired this name because, just like Skanda, “she swallows poison and transforms it into amṛita.”¹⁷⁷ Once an important deity in her own right, Mahāmayūrī is now mostly remembered as one of the Twenty-one Tārās. Another of this group, Jangulī Tārā, rides a peacock and is said to prevent (or cure) snake bite. As with many forms of Tārā, she carries a lotus blossom in each hand.

AMITĀBHA AND AMITĀYUS

The Buddha who rules the “Lotus family” of deities is called Amitābha. This name is usually taken to be Sanskrit for “immeasurable radiance,” but it is quite possible that the name is not Sanskrit at all, but a later, vernacular tongue called Prakrit. In that language, amita equates to the Sanskrit amṛita. Therefore, if Amitābha were a Prakrit name, it would translate as “radiance of amṛita.” Whether or not this is the case, Amitābha has many overt (though generally unacknowledged) connections with amṛita. In Japanese Buddhism, for instance, he has the “esoteric name” of Amṛita and a list of twelve of his attributes is known as the “mantra of the twelve amṛitas.”¹⁷⁸ Of course, a list is not actually a mantra. The usual mantra for Amitābha has just five syllables: oṃ ami deva hrih but he does have a longer mantra in which the word amṛita is prominently featured. It is known as “the ten-amṛita mantra of Amitābha”:

oṃ amṛite amṛit-odbhave amṛita-sambhave amṛita-garbhe amṛita-siddhe amṛita-teje amṛita-vikrānte amṛita-vikrānta-gāmini amṛita-gagana-kīrtikare amṛita-dundubhi-svare sarvārtha-sādhani sarva-karma-kleśa-kṣay-aṅkare svāhā

Surely, any deity who is called Amṛita and has the word amṛita repeated ten times in his mantra must have more than a little to do with this sacramental elixir.

Each of the five “Buddha families” (Skt. kula) is presided over by a kuleśa (literally “clan lord”).b Each kuleśa has a unique set of attributes, including a hand gesture, color, direction, mantric syllable, emotion, and “wisdom.” Of particular interest to us is the throne and its supporters Amitābha is the kuleśa of the lotus family, his color is red and his throne is supported by peacocks.

The most devoted worshipers of Amitābha are those of the “Pure Land” sects of Mahāyāna Buddhism. These sects share the belief that by devotion to Amitābha and by reciting his name, one may be reborn in his paradise. This is so unlike the mainstream of Buddhist thought that some authors have suggested that it may even be a distant echo of the Christian heaven, acquired through contact with Nestorian Christians in central Asia. Non-Buddhist influences are certainly evident in these traditions. For example, Amitābha’s “pure land” is called “The Abode of Pleasure” (Skt. sukhavati), the same name as one of the Zoroastrian heavens, suggesting an Iranian influence, at least.¹⁷⁹

FIGURE 43. Amitābha rides a peacock. Nepali drawing. [Chandra]

Amitābha has an aspect in which he embodies the concept of longevity. In this aspect, he is known as Amitāyus, Sanskrit for “immeasurable life.” This is not very different semantically from “no death,” the literal meaning of amṛita. Earlier, we briefly considered the deity Yamāntaka. He too has a name that is a paraphrase of amṛita. Yama is the King of Hell and embodiment of “death” in both Buddhism and Hinduism. As antaka means “ender,” Yamāntaka may be parsed either as “Yama, the ender [of life]” or as “He Who Ends Death.” The latter interpretation is borne out by one of his alternative names: Yamāri (“Enemy of Death”). Admittedly, neither “death-ender” nor “death’s enemy” is precisely synonymous with amṛita (“no death”) but they are certainly in the same spirit.

In Chinese and Japanese Buddhism, Amitāyus is simply an aspect of Amitābha, but Tibetan Buddhism makes a clear distinction between them, holding Amitāyus to be a separate entity. Even so, both deities have very similar attributes, both make the “meditation” hand gesture, and both sit upon a peacock throne. However, Amitābha is dressed as a monk and holds a begging bowl filled with amṛita,¹⁸⁰ whereas Amitāyus is adorned with the “sambhogakaya ornaments” and holds a flask of amṛita.

FIGURE 44. Amitāyus (a form of Amitābha) holds a vase of amṛita from which grows the wish-granting tree. Tibetan print. [Chandra]

Growing out of Amitāyus’ amṛita flask is Parijata, the legendary wish-granting tree which emerged, along with amṛita, at the churning of the ocean. That a tree should be associated with amṛita suggests a connection with the psychoactive fly agaric (Amanita muscaria) a mycorrhizal mushroom. That is, a symbiotic relationship with the roots of a host tree is essential for its existence. It may be no coincidence that both Amitābha and Amitāyus are bright red, the color of fly agaric.

THE SIDDHA ŚAVARĪPĀDA

The name of this siddha implies that he was a member of the Śavari (or Śabari), a non-Āryan, indigenous tribe. Legend has it that he was a hunter who lived in the hills of Vikrama:

Śavarīpa was cruel and he slew untold numbers of antelope. In order to save the remaining antelopes, Avalokiteśvara disguised himself as a hunter and appeared before him. Boastful Śavarīpa challenged, “How many antelopes can you slay with one shot?”

“Five hundred usually,” was Avalokiteśvara’s reply. Śavarīpa did not believe him. “Prove it,” he said. Avalokiteśvara magically created a large number of antelopes and made them all graze in the glade. When he was about to shoot Śavarīpa said sarcastically, “Just a hundred will do.”

With just one arrow, Avalokiteśvara killed every one of the antelopes.¹⁸¹

This is a rare case of a Buddhist deity making use of their handheld attributes (Skt. mudra). In this case, Avalokiteśvara uses his (i.e. Rudra’s) bow and arrow to kill antelopes which, after all, were Rudra’s original target. Needless to say, Avalokiteśvara converted Śavarīpa who immediately gave up eating meat and eventually became enlightened.

For reasons left unexplained (although attentive readers may be able to connect the dots), Śavarīpa is known as “The Wearer of the Peacock Feather” and is often depicted wearing a peacock-feather skirt (Plate 8).

We can but wonder whether all those “antelopes” might not really have been mushrooms. One possible connection might be that the spotted coat of young fawns is reminiscent of the spotted cap of Amanita muscaria. In a curious parallel, the Huichol people of Mexico consider a spotted fawn to symbolize “the spirit” of the psychedelic cactus peyote. Considering that the ancestors of all Native Americans migrated from Siberia, where A. muscaria is the drug of choice, this folkway may reflect a transference of an ancient mushroom tradition to a cactus. Because of its psychedelic effects, the cactus may be seen to possess “the spirit” of the ancestral sacrament.

THE WISH-GRANTING COW

Mention of Amitāyus’ wish-granting tree raises the subject of the other products of the churned ocean. So far, in our consideration of the Churning of the Ocean, we have concentrated mainly on amṛita, but most redactions of this myth name a total of fourteen “treasures” that emerged from the ocean. The greatest of these was amṛita, but another was Parijata, the wish-granting tree, and yet another was Kamadhenu (literally, “desire-milk”), the wish-granting cow (Figure 45, Plate 5).c As cows go, Kamadhenu is more than a little odd. For a start, she has a woman’s face but cow’s horns and is frequently depicted with human breasts in addition to her cow’s udder which, unique in the annals of dairy herds, gives amṛita instead of milk. This may be a deliberate attempt to obscure the true nature of amṛita or it may be simply a euphemism. Thus, amṛita does not come from a cow’s udder; it grows from its excrement—which may explain why Hindus always worship cows from the rear.¹⁸²

Should one object that Kamadhenu is simply an expression of the celebrated Hindu reverence for cows or of religious reverence for a purely mythological sacrament called amṛita, there is one further detail that makes sense only in terms of the equation Ps. cubensis mushroom = amṛita = peacock, as proposed in this chapter. That detail is that Kamadhenu has a peacock’s tail.

FIGURE 45. Kamadhenu, the wish-granting cow, has a human head, wings, and a peacock’s tail. Detail of a 19th century painting. [Public domain]

Furthermore, some accounts state that she is the mother of the eleven Rudras, deities whom we have already suspected of being apotheoses of psychedelic mushrooms. Further validation of the “peacock = soma/amṛita” equation may be found by examining other instances of peacocks in the iconography of Indian deities. Consider, for instance, the Vedic sky god Indra. Buddhist texts describe a variant of Indra who holds a golden vajra in his right hand and a peacock’s head in his left.¹⁸³ This latter attribute may have remained an incongruous and inexplicable curiosity but, upon decoding the peacock’s head as meaning a cap of the Ps. cubensis mushroom, this pair of symbols is revealed as a reference to Indra as the thunderbolt hurling “lord of soma” (Skt. somapati), as well as lending weight to the argument that Ps. cubensis was one of the sources of soma.

It is now clear why the tantric feasts of the ancient siddhas allowed “peacock meat” as an acceptable substitute for “beef.” They both tasted exactly like psychedelic mushrooms.

______________

a In the modern Indian vernacular, pañcamṛita is pronounced punch-amṛit. Incredible as it may seem, this is the origin of the English word punch, meaning a mixed drink. In the nineteenth century, it meant a concoction of five different varieties of alcohol.

b The kuleśa are often known, erroneously, as “dhyani Buddhas,” a term found only in western commentaries. It arose out of confusion between dhyani and jina (“conqueror”).

c She is also known as Surabhi (“fragrant” or “excellent”).

PARASOL DEITIES

The parasol must be blue, its cover white.

Fragment of a Tibetan text.¹⁸⁴

LADY “CROWN BUMP WHITE PARASOL”

When we consider the symbolism of parasols and umbrellas as a motif in Buddhist art, we must distinguish between two quite distinct functions. The most commonly encountered parasol is that over the head of a Buddha or Bodhisattva in statues, murals and illuminated manuscripts. This kind of parasol is not unique to Buddhist art; it is the parasol which always accompanies an Indian king, as much a symbol of status and royalty as it is a sunshade. But the kind of umbrella that concerns us here is of a different kind: it is that which is held by a deity and serves as their defining attribute. One such deity is Uṣṇīṣasitātapatrā. This goddess was once so popular that copies of her spell (Skt. dhāraṇī) have been found in Sanskrit, Newar, Tibetan, Tocharian, Khotanese and Chinese.¹⁸⁵ Obviously, an odd name like “Crown Bump White Parasol Lady” is not readily understood; it requires further explanation or, in modern parlance, a “back-story.”

According to the Sitātapatrā Sūtra (a Mahāyāna text), the devas realized that the asuras were planning to invade heaven so they appealed to the Buddha to help. He did so by emanating Sitātapatrā from his crown bump (uṣṇīṣa). She then proceeded to annihilate the asura army with one sweep of her parasol.¹⁸⁶ This legend is neither an adequate explanation of the origin of this goddess nor, most crucially, of why she had to use a parasol—a very odd choice of symbol. Surely a broom would be a more obvious tool for “sweeping away” an army. But let us look more closely at her name.

Clearly, the uṣṇīṣa is a Buddha’s crown bump but what of the remainder of her name? Sita means “white, bright, or pale,”a atapatra is normally translated as “parasol” or “umbrella” and the long final vowel tells us that the name is feminine. However, there is an alternative meaning of atapatra and when this is taken into consideration, a more cogent meaning emerges. Understood in this light, the name Uṣṇīṣasitātapatrā is the key to a cabinet of secrets.

FIGURE 46. Uṣṇīṣasitātapatrā has a thousand heads, a thousand hands, a billion eyes, and a white parasol. Tibetan print. [Chandra]

WHEN ALL MUSHROOMS WERE ILLEGAL

An old saying maintains that “the Greeks had a word for it,” meaning that, no matter how abstruse and recondite a concept, it could be expressed succinctly in Greek. Even more so than Greek, Sanskrit is supremely expressive and has a huge vocabulary. Nevertheless, Sanskrit, the sacred language of the Vedas, is surprisingly deficient in fungus words. There is simply no way to say “mushroom” unambiguously. This lexical lacuna, along with cultural taboos against fungi, suggests that those who compiled the language were concealing a secret.b

While Sanskrit had no direct way of saying “mushroom,” there were ways in which one might indirectly allude to them. Thus, one said either chattra or atapatra, the primary meaning of both words being “parasol” or “umbrella.” There were, admittedly, awkward literary circumlocutions such as śilīndhraka (“maggoty thing”) and ucchilīndhra (“sprouting maggoty thing”) but, in normal everyday speech, if one wished to refer to a mushroom one said either chattra (“parasol,” “umbrella”) or atapatra (“royal parasol”). There were a few variations on these terms such as chattraka (“parasol-thing”), which also happens to be the name of a kind of mushroom-shaped Śiva temple found in southern India.¹⁸⁷

FIGURE 47. The Buddha depicted as an empty seat, three parasols and a pair of sandals. Carving at Sañchi, India. [Wiki]

According to the Vedic period Laws of Manu, merely touching a mushroom is tantamount to injuring a Brahmin priest. An ancient commentary on this text tells us that:

Those who eat mushrooms… are fully equal in guilt to the slayers of Brahmens [sic], and the most despicable of all deadly sinners.

Quoted in the Works of Sir William Jones¹⁸⁸

In both the Laws of Manu and its commentary, those who transgress in regard to mushrooms are compared to those who kill or injure Brahmin priests. Perhaps then, this overly severe edict and the linguistic omission indicate a taboo, which had its origin in a monopoly of mushrooms by the priestly caste.

It is perhaps significant that only the “untouchable” castes of Hindu society were allowed to gather and eat mushrooms. Could this be why the lowest castes feature so prominently in tantric literature? Were they the mushroom dealers, the despised “soma-sellers” spoken of in the commentaries to the Vedas? But why would the Brahmins impose a total ban, regardless of species? My guess is that they considered only certain species special, but that a blanket, all-mushroom taboo arose from a “better safe than sorry” attitude. And also, to indicate exactly which species were forbidden might invite unauthorized experimentation.

Of all the myriad species of mushroom, which would the Brahmins have considered special, sacred even? One clue may come from the word śilīndhraka mentioned above. Monier-Williams’ Sanskrit-English Dictionary explains that it means “a mushroom (especially one growing on cow-dung).” Now, I’m not sure how many other species of mushroom grow on cow dung in India but Psilocybe cubensis certainly fits that description and there is an excellent reason why the Brahmins might have considered it sacred—it contains the classically psychedelic compounds psilocin and psilocybin.

PRINCE GREAT-HERB

Armed with this alternative meaning of atapatra, stories about parasols take on new significance. For example, the Mahāunmagga Jātaka tells the tale of a goddess who “dwelt in the royal parasol.. One day she emerges to ask the king four riddles, threatening to decapitate him with her “fiery blade” should he fail. The king consults his wise men to no avail. The parasol goddess then chides the king for not asking his son, Prince Great-Herb (Skt. mahoṣadha). She disparages the wise men as being mere fireflies compared to the “great flaming fire… blazing with wisdom,” which was Great-Herb. As expected, Great-Herb proceeds to answer her riddles correctly. After his first answer, her upper torso emerges from the parasol—and at each successive answer, the goddess reveals more of herself. Finally, she steps out of the parasol and rewards Great-Herb with “coral and ivory.”¹⁸⁹

This tale has several telling images. First, there is the parasol goddess herself who emerges in gradual stages, rather like a sprouting mushroom. Then there is the prince, Great- Herb. Like the bright red cap of the fly agaric mushroom, he is a blazing fire who receives the appropriately-colored gifts of coral (red) and ivory (white).

FIGURE 48. Nāga-king Apalala holds a golden pot of amṛita. Tibetan print. [Chandra]

THE GIFT OF THE NĀGA-KING

There is a legend that the king of the chthonic serpent spirits (Skt. nāgarāja) presented the Buddha with a jewel-encrusted umbrella…

It is gold with a sapphire handle and its edges are studded with jewels, including diamonds which shine like the sun. The jewels give off a nectar which can quench the thirst of all sentient beings…¹⁹⁰

This “nectar” is neither bee food nor a thick, pulpy fruit juice. It is, of course, amṛita. And despite the claims about the “thirst of all sentient beings,” we should not think that it is merely something needed on a hot day. “Thirst” (Skt. tṛiṣṇa), is Buddhist technical jargon; it is shorthand for that craving for one’s circumstances to be otherwise that lies at the root of all suffering. To truly satisfy this “thirst” is to achieve nirvana.

Intriguingly, this blue-handled gift of the nāga king is adorned with jewels that drip a psychoactive liquid. This sounds contrary to the purpose of an umbrella, so why has nobody commented on this incongruous oddity? The answer lies largely in the fact that, prior to the Wassons’ discoveries in Oaxaca in the late 1950s, the existence of blue-stemmed psychedelic mushrooms remained utterly unsuspected. Although several species of psilocybian mushrooms have been found in India, the interest shown by scholars of religion has so far been negligible.

It now is apparent that the passage should be understood thus:

parasol | = | A mushroom
golden | = | with a gold-colored cap,
sapphire handle | = | a blue-staining stem,
jewels | = | and remnants of a cortinate veil
on rim | = | attached to outer edge of cap
radiating | = | is a source of
amṛita | = | the psychedelic sacrament.

This narrows the field tremendously as, within the geographical area of India where the tantric cults flourished, there are few species of psychoactive mushrooms that stain blue, most notably Psilocybe cubensis and Panaeolus cambodginiensis, both of which grow on bovine dung. It is remarkable that much of this evidence has been available for so many years, but until we became familiar with the properties of the Psilocybe genus, it simply made no sense.

FIGURE 49. Psilocybe argentipes showing papillae. [Wiki]

In the context of mushrooms, “crown bump” is an apt description of the bump found on the cap of some mushroom species. Mycologists call this bump an “umbo” (Latin for the raised boss in the center of a shield). An umbo is a defining characteristic of the Psilocybe genus. That is, every Psilocybe species has an umbo, whether sharply pointed or gently rounded. The sharply pointed type of umbo is also known as a “papilla,” Latin for “nipple.” This may account for an iconographic oddity…

The Vajrayāna Buddhist deity named Hayagrīva has seventy-three recorded variants.¹⁹¹ In three of these versions, he is visualized as being in sexual union with his consort whose right breast he caresses with one of his left hands. This in itself may not surprise the reader as they are depicted as engaged in the act of sex. However, out of many hundreds of copulating deities in Vajrayāna Buddhism, only Hayagrīva caresses his consort’s breast.c Moreover, there are two variants in which, having no partner, he holds his own breast. This seems to indicate that it is not the breast, per se, which is the object of interest but the nipple. After all, a male deity lacks breasts but does have nipples. There are several Psilocybe species with prominent, even papilionate, umbos. Could this breast-fondling iconographic detail possibly be a guide to identifying one such species?

FIGURE 50. Hayagrīva caresses his consort’s breast. Tibetan print. [Chandra]

There are several other parasol goddesses (e.g. Aparajita-sitātapatrā “Indomitable White Parasol [Lady]”) and more than a few parasol gods. One of the latter is a version of Gaṇapati (the Buddhist form of Gaṇeśa, the elephant-headed god of the Hindus) who often holds an umbrella. We will meet Gaṇapati again in a later chapter. Further corroboration that these parasol and crown bump deities are encoded references to psychedelic plants (if not mushrooms, per se) is provided by the extensive allusions to amṛita in their liturgies.d The ritual invocation of Uṣṇīṣavijayā (“Crown bump Conqueror”) is of particular interest:

oṃ amṛte amṛtōtbhawe amita-vikrānteamita-gate amṛta-gamini amṛtaāyur-date gaggana-krītti-kare sarva-kleśa-kṣayam-karite svāhā

In English…

Oṃ amṛita[-goddess], source of amṛita, infinitely strong, infinitely gone, going in amṛita, giver of immortal life, you who make the sky your hide mat, destroyer of all defilements, svaha!¹⁹²

“Source of amṛita, infinitely strong…” Well, that doesn’t leave much doubt as to what this is about, but the reference to the “hide mat” has defied explanation.¹⁹³ However, given the repeated mentions of amṛita, which after all, is an ancient synonym for soma, one can only assume that the hide mat in question is that used in the Vedic fire sacrifice. In this age-old ritual, two round stones were placed on a cowhide mat and the soma was ground between these stones with a little milk or water. Presumably, the leather mat steadied the lower stone and prevented waste. If any of the soma-milk paste was spilled, it fell safely onto the mat and could be gathered up again.

Figure 51. A peacock-feather parasol hovers over the head of Rematī (Buddhist version of the Hindu goddess Kalī) who also carries a skullcup of amṛita. She is accompanied by two dākinīs. Bottom left, holding the bridle, is Makaramukhā (red with the head of a Makara); bottom right is Siṃhamukhā (white lion’s head; blue body), possibly representing the two mushroom sacraments, Amanita muscaria and Psilocybe cubensis, respectively. Tibetan print. [Wiki]

As noted above, while the atapatrā in Uṣṇīṣasit[a-a]tapatrā does indeed mean “parasol,” it also means “mushroom.” It should not be thought that this word is a symbol or code word for “mushroom;” rather, it is simply an everyday word that any speaker of Sanskrit may have used when talking about those parasol-shaped fungal bodies.

STEMS AND HANDLES

The Sanskrit word for the handle of an umbrella is daṇḍa, literally a club or staff. Thus, if an entire mushroom is called a “parasol,” it seems reasonable to call its stem a daṇḍa. If this were the case we might expect to find a Vajrayāna Buddhist deity, based on “blue-throated” Śiva, called Nīladaṇḍa.

In fact, there is such a deity and his name is normally translated as “Blue Staff” although we could just as well call him “Blue Umbrella-handle.” As one of the “Ten Wrathful Gods,” Nīladaṇḍa is quite an important deity and appears in at least fourteen variant forms.¹⁹⁴ Despite his prominence, the significance of his name, the purpose of his staff, why it is blue and why he carries it, is not explained in any commentary known to this author.

FIGURE 52. Nīladaṇḍa (“Blue Staff”) is yet another Buddhist Śiva. Mongolian print. [Chandra]

We have seen many indications that Uṣṇīṣasitātapatrā represents a psychedelic mushroom species, one that is characterized by an umbo, or “crown bump.” This may allude to the psilocybian umbo, but could it be possible that this meaning of uṣṇīṣa might have been extended to become a covert name for all psychedelic mushrooms?e Perhaps even for all amṛita-sources, whether fungal or not? Support for this hypothesis may be found in a verse of praise to Amaravajradevī (“Deathless thunderbolt goddess”):

Born of Heruka’s clan, great thunderbolt uṣṇīṣa-lady with a face of nectar…¹⁹⁵

Note that this goddess is addressed as an uṣṇīṣa even though she is neither included in lists of uṣṇīṣa-deities nor does she have “uṣṇīṣa” in her name.f Her name is not devoid of interest, though. A-mara means “no-death” and has a precise parallel in a-mṛita (also meaning “no-death”). The vajra portion of her name evokes Indra, the thunderbolt-wielding, soma-loving, king of the Vedic gods and also the worldwide belief that thunder causes mushrooms. Just to underline the matter, she is also addressed as “Thunderbolt Uṣṇīṣa-Lady.” Her mantra is:

oṃ amṛitasana-javani mahā-amṛita-samukhe jiwaṃ praveśaya praveśaya…¹⁹⁶

As with most mantras, this string of words hardly forms an intelligible sentence, but here is a literal translation:

oṃ quick-acting amṛita great eloquent amṛita life entrance entrance

Uṣṇīṣasitātapatrā is described as having 1,000,000,000 eyes and mention of a many-eyed mushroom brings to mind the fly agaric (Amanita muscaria) with its red cap dotted with hundreds of white “eyes.”¹⁹⁷ But she surely cannot represent the fly agaric as we are expressly told that she is “white” (or at least “pale”). Are we then meant to understand that she is a psychoactive mushroom but one which is sita (“white, pale”) and not “the red one”?

FIGURE 53. The female bodhisattva Cundā holds a victory banner in one of her left hands. Chinese drawing. [Chandra]

THE “BANNER OF VICTORY”

There is a tradition in which Uṣṇīṣasitātapatrā carries both a parasol and a banner. The dhvaja, or “banner of victory,” was held aloft by Indian armies upon the defeat of an enemy. Modern western readers might imagine a banner or flag as an oblong or triangular cloth attached by one side (the “hoist”) to a flagpole, and with the opposite end (the “fly”) fluttering in the wind. Such flags did exist in ancient India (they were called patākā), but the dhvaja was quite different. It was essentially a cylinder of cloth with the pole in the center, rather like a parasol with an extended skirt attached. Once we realize that the “banner” in question is a cylinder of fabric with the flagpole at the center, the allusion to a mushroom becomes readily apparent.

FIGURE 54. Cundā‘s victory banner. Enhanced detail of figure 53.

Chinese armies had no equivalent practice of raising a victory banner, so when Chinese artists were called upon to portray the dhvaja, they usually showed an ordinary pennant. Occasionally though, they added a detail which betrayed the secret meaning encoded in the symbol. In Figure 53 we see the goddess Cundā in one of her many variant forms. It should be noted that one of her two symbolic forms (Skt. āyutana) is a jar of amṛita.g In the illustration, one of her left hands is holding a victory banner. Figure 54 reveals this “banner” to be curiously mushroom-like.

FIGURE 55. Cundā in a four-armed variant. She holds a bowl of amṛita and a book (Skt., patra). This “patra” may have been a fore-clipped form of [ata] patra—“mushroom.” Nepali drawing. [Chandra]

The best-known dhvaja-holding deity is the wealth god Kubera, in his role as Vaiśrāvana, one of the four “Heavenly Kings” (Skt. lokapala). In this form he is dressed in a general’s armor so the dhvaja, symbol of military victory, seems appropriate. However, Vaiśrāvana’s dhvaja is not infrequently depicted as an umbrella, indicating yet again the equivalence of these two symbols.

BODHISATTVA BROTHERS

In passing, I should mention the Mahāyāna sutra entitled On the Contemplation of the Two Bodhisattvas, King of Healing and Supreme Healer which survives only in its Chinese translation (c. 424 CE).¹⁹⁸ In it, the Buddha praises the two eponymous bodhisattvas, said to resemble “pure banners,”¹⁹⁹ and speaks of their previous lives as the brothers Star Light and Shining Lightning who donated haritaki and various “Himalayan herbs” to the sangha. Now, haritaki is one of the Sanskrit names for the fruit of the emblic myrobalan tree, Terminalia chebula and is often mentioned in accounts of amṛita and alchemy (viz., the story of Vyāli). Indeed, the identification with amṛita is so commonplace that, as noted earlier, one of the Tibetan names for this fruit is A.Mri.Ta. While the evidence here is a little nebulous, there is a plethora of suggestive terminology including the passing reference to banners and the name “Shining Lightning.” Across the world, in various cultures, lightning is said to cause the growth of mushrooms.

FIGURE 56. The thousand-armed male deity Sitātapatroṣṇīṣa. Although his name means “White Parasol Crown-bump,” there is no parasol in sight. He does hold a book, though, and this may just mean the same thing. Nepali drawing, 18th century. [Chandra]

This sutra is part of a corpus of texts which are associated with Bhaiṣajyaguru, the “Medicine Buddha.” This popular deity is normally shown as deep blue in color, holding a begging bowl which contains myrobalan fruit. The dark blue mineral lapis lazuli seems to be an important part of this Buddha’s identity as his full name is Bhaiṣajya-guru-vaiḍūrya-prabhārāja “royal medicine teacher [with a] lapis lazuli radiance”); he dwells in the paradise called Vaiḍūrya-nirbhāsa (“resembling lapis lazuli”), and his dhāraṇī addresses him:

namo bhagavate bhaiṣajyaguru vaiḍūrya-prabha-rājāya…

In English:

Obeisance to Lord Medicine Guru, King Lapis Light…

The Chinese text On the Contemplation of the Two Bodhisattvas, King of Healing and Supreme Healer also makes much mention of “sweet dew,” which is how amṛita is rendered into Chinese. Supreme Healer, for instance, promises “a dose of sweet dew, the Supreme Medicine.”

I have earlier suggested that myrobalan was used as a literary substitute for the Amanita muscaria mushroom. It is tempting to see the “lapis lazuli radiance” as a similarly veiled reference to the blue discoloration common to many Psilocybe species. Could these mushrooms be the “two brothers” who became so valuable to the sangha? Tantalizing as these clues are, however, I have been unable to draw any definitive conclusions from this text.

While we are not entirely finished with Uṣṇīṣasitātapatrā, it will be instructive to consider some other parasol deities, male this time.

SIR “WHITE PARASOL CROWN BUMP”

Sitātapatroṣṇīṣa (“White Parasol Crown Bump”) is the name of a Vajrayāna god which seems to have been constructed by merely rearranging the elements of Uṣṇīṣasitatapatrā who, in China, was thought of as male.²⁰⁰ Though I have failed to find any direct connection between the two, it is conceivable that Sitātapatroṣṇīṣa had his origin in that Chinese male form of Uṣṇīṣasitātapatrā. On the other hand, there is a male deity called simply Sitātapatra (“White Parasol”), without mention of the “crown bump,” who is known from Nepalese sources. (Figure 57) With his thousand arms and multiplicity of heads, he resembles the thousand-armed form of Avalokiteśvara (and, for that matter, a mushroom cap). This resemblance is not merely superficial; they both carry Rudra’s bow, arrow and medicine flask. But there is a mystery in this image: despite his name, this “White Parasol” carries no parasol (Skt. atapatra). However, in his upper left hand, he holds a book (Skt. pattra). This could be wordplay involving a process which linguists call “foreclipping.”

These days, who speaks of a “telephone” in casual speech? Rather, we speak of a “phone.” In a similar vein, we might hear tell of “bots” on the “net,” meaning “robots” on the “internet.” One may demonstrate casual familiarity with alligators or helicopters by calling them “gators” and “copters.” In similar fashion, fans of mushrooms have given them the affectionate nickname “shrooms.” All these shortened words are examples of foreclipping, where the first part of a word is elided. In the case we are considering, it is entirely possible that, at least between initiates, “atapatra” was shortened to “patra.” If this indeed were the case, then the final step from “patra” (‘shroom) to “pattra” (book) is an elementary pun. Note also that Vyali, the Hindu alchemist who sold Nāgārjuna the secret of amṛita resided in Apatra.

Archaeological investigations at Dunhuang, an ancient Silk Road city in Gansu Province, China, have revealed an extensive system of Buddhist caves. Many of these caves have colorful murals and one of especial interest shows Mañjuśrī, the bodhisattva of wisdom, in a rare, thousand-armed form known as Sahasrapātra Mañjuśrī. In this mural, he presides over the Churning of the Ocean, sitting on the top of Mt. Mandara, in the place of Viṣṇu.h The churning rope of the original myth was a nāga king; the Dunhuang version follows the Indra variant in that it has two nāga kings. Various gods and asuras are present, including Rāhu, the soma-thief. Each of Mañjuśrī’s thousand hands holds a begging-bowl (Skt. pātra) which, with its single |t|, offers a more precise match with [ata]patra.i

Some early nineteenth century Nepali statues of Mañjuśrī substitute a “blue lotus” for the book.²⁰¹ Naturally, this raises the suspicion that “blue lotus” is code for “blue-staining mushroom” but, of course, it may simply mean a blue lotus. Then again, a version of Mañjuśrī known as Mahāratnasambhava Namasaṇgīti Sahlābhāḥ holds a victory banner instead.²⁰² The fact that the victory banner is employed as its substitute for a book lends weight to our contention that, at least in certain cases, a book functions as a mushroom symbol.

Presumably, Nepalese versions of “White Parasol Crown Bump” are close to his (Indian?) origin, but certain of his Japanese representations (Figure 59) are particularly revealing: the bodhisattva appears to be holding, not a parasol, but a distinctly mushroom-shaped object with (need I point out?) a crown bump.

I understand that it sounds more than a little far-fetched to postulate the existence of a clandestine Buddhist tradition of psychedelic mushroom users in China and Japan. A tradition, moreover, which preserved iconographic symbols that are fully understood only by Sanskrit speakers. However, in Vajrayāna initiations, details that are not committed to writing are transmitted in a subsidiary ceremony of secret instructions.j

Just suppose for a moment that such a cult did exist; it then is to be expected that its followers would use whatever psychedelic mushrooms were local to their area. The original, Indian, species would be unavailable in these more northern climes so they would be forced to rely on other, temperate, species. It is hardly likely that they would import Psilocybe cubensis from India. Observe, therefore the enlarged detail in Figure 59. It is a very close match for Ps. liniformans, an Asian species, found in both China and Japan.²⁰³

FIGURE 57. “White Parasol Crown-bump” (Sitātapatroṣṇīṣa), left. Enhanced detail, right. Japanese drawing. [Chandra]

Admittedly, it is difficult to identify a species with any precision from one instance of a simple line drawing. However, there is a ninth century Japanese scroll (the “Chōjō Mandara”) which lists hundreds of deities with their mantras and their symbolic representations (Skt. āyutana). The āyutana symbolic form of Sitātapatroṣṇīṣa is, as one might expect, a “parasol” and the relevant portion of the scroll is shown in Figure 60. Notice the distinctive features of this “parasol:” it has tiny blip on the top, its edges are wavy and curled, and there are small ornaments dangling from the rim.

The following table compares a scientific description²⁰⁴ of the potently psychedelic species Psilocybe argentipes with the āyutana (symbolic representation) of the bodhisattva Sitātapatra-buddhoṣṇīṣa in the “Chōjō Mandara” scroll.

Āyutana | Psilocybe argentipes
has tiny blip on top, | The cap [has]… a sharp umbo.
its edge is curled and wavy | Margin incurved, irregular, often wavy and
with small dangling ornaments. | Adorned with fragments of the partial veil.

FIGURE 58. Sitātapatroṣṇīṣa in his symbolic form as a “parasol” distinctly resembles Psilocybe argetipes. Japanese drawing, 9th century. [Chandra]

The parallels are obvious. Every feature of the drawing may be matched to the textbook description even to the amusingly apt choice of the word “adorned.” If a scientist in late twentieth century United States sees the veil remnants as ornaments, it is little wonder that the same idea occurred in ninth century Japan. If the male bodhisattva Sitātapatroṣṇīṣa (“White Parasol Crown Bump”) is a psychedelic mushroom in disguise, what does that imply for his close relative, the female bodhisattva Uṣṇīṣasitātapatrā (“Crown Bump White Parasol [Lady]”)? Surely this tends to confirm our suspicions that she is a mushroom, too.

______________

a Sita is translated into Tibetan as (“white”).

b Unlike most languages, Sanskrit did not simply evolve from a more ancient version. Each of the five Āryan tribes had their own dialect. So Sanskrit (“the perfected [language]”) was deliberately created as a lingua franca, to be understandable by all Ārya.

c Unspecified but probably Śauṇḍinī (Tib. C’ang.’T’ung.Ma; Eng. “Alcoholic [Lady]”).

d E.g. Aparajitasitātapatrā, Uṣṇīṣavijayā, Uṣṇīṣasitātapatrā.

e Dare one call it an “umbrella term?”

f Deities which do have uṣṇīṣa in their names are discussed in detail in a later chapter.

g The other is a lotus.

h Or “sitting on the top of Mt. Meru, in the place of Indra” if the icon is based on the “Indra variant” of the myth.

i The long |ā| in pātra could be explained as an ablaut inflection, common in Sanskrit grammar.

j Vajrayāna initiations (Tib., wang; Skt., abhiṣeka) often include a transmission of secrets (Tib., tri; Skt., guhya-upadeśa,)

WHEELS AND BUMPS ON THE HEAD

But the one wheel that is hidden, only the inspired know that.

Ṛig Veda, 10.85.161²⁰⁵

WHEELS AND ARROWS

Having already considered Uṣṇīṣasitātapatrā in the context of parasols (and hence, mushrooms), we will now examine her connection with wheels and a mysterious group of deities who seem to allude to the bump on the Buddha’s head. Uṣṇīṣasitātapatrā occurs in several forms: with two arms, four arms, eight arms and, especially popular, with one thousand arms and a billion eyes. One invocation of her thousand-armed form describes her as holding a wheel in each of her 500 left hands and an arrow in each of her 500 right hands. Any deity with a billion eyes and a thousand arrows is reminiscent of the thousand-eyed archer, Rudra, but this pairing of arrow and wheel is rather odd.

FIGURE 59. The oddly named “Wheel-wheel” (Skt., cakra-cakra), an obscure Vajrayāna deity, dances on five skulls (Skt., pañca-munda). Indonesia. [Chandra]

Given that Uṣṇīṣasitātapatrā is widely regarded as a protectress, one might be excused for expecting 500 bows to be provided for all those arrows, but there are none. Unless there was an ancient tradition of using wheels for target practice, it is difficult to see a connection between these two attributes of which the goddess holds an abundant supply. So, what relevance may a wheel have here?

The customary assumption on seeing a wheel in Buddhist art is that it is the dharmacakra, the Buddhist emblem par excellence. Whenever world religions are represented with symbols, the wheel is used to represent Buddhism. But why is this so? The traditional reasons for this go back to legends of Siddhartha’s birth when wise men predicted that he would become either a great emperor (Skt. cakravartin; literally: “wheel turner”) or a spiritual teacher. Siddhartha’s father did all he could to prevent him from developing any spiritual interests. Nevertheless, he eventually left home and wandered in the forest, studying with various teachers. He later found enlightenment by his own efforts and now known as the Buddha (“the awakened one”), he began to teach. In doing so, he is said to have “turned the wheel of the law.”

The name of the Buddhist wheel (dharmacakra) derives from dharma (“law”) + cakra (“wheel”). This dharma is not a law in the legalistic sense but a universal principle, as in the law of gravity. So, Siddhartha ended up as a “wheel turner” after all. Presumably, this is the source of those wheels in the aniconic images, but why teaching a philosophical principle should be referred to as “turning a wheel” is never satisfactorily explained.a

WHEELS AS MUSHROOMS

Carl Ruck, a scholar of ancient Greek, derives the word woinos (Greek for “wine”) from a proto-Indo-European word meaning “spoked wheel.”²⁰⁶ He suggests this originally was a metaphor for a (presumably psychoactive) mushroom, but was subsequently applied to the later intoxicant, wine. Admittedly, Ruck is in a minority of one with this opinion but, when it comes to the origin of the word “wine,” even acknowledged authorities in the field can only hazard guesses.²⁰⁷

A standard work on proto-Indo-European etymology²⁰⁸ has no PIE root words meaning “mushroom” or “toadstool.” This may not be significant when considered in isolation, but let us suppose for a moment that Ruck’s conjecture is correct and that, rather than use a simple, direct word for “mushroom,” the proto-Indo-Europeans employed a term meaning “spoked wheel.” Surely this would imply that the taboo on mushroom words is not just a peculiarity of Sanskrit but dates to the very origins of the Indo-European people.

FIGURE 60. A Buddhist depiction of Viṣṇu holding his “discus.” Or is it Psilocybe argentipes? Japanese drawing. [Chandra]

Chatting recently with the owner of an Indian restaurant, I asked him what the colloquial Hindi term for “mushroom” was.

“Cakra,” he replied.

“Chattra?” I’d expected it to be the same as Sanskrit.

“No, no,” he corrected me. “Cakra.”

This is, of course, the Sanskrit word for “wheel.”

VIṢṆU

Those who carry Śri Viṣṇu in their heart always drink soma…

Śri Suktam 21.2

The Sanskrit cakra not only means “wheel” but also “discus.” It is one of the two weapons of Viṣṇu (often spelled “Vishnu”), the other being a mace (Skt. gada). These two symbols may be combined to create the simulacrum of a mushroom – the discus being the cap and the mace, the stem. Even without the mace, typical depictions of Viṣṇu show the cakra hovering above his raised index finger in such a way as to suggest a mushroom. (See figs. 62, 63)

Viṣṇu is often shown with four arms, his other pair of hands holding a conch shell and a lotus. We have already seen that the lotus flower with its smooth, leafless stem may represent a mushroom but what are we to make of the conch? In Sanskrit literature (and, subsequently, in Tibetan literature, too), the conch is the stereotypical metaphor for whiteness. Also, like many of the deities which we have examined, Viṣṇu is blue. Taken together, then, Viṣṇu’s attributes imply a mushroom – a white one with a blue “body.” It is not difficult, therefore, to see this god as a deified form of Psilocybe cubensis. But, as so often happens with mushroom traditions, there is a conflation or confusion of psychoactive mushrooms. Viṣṇu’s cakra has a name, “Beautiful” (Skt. sudarśana);b it is described as “flaming” and “like the sun.” This sounds very much like descriptions of Amanita muscaria (see Plate 1). In what is surely no coincidence, some versions of the Buddhist deity “Blue-throat” (Skt. nīlakāṇṭha lokeśvara) show him with four arms, carrying a discus, a club, a conch and a lotus.²⁰⁹ There has always been a rivalry between the followers of Śiva and those of Viṣṇu so it is unusual to discover this Buddhist bodhisattva with Śiva’s name and Viṣṇu’s attributes. No doubt the Buddhists who adopted this deity happily conflated the two gods because they realized that they both represented the original “blue-throat,” the Psilocybe cubensis mushroom.

Figure 61. Viṣṇu supports Sudarśana on his finger. Detail of Indian poster. [Wiki]

Returning to Uṣṇīṣasitātapatrā’s wheels and arrows, let’s just consider how those two symbols may be paired. Imagine for a moment that one of these arrows were fired at the center of one of the wheels. The result would be something which resembles a mushroom in shape. Not only is it a disc with a rod extending perpendicularly from its center but the spokes of the wheel mimic a mushroom’s gills (lamellae).

“NOTHING TO DO WITH THE CROWN”

In Vajrayāna there is a class of deities going under the generic name of Uṣṇīṣas. The word uṣṇīṣa means “the crown [of the head]” but the deities have nothing to do with the crown. They are nevertheless popular in Tantric works and their statues are found in China. Hence it is necessary to make a passing reference to these Uṣṇīṣa gods briefly…

The Indian Buddhist Iconography²¹⁰

From the earliest period of Buddhism, there have been pious myths regarding the Buddha. All Buddhas are said to be six feet tall, have golden skin and eight more teeth than lesser mortals. They have marks in the shape of wheels on the palms of their hands and soles of their feet and a clock-wise-turning curl of three hairs between the eyes. The mark that we are going to examine here, however, is the uṣṇīṣa (pronounced oosh-NEE-sha) – a small bulge on the top of a Buddha’s skull. Anyone who has taken time to examine a statue or painting of a Buddha will have noticed a strange bump on the crown of his head. Historically, it has its origin in the art of the Buddhist kingdom of Gandhara. This kingdom (now the province of Kandahar, Afghanistan) originated as a remnant of Alexander the Great’s Asian conquests. Its people spoke Greek, wore Greek dress and, for a while worshiped Greek gods, but when King Menander I (regnant 160-135 BCE) converted to Buddhism, his subjects soon followed suit. There is an account of the king’s first encounter with Buddhist philosophy in a Pali text known as “The Questions of King Milinda” (Pali, milindapanha), which records his conversation with a Buddhist monk called Nāgasena.

The Gandharans adopted Buddhism with enthusiasm but, being culturally Greek, they were accustomed to temples with statues. So, they made the first ever statues of the Buddha, often very beautiful ones. They also minted some charming coins which show a standing Buddha with his Greek name, BOΔΔO (i.e. “Boddo”) on one side and the demigod hero Herakles (Hercules) on the other. So, if the first Buddha statues did not appear until the second century BCE, what was Buddhist art like prior to that time?

Figure 62. The bump on the Buddha’s head is called an uṣṇīṣa. Chinese drawing. [Chandra]

The earliest examples of Buddhist art do not show the Buddha at all. There are stone carvings found on the monumental architecture at such pilgrimage sites as the great stūpa at Sañchi that sometimes show an empty seat beneath the Bodhi tree, sometimes a wheel on a pillar, sometimes a pair of footprints. This is not, as we find in some Islamic traditions, due to a restriction on depicting the human form for, in every case, humans (and even gods) are portrayed in attitudes of reverence toward the focal object. Art historians have traditionally seen this as a reluctance to depict the Buddha, but one scholar has offered an eminently sensible alternative explanation: that the scenes in question are intended to depict a set of pilgrimage sites, each with its own symbolic monument.²¹¹

Figure 63. Tejoraṣi-Uṣṇīṣa holds a disembodied uṣṇīṣa on a lotus. Japanese drawing. [Chandra]

Whatever the reason for the lack of earlier images, the earliest Buddha statues that we know of were made in Gandhara. In these images, the Buddha’s head was not shaven, but his hair was tied up in a topknot. All later Buddha statues ultimately derive from these Gandharan originals though, over time, the Greek-style topknot was misinterpreted as a cranial protrusion. Thus was born the uṣṇīṣa or “crown bump” (from the Sanskrit word for “turban” or “sun-shade”). Thus, the presence of an uṣṇīṣa on Buddha-statues may be accounted for in terms of art history. What cannot be so easily explained is the existence of divine versions of the Uṣṇīṣa. That is, deities who represent the uṣṇīṣa or include a reference to the uṣṇīṣa in their name.

I find it remarkable that there is even one deity who represents the Buddha’s crown bump (Figure 65) but there are, in fact, several lists and groupings of uṣṇīṣa deities. The most popular grouping seems to have been a set of eight called the Aṣtoṣṇīṣas (“eight crown bumps”), although the members of this group vary considerably from one list to another. Possibly the most authoritative list occurs in a description of a maṇḍala in the Niṣpannayogāvalī²¹² (a medieval Indian collection of maṇḍalas) but there are others.

“I HAVE A LITTLE LIST”

During the Yuan dynasty (1271–1368 CE), the emperors of China were Vajrayāna Buddhists and so their former palace complex in Beijing, known as the Forbidden City, includes a Tibetan-style temple called Pao Hsiang Lou. This temple houses a truly remarkable collection of 787 statues in seven chapels, including two entirely different sets of Eight Uṣṇīṣas. For reasons we can only conjecture, this class of deities was once extremely important. So important in fact, that the well-known form of bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara with eleven heads and one thousand arms (Skt. Sahasrabhuja Avalokiteśvara) holds a “manifested uṣṇīṣa Buddha” in one of his thousand hands.

Figure 64. Vija-yoṣṇīṣa as a wheel upon a lotus. Japan. [Chandra]

Few of the uṣṇīṣa deities have a following among present-day Buddhists. A deity called Vikiraṇoṣṇīṣa (aka Uṣṇīṣa-vikiraṇa).), for instance, was once the focus of a thriving cult in medieval Japan and was worshiped in seven different versions.²¹³ However, if it were not for paintings and references to him in old texts, he would now be quite forgotten. Likewise, we know that Vimaloṣṇīṣa (Skt. “The Immaculate Uṣṇīṣa”), has four heads and eight arms because he is the central deity in a six-deity maṇḍala in a Tibetan collection.²¹⁴ But we know little else about him. As with Vikiraṇoṣṇīṣa, this uṣṇīṣa-deity has no current following. Other groups of uṣṇīṣa-deities include the Three Uṣṇīṣas and the Five Uṣṇīṣas, the Nine Uṣṇīṣas and the Ten Uṣṇīṣas. In Japan, the Three Uṣṇīṣas and the Five Uṣṇīṣas were combined to create yet another set of Eight Uṣṇīṣas. As we saw above, Benoytosh Bhattacharyya, in his compendium of Indian Buddhist deities, admitted that he could not understand the significance of the Uṣṇīṣa Buddhas but included them because “they are… popular in Tantric works and their statues are found in China.”²¹⁵ Another source, on the other hand, is not so circumspect and professes to fully understand their significance. Without citing any authority for its opinion, it confidently states that the Uṣṇīṣas…

…are the personified virtues and actions of Śākyamuni: for example, Buddhoṣṇīṣa represents the preaching of the doctrine, Mahoṣṇīṣa represents the great wheel used as a weapon when preaching to people to release them from ignorance; Sitātapatroṣṇīṣa is a shelter for all living beings; Abhyudgatoṣṇīṣa has the power to produce the virtues of a Buddha; and Tathāgata-vikraṇ-oṣṇīṣa the power to break down evil deeds; and so on.

The Buddhist Encyclopedia²¹⁶

EIGHT UṢṆĪṢAS – THREE VARIANTS

In their medieval heyday, there were a great number and variety of uṣṇīṣa-deities. In order to illustrate this, I present some of them here in the following three tables to document some groupings of “Eight Uṣṇīṣas”: (1) as listed in the Tibetan translation of the (Indian) Niṣpannayogāvalī, (2) from the Pao Hsiang Lou statues of Beijing and (3) a Japanese list.

Niṣpannayogāvalī
Mahoṣṇīṣa | Great Uṣṇīṣa | E
Udgatoṣṇīṣa | Emerging U. | SE
Sitātapatroṣṇīṣa | White-parasol U. | S
Mahodgatoṣṇīṣa | Great-emerging U. | SW
Tejorāśi-uṣṇīṣa | Splendor-mass U. | W
Ojas-Uṣṇīṣa | Strength U. | NW
Vijayoṣṇīṣa | Conquest U. | N
Vikiraṇoṣṇīṣa | Scattered U. | NE

Pao Hsiang Lou
Vajroṣṇīṣa | Thunderbolt U. | E
Tejoṣṇīṣa | Blazing U. | SE
Ratnoṣṇīṣa | Gem U. | S
Dhvajoṣṇīṣa | Banner U. | SW
Padmoṣṇīṣa | Lotus U. | W
Tikṣṇoṣṇīṣa | Pungent U. | NW
Viśvoṣṇīṣa | Universal U. | N
Chattroṣṇīṣa | Umbrella U. | NE

Japan
Mahoṣṇīṣa | Great U. | White
Abhyudgatoṣṇīṣa | Sprouting U. | Yellow
Ananta-svara-ghoṣoṣṇīṣa | Endless-cry-hearing U. | Red
Sitātapatroṣṇīṣa | White-parasol U. | Golden
Jayoṣṇīṣa | Victory U. | Saffron
Vijayoṣṇīṣa | Conquest U. | pale yellow
Tejorāśi-uṣṇīṣa | Splendor-mass U. | White
Vikiraṇoṣṇīṣa | Scattered U. | off-white

The Japanese set lacks the compass directions but provides additional, and quite curious, color information. Tantric deities often have colored skin but the colors are usually very bold and distinct – white, black, dark blue, yellow, red and green being the most common. By contrast, many of the colors in this list are limited to four yellows, three whites and a red. What is more, many of these colors are only subtly different. Thus, the list discriminates between yellow, pale yellow, golden and saffron. A distinction is also made between white and off-white (literally “not very deep white”). These do not seem to be the usual symbolic colors we encounter in tantric contexts which correspond to the Buddha families (Skt. kula).

The directions and colors shown above are those to which the Buddha families are assigned in maṇḍala (though the colors of the Buddha and Vajra families may be reversed in some tantras). Frequently, such maṇḍala include corner deities who span two kula in which case they partake of the colors of both kula¸ divided down the middle. These kula colors provide the vivid, primary colors found in Tibetan paintings. The Japanese set of Eight Uṣṇīṣas, on the other hand distinguishes between subtle shades. Rather than just “yellow,” it lists “golden,” “saffron” and “pale yellow;” and instead of just “white,” it also has “off-white.” These colors are not the familiar colors of tantric art; rather, they are the sort of color terms employed by a natural history field guide in its descriptions of flowers... or mushrooms.

FIGURE 65. A schematic maṇḍala. Note the orientation: by tradition, one enters by the eastern gate, thus it is at the bottom or “closest.”

The dozen or so deities included in these three lists by no means exhaust the various deities with uṣṇīṣa somewhere in their name. Some prominent uṣṇīṣa-deities omitted from these lists include Uṣṇīṣa-cakravartin (“Crown Bump Wheel Turner”), Uṣṇīṣa-Buddha, Uṣṇīṣajvāla (“Crown Bump Blaze”) and the goddess Uṣṇīṣavijayā, who has at least six different forms and a male equivalent called Uṣṇīṣavijaya (with a short final |a|).

I list all these names and their variants not for the sake of tedious repetition, but merely to illustrate that uṣṇīṣa deities were so numerous and so widespread that we must concur with Dr. Bhattacharyya’s opinion that they represent a historical cult of some importance.

THE NINETEENTH TĀRĀ

The goddess Tārā (“savioress”) is extremely well-known and well-loved in Tibet and Nepal. So much so, in fact, that Dr. Lokesh Chandra, a leading authority on Buddhist deities lists fifty major iconographic variants of her image.²¹⁷ Almost every Tibetan Buddhist family begins the day with the recitation of the Praises to the Twenty-One Tārās. This hymn has one verse for each of twenty-one different aspects of the goddess, the nineteenth being Uṣṇīṣa-sitātapatrā-Tārā (“Crown Bump White-parasol Tārā”).c From her name, one might expect her to carry a parasol, but many Tibetan texts show her wielding a club. Prof. Chandra cites a Mongolian variant that “replaces the club with a parasol”²¹⁸—though to this author’s eyes, the alleged “parasol” appears to be a victory banner.

Without the -Tārā suffix, Uṣṇīṣa-sitātapatrā has enjoyed a successful solo career and is big in Tibet, where she is known as Dug Karmo (“White Umbrella”). The fact that Sūryagupta included Uṣṇīṣasitātapatrā in his list of twenty-one “Tārās” attests to her importance (and the importance of uṣṇīṣa deities generally) to Vajrayāna Buddhists in ninth century India.

WHY UṢṆĪṢA?

What was the basis of this “crown bump” cult and can we make anything of this bizarre collection of names? Prof. Lokesh Chandra, no doubt struck by the oddness of the names, suggests that uṣṇīṣa might signify “summit” or “supreme excellence” rather than “crown bump.”²¹⁹ In defense of this hypothesis he offers the fact that, in many maṇḍalas, Uṣṇīṣacakravartin (“Crown Bump Wheel Turner”) occupies the zenith. But, even if we accept this interpretation, it leaves us with such puzzling names as “Supremely Excellent White Parasol” and “Supremely Excellent Umbrella,” the significance of which is not immediately evident. Where do umbrellas and parasols fit in this explanation?

As to the names of the uṣṇīṣa deities, four are easily explained. The Thunderbolt, Gem, Lotus, and Universal Uṣṇīṣas take their names from the symbols assigned to the four “Buddha families” that correspond to the four directions: vajra (East), ratna (South), padma (West) and karma (North), respectively. The symbol of the karma family is the viśva vajra,d hence Viśvoṣṇīṣa (= viśva + uṣṇīṣa). These four names are fully in accord with the conventions of Vajrayāna symbolism; it is the remaining names that seem odd. Yet, despite their apparent strangeness, I believe that they may all be understood.

VICTORY AND CONQUEST

The names Uṣniṣavijayā, Vijayoṣniṣa and Jayoṣniṣa are derived from jaya (“victory”) and vijaya (“conquest”), both of which are traditional synonyms for amṛita. According to legend, the gods had to defeat the demons in battle in order to gain access to the sacred drug. Tradition has it that these names have been used to mean “amṛita” ever since. This legend could also be read as a mythologized account of the conflict between the invading Āryans and the indigenous people of India. If this is the case, then the elixir which the Āryan “gods” won from the indigenous asuras may have been Psilocybe cubensis, a readily available replacement for their vanishingly scarce sacrament, Amanita muscaria. To this day, vijaya is the name of a psychoactive sacrament in Hindu tantra but, in modern versions of the rites, it is taken to mean cannabis.²²⁰ It is clear therefore that, by including the term vijaya, the name Uṣniṣavijayā (“Crown Bump Conquest [Lady]”) would carry implications of psychoactivity and might well refer to a psychoactive plant. This suspicion is heightened when we learn that one of her supplemental names is “The Spiritual Food of All the Buddhas.”²²¹ I believe that this designation is intended quite literally, that she is a spiritual food, or at least, something which may be ingested for spiritual purposes. Confirmation of this conjecture is found in her mantra, amṛita āyurdade svāhā (“[elixir of] immortality, give life, so be it”) and the Mongolian translation of her name as “Amṛita Crown Lady.”²²²

As the dhvaja in Dhvajoṣṇīṣa (“Banner Uṣṇīṣa”) is the “banner of victory,” held aloft by an Indian army upon the defeat of an enemy, it is clearly associated with the jaya (“victory”) and vijaya (“conquest”) deities. There is good reason to link it to the parasol deities, too. We have seen that the parasol and umbrella names (i.e. Chattroṣṇīṣa, Sitātapatroṣṇīṣa, Aparajita-sitātapatrā, Uṣṇīṣa-sitātapatrā and Sitātapatroṣṇīṣa) may be interpreted as references to psychedelic mushrooms. “Banner” names should also be classed with these. We saw earlier that the ancient Indian banner somewhat resembled a parasol and that in certain cases the banner and parasol symbols were interchangeable. Thus, the dhvaja or “banner of victory” provides a connection between the umbrella symbols (Skt. chattra, atapatra) and the allusions to soma/amṛita as “victory” and “conquest.” It is perhaps noteworthy that Indian temples of Viṣṇu are customarily “protected” by two statues of deities known as Jaya and Vijaya.e In addition, Jayā (Skt. “victorious lady”) and Vijayā (Skt. “conquering lady”) are the names of two attendant goddesses found in the retinue of Śiva’s wife Parvatī (Hindu) and in that of the goddess Chinnamastā (both Hindu and Buddhist).

RĀHU AND THE SEA-MONSTER

The victory banner carried by Rāhu, the soma-thief, (Figure 29) is said to be made from the hide of a sea monster (Skt. makara). A similar sea monster banner (Skt. makara-dhvaja) is carried by Kāma, god of love. I have never seen any reason given for this choice of flag material but, as happens so often in Sanskrit, it could simply be a play on words. The Sanskrit word makāra (with a long ā) means “the letter m” and is often shorthand for “a word beginning with m.” For instance, in Hindu tantra, ritual sex (Skt. maithuna) involves the pañca-makāra (“five m’s”), four supposedly aphrodisiac substances plus the sex act itself, all of which begin with m. Sanskrit literature abounds with puns and, as wordplay goes, the substitution of makara for makāra is quite trivial. The question is, which m-word is meant? What does the m stand for? Well, as Rāhu had replaced the amṛita with his urine, the most obvious makāra (“m-word”) in this case is mutra, “urine.” If, as I suggest, the banner of victory is equivalent to a parasol as a mushroom symbol, then Rāhu’s makara banner may be interpreted as “the urine-mushroom” or fly agaric.

FIGURE 66. The siddha Luipa was said to live on fish intestines. Here, wearing a very odd turban, he sits on a makara skin. Tibetan print. [Chandra]

There are other Buddhist deities who carry the makara banner. Madhukara (“honey-” or “mead-maker”), for example, carries a bow, an arrow, a makara banner and a drinking cup.²²³ It may be no coincidence that the bumpa, the traditional amṛita-vessel, used in initiations and tantric feats, has a spout that emerges from the mouth of a makara (Plate 11).

DOES UṢṆĪṢA MEAN “PSYCHEDELIC?”

Now that we have explored the alternative significance of crown bumps, umbrellas, and wheels, it does not require a great stretch of the imagination to see the various Uṣṇīṣa deities as mushrooms—either different mushroom species or different qualities of a single species. Mushrooms are found randomly distributed, so we have a “scattered Uṣṇīṣa.” They grow in damp places and especially during the rainy season, hence the Unnata (“moisture”) uṣṇīṣa deity. Also, as we have seen, “wheel” may have been used to mean “mushroom,” thus explaining the “wheel-turning” uṣṇīṣa deities. It is quite possible that, once uṣṇīṣa became established as a code word for Psilocybe mushrooms, its usage was extended to include other psychoactive fungi such as Amanita muscaria. This would account for several of the names.

Accounts of A. muscaria experiences may be found on the drug information website www.erowid.org. Many writers of these accounts have seen fit to include comments on the taste of this mushroom and their opinions range from “delicious” to “disgusting.” It is not clear from these accounts whether the differing views regarding the palatability of fly agaric reflects personal variations of taste, different methods of preparation or variations in the mushroom itself. According to poet, novelist and classical scholar Robert Graves, some specimens may be “hot as hot.” Graves reported that, “at the age of twelve,” he “experimentally touched a piece with the tip of my tongue—it tasted like liquid fire.”²²⁴ Thus, “pungent Uṣṇīṣa” could refer generally to the distinctive taste of A. muscaria, or more specifically to an especially spicy variety.

Anyone who has seen its brilliant red color shining through the undergrowth like a fiery jewel will recognize the aptness of “blazing Uṣṇīṣa” and “mass-of-splendor Uṣṇīṣa.” Also, as A. muscaria is often said to induce feats of great strength,²²⁵ this may be the basis of the name Ojas-uṣṇīṣa (“physical strength Uṣṇīṣa”).

“ELEVATED” OR “UP-CHUCKED?”

Dr. Chandra, with some justification, translates Udgatoṣṇīṣa as “Elevated Uṣṇīṣa.” I have chosen instead to translate udgata as “emerging;” though I was tempted to translate it as “throw-up.” I admit the latter is a little unorthodox, but I believe it is justified. The Sanskrit ud-gata is literally “up-gone” and the name could be intended to carry an ambiguous allusion to vomit. Monier-Williams in his exhaustive Sanskrit-English Dictionary gives “vomited” as one of the meanings of udgata and glosses the related word udgati as “vomiting.”²²⁶ In similar vein, Abhyudgatoṣṇīṣa could be interpreted as “Anointed-with-vomit Uṣṇīṣa.”

While mild nausea is an occasional side effect of Psilocybe use (especially at the onset of effects), vomiting is a frequent consequence of A. muscaria ingestion. Incidentally, this side effect of A. muscaria intoxication may account for this statement from a Vedic commentary:

Three things are performed at the [soma] sacrifice: eating, swallowing and vomiting.

Aitareya Brāhmaṇa²²⁷

But vomit is merely one meaning of udgati; when speaking of a young stag’s antlers, it means “sprouting” – a word that is also perfectly apt for mushrooms. Sanskrit writers loved to pack many meanings into a word so alternative interpretations are by no means mutually exclusive.

Clearly, the names Udgatoṣṇīṣa and Abhyudgatoṣṇīṣa are closely related. My translations: “Emerging Uṣṇīṣa” and “Sprouting Uṣṇīṣa” were intended to reflect this connection.

THE GREAT UṢṆĪṢA

There is yet another Japanese list of Uṣṇīṣas called the “Nine Uṣṇīṣas.” It includes a deity called Ekākṣara Uṣṇīṣa who carries a wheel surrounded by blades. Another, Unnata-uṣṇīṣa (“Moisture U.”), holds an eight-spoked wheel. The Sanskrit term ekākṣara (eka-akṣara = “one syllable”) usually refers to the mantric syllable oṃ but akṣa also means “axle” and a single wheel on an axle could be construed as a homologue of a mushroom.f Ekākṣara Cakravartin, a deity whose name contains an explicit reference to a wheel (Skt. cakra) is especially intriguing in this regard.²²⁸

Tantras often contain instructions on slaying “enemies” or “sacrificial victims.” For instance, the Cakrasaṃvara-tantra has a chapter concerning animal sacrifice²²⁹ and a passage in the Hevajra Tantra describes a “slaying rite,” which causes a “victim” to be split apart “by meditation alone” (Skt. dhyānamātreṇa).g A few lines later, the text states that it is to be done “by hand, at the base of the navel” (hastena tu nābhimūla).²³⁰ David Snellgrove, the first to translate the Hevajra Tantra into English, could not reconcile the word hastena with the prior statement that this rite was purely mental in nature.²³¹ Consequently, he eschewed the obvious meaning of hastena (“by hand”), preferring “by a cubit” instead. Not only does this misrepresent the original Sanskrit, but it is also a poor choice of English. A handsbreadth is a “span,” whereas a “cubit” is the distance from elbow to fingertips. The problem disappears once we recognize “wheel” as code for “mushroom” and that nābha has a secondary meaning. In addition to “navel,” it also means “the nave (hub) of a wheel.”²³² Even in English the words “nave” and “navel” are cognate, both being derived from *Proto-Indo-European *h₃nobh (“navel”). In an earlier chapter, we noted that the Ṛig Veda, in addition to “soma,” used many other terms for the Vedic sacrament. One of the more curious of these soma synonyms was nabhi ekapad (“one-legged navel”).²³³ The single leg presumably alludes to the stem or stipe of the mushroom, the “navel” being the hub of the mushroom wheel.

My speculations regarding the real nature of this “rite of destruction” receive confirmation in the very next verse of the tantra, which states that the sacrificial victim is…

… like poison in its natural state, but when purified, it becomes amṛita.

Hevajra Tantra, II.ix, 9²³⁴

Yet, even if we accept this linguistic speculation, we are still left with the question of why someone would “decapitate” a mushroom. One answer might be that this ceremony emulates the original soma rite in which a tethered animal was sacrificed by decapitation and only in this, less violent, ritual a mushroom is the “victim.” There is another entirely practical explanation that addresses the condition of any mushrooms that have been picked in the wild. Seasoned mushroom foragers know to separate the cap and stem of a mushroom before use to inspect it for insect larvae. Many species of fly lay their eggs in fungi and their larvae are most evident at the junction between cap and stem.

FIGURE 67. The tantra of Mahāmāyā (Great Illusion) provides instruction on making and consuming magic pills. Here, the goddess Mahāmāyā holds an axle in her third right hand. Nepali drawing. [Chandra]

Jacob Dalton, in his book Taming the Demons, translates two Vajrayāna ritual texts that appear to describe human sacrifice. In one of the ceremonies, the victim’s head is severed then tossed onto a drawing of a maṇḍala, whereupon prognostications are made from its disposition.²³⁵ This is very similar to some initiation rituals in which the initiate tosses a flower onto the maṇḍala in order to determine their kula. Although it is unclear from the text whether the victim of the ritual is an actual human, an effigy, or merely imagined, it also makes perfect sense if it is a mushroom. It is certainly easier to toss a mushroom cap onto a maṇḍala than a human head.

One fascinating aspect of Dalton’s book is a lengthy translation of the Buddhist myth of Black Liberation. The story begins with a Vajrayāna student who takes the teachings too literally and indulges his passions to an alarming degree. His actions result in his rebirth in a cemetery as a demon called Black Liberation. In this form, he eats his demoness mother and thereby acquires magic powers. He grows to be immensely powerful and develops several curious anatomical features. For instance, his body becomes covered with bluish-white ashes and dots (Skt. bindu) of (red) blood and (white) fat. Bird wings sprout form his body, enabling him to fly, and he becomes slimy like a fish, allowing him to swim underwater. His limbs are scaly and ornamented with snakes.

These details may also be descriptions of mushrooms: the “ashes” representing the bluish-white spores of the (red and white) Amanita muscaria mushroom, with the bird wings being its gills. Likewise, the ornamental “snakes” could be the serpentine remnants of the universal veil often found on the caps of A. muscaria. His “slimy skin” is not, however, applicable to A. muscaria although a “viscid pellicle” is a defining characteristic of the Psilocybe genus.h

Eventually, the demon becomes so powerful that he acquires the name Maheśvara (“great lord”), though by the end of the tale he is referred to as Black Rudra. The Buddhist deities marshal their forces against the demon and emanate an adversary for him which, while motivated by compassion and the thought of enlightenment, resembles Maheśvara in every detail. Of course, Maheśvara and Rudra are merely alternative names for Śiva and this Buddhist story was obviously concocted to denigrate that Hindu deity while simultaneously providing an explanation of the Buddhist deities who seem to be direct copies of Śiva’s wrathful forms. However, as we have already seen, Śiva was an apotheosis of the Psilocybe cubensis and thus we may assume that his Buddhist versions carried the same meaning. So, returning to the topic of human sacrifice, perhaps this “victim” is really a mushroom. If so, what the tantra describes as a ritual murder by decapitation may, in reality, be the simple act of manually detaching a mushroom’s stem from its cap. Framing it as an act of extreme violence is entirely in keeping with the deliberately misleading, transgressive language typical of the tantras. The apparent murder or human sacrifice also offers a parallel to the original, Vedic, soma ceremony in which an animal was ritually beheaded.

The Eight Uṣṇīṣas are typically depicted seated between the spokes of an eight-spoked “wheel of the law” (Skt. dharmacakra). This symbol of the Buddha’s teaching is usually shown with eight spokes (like the one held by Unnata), and sometimes with sixteen spokes. However, the earliest written accounts such as the “Great Beautiful One”i describe it as having one thousand spokes.²³⁶ Perhaps this “thousand” simply means “a number higher than anyone cares to count” – like the many gills of a mushroom.

Mahoṣṇīṣa, is sometimes listed as Mahoṣṇīṣa-cakravartin (“Great Uṣṇīṣa, the Wheel Turner”) and, as if the name Anantasvaraghoṣoṣṇīṣa were not unwieldy enough, he has the alternative name Anantasvara-ghoṣacakravarty-uṣṇīṣa (“Endless-cries-hearing, Wheel-turning Uṣṇīṣa”). Not only does this bodhisattva hold a wheel, but he sits at the hub of a wheel with eight other uṣṇīṣa-deities between the spokes. In another version, a Buddha hovers above his head surrounded by an aura of wheels. One might expect, therefore, that the word for “wheel” (Skt. cakra) might occur somewhere in his name and yet, this deity is not called “Great Wheel” (Mahācakra) but “Great uṣṇīṣa” (Mahoṣṇīṣa = mahā + uṣṇīṣa). A deity called Mahācakra does exist, though. He is a form of Vajrasattva (“thunderbolt hero”) and has quite an interesting mantra:

oṃ nīlāmbaradhara vajrapāṇi-hṛidaya maharishi-sattva hūṃ phat

In English, that is:

oṃ, blue-clad essence of Vajrapāṇi, great wrathful being, hūṃ phat

This “blue-clad” “Great Wheel” is undoubtedly a blue-staining Psilocybe mushroom (Plate 6). The mention of Vajrapāṇi brings to mind not only the Buddhist bodhisattva of that name but also the original Vajrapāṇi: Indra, king of the Hindu gods, also known as Somapati (“the soma-lord”).

The Buddhist Encyclopedia, you will recall, offers the explanation that Mahoṣṇīṣa “represents the great wheel used as a weapon when preaching to people to release them from ignorance.” This use of a wheel is not only unfamiliar to me but I find a literal interpretation difficult to imagine. Just how does the “great wheel” function as a weapon? Was it a battle-discus, like that wielded by Viṣṇu? And just how would this wheel-weapon “release them from ignorance”? One possible answer is that the uṣṇīṣa-deities were, in reality, psychoactive mushrooms. It is easy to see how such a species may have acquired a reputation for “converting” people – with a sufficiently high dose, a shift in philosophical perspective is guaranteed. Is it possible that these mushrooms may have been administered surreptitiously to “release” someone mired in “ignorance?” Was there a tantric practice of dosing the uptight with shrooms? Surely, this would be a “wheel” that was “used as a weapon.”

UṢṆĪṢASITĀTAPATRĀ

There are two known traditions of Uṣṇīṣasitātapatrā in which she has eight arms. In both of these, one of her eight hands holds a wheel. In her thousand-armed forms, her arms are arranged in a circle like the thousand spokes of the Buddhist dharmacakra – or the gills of a mushroom. She has a thousand heads and 1,000,000,000 eyes – one in each palm of her thousand hands and (unlike Avalokiteśvara, but rather like Indra, Rudra and Rahu) the remaining 999,999,000 are distributed all over her body. According to Wasson, supernumerary eyes may represent the white dots (remnants of the universal veil) on the bright red cap of Amanita muscaria.²³⁷

Aside from these opaque hints and allusions to a psychoactive mushroom, there are several good reasons for associating this deity with amṛita and soma. For instance, amṛita is referred to in some of her liturgical praises and the dhāraṇī of Uṣṇīṣasitātapatrā has one of the very few explicit references to soma in Buddhism.

Unlike mantras, dhāraṇīs are composed largely of actual Sanskrit words. For instance, many dhāraṇīs begin with the expression tad-yathā, Sanskrit for “as follows.” Unfortunately, while individual words of a dhāraṇī are often recognizable, translations of entire dhāraṇīs are seldom meaningful. The dhāraṇī of Uṣṇīṣasitātapatrā is particularly interesting. It has been translated into English thus:

As follows: oṃ, fire, fire, sky-equal, sky-equal.

O powerful one! O powerful one!

O Soma-lady! O Soma-lady!j

Consecrated with inspiring power of all Buddhas,

Crown bump of all Tathāgathas [i.e. Buddhas].

White umbrella lady,

hum phat for me hum ni svaha!²³⁸

If my suspicions are justified, the dhāraṇī may also be rendered:

As follows: oṃ, fire, fire, sky-equal, sky-equal.

O powerful one! O powerful one!

O soma! O soma!

Consecrated with inspiring power of all Buddhas,

Psychoactive mushroom of all enlightened ones,

White mushroom lady,

hum phat for me hum ni svaha!

The fact that soma is even mentioned here is astonishing. While Buddhism borrowed many soma traditions from Hinduism, it hardly ever mentions soma by that name. In almost every instance the word is replaced by its synonym, amṛita.

FIGURE 68. “Saume, saume” (Oh soma, Oh soma). Detail of Tibetan prayer flag with the dhāraṇī of Uṣṇīṣasitātapatrā. [Chandra]

In Hinduism, the terms soma and amṛita are used interchangeably yet Vajrayāna Buddhism refers to its sacramental elixir exclusively as amṛita. Buddhist references to soma are very rare. This may be because early Buddhism condemned Brahmanical rituals and presumably, the use of the soma that these rites entailed. Thus, when Buddhists (that is, Vajrayānist or tantric Buddhists) eventually appropriated the soma fire ritual, they referred to the sacrament as amṛita, as though this was a distinctly separate substance. Indeed, by the time Buddhism reached Tibet soma and amṛita were assumed to be two very different substances with very different origin myths.

______________

a According to the earliest Buddhist teachings, the Buddha’s teachings on the release from suffering constituted his “turning of the wheel.” Later, in the Mahāyāna schools, it was said that there were two further turnings: the “perfection of wisdom” teachings on no-thing-ness and the teachings on innate Buddha nature.

b Sudarśana is also the name of Indra’s palace.

c Tibetan Buddhism has two major variants of this list in which the forms of Tārā are listed in different orders. Uṣṇīṣa-sitātapatrā-Tārā may also appear as number four.

d This symbol is often referred to as the “double thunderbolt,” but the literal meaning of viśva is “omnidirectional.” I have taken the liberty of translating this as “universal.”

e See earlier discussion of Viṣnu as a possible apotheosis of Psilocybe cubensis.

f Yet another meaning of akṣa is “a die.” This may possibly relate to the pair of dice carried by Rematī.

g “By meditation alone.” If, instead, dhyānamātreṇa is translated as “in the imagination,” Snellgrove’s concern regarding physical violence is easily resolved.

h The pellicle is a transparent covering of the caps of some mushroom species. One of the defining characteristics of the Psilocybe genus is that its species have an easily detached pellicle that is viscid (i.e. slimy) when wet.

i Pali, Mahā Sudassana Suttanta. The personal name Sudassana (“beautiful”) is essentially the same as the Sanskrit word sudarśana, the name of Viṣṇu’s cakra (“wheel” or “discus”).

j I see no justification for Willson and Brauen’s “Soma-lady” as the word soma is masculine and saume may be parsed as either the vocative case (“O soma”) or the locative case (“in the soma”).

TIBET - HEIR TO INDIAN BUDDHISM

FROM ITS BEGINNINGS in the sixth century BCE to its destruction in 1,300 CE, Indian Buddhism underwent many changes. One of the schools of early Buddhism, known as Theravada (“Way of the Elders”), still exists in Thailand, Myanmar, Cambodia, Laos, and Śri Lanka while Mahāyāna Buddhism exists in China, Korea, Japan and Vietnam. The final phase of Indian Buddhism, known as Vajrayāna is found mainly in Tibet and those countries over which it once held sway: Mongolia, Nepal, Sikkim, Bhutan and Ladakh. At one time, the Vajrayāna flourished in China and spread from there to Japan where it is represented by the Shingon and Tendai schools. In China itself, it waned in popularity and was eventually absorbed into Ch’an Buddhism.a

A potion called amṛita is, even to this day, an essential part of Vajrayāna initiations. Its stated function is to remove the belief in the personal ego and to dissolve the boundary between the guru and the student undergoing the initiation. It would seem obvious from this description that a profoundly psychedelic substance is implied. The modern concoction is mainly symbolic, however, and consists of a few herbal pills dissolved in water or alcohol. This may be because the initiation lineages of the present day are exclusively monastic. Even though the initiations may be given to lay practitioners, they were originally intended for monks and nuns. Very few texts have survived that relate to the tantric initiation of lay practitioners and it is quite likely that these would have differed profoundly from the restrained rituals of monastic communities.

Thanks to the Tibetans’ immense respect for the Indian phase of Buddhism, the teachings, legends, and practices they inherited from that country have been preserved very faithfully. The arguments put forward in monastic debate, for instance, are those which were propounded in India, as long ago as the first century CE. For instance, to explain the philosophical concept of “emptiness,” many Tibetan lamas use the same simile: the hollow stalk of the banana plant. Before the recent diaspora, most Tibetans had seen neither bananas nor the plants on which they grow. Nevertheless, this is the simile that is used, not because it is most effective as an example but because it had been used, and hence sanctified, by great teachers of the past in the holy land of India.

It is this tendency to preserve which makes Tibetan Buddhism something of a museum in which we may view, albeit “through a glass, darkly,” the practices of Buddhism in more ancient times.

THE “EARLY SPREADING”

Tibet’s own historical tradition maintains that Buddhism first entered the country when a casket of scriptures and relics fell out of the sky onto king Totori Ñentsen’s palace roof.

Unfortunately, Tibet had yet to develop a writing system and the king was illiterate. The first practicing Tibetan Buddhist was its 33rd king, Songtsen Gampo,b who married princesses of two neighboring powers – Nepal and China. Both princesses were Buddhist and it is said that they converted the king. However, as Tibet was surrounded by Buddhist lands (Nepal, Kashmir, Bactria, Khotan, and China) it was undoubtedly an astute diplomatic move. Songtsen built temples and had scriptures brought from India for translation but, until the late eighth century, Buddhism remained the religion of royalty and a few aristocrats.

It was not until the reign of King Trisong Detsen that the first monastery, Samye, was constructed (c. 779 CE) under the guidance of the Indian monk Śāntarakṣita with help from a tantric yogin and wonder-worker named Padmasambhava.

THE PRECIOUS TEACHER

The origin of Padmasambhava is shrouded with mystery. According to his Tibetan biographies, Padmasambhava, like Āryadeva, was born miraculously (at the miraculous age of eight) from a lotus blossom growing in a lake in the land of Orgyen.c Even as a child his special qualities became apparent to the local king who appointed the young boy his successor. Padmasambhava had no interest in ruling, however, and traveled to India to study Vajrayāna Buddhism.

It is said that during the construction of Samye the building collapsed several times. The consensus was that the genii loci, the “earth-lord” demons known as sadak, were upset by this manifestation of a foreign religion. Śāntarakṣita, although thoroughly versed in the Mahāyāna teachings, lacked expertise in handling demons. Accordingly, King Trisong Detsen invited the tantric thaumaturge Padmasambhava to Tibet. Rather than simply destroy the demons, Padmasambhava converted them and made them promise to protect Buddhism in their homeland and, in the process, placed a Buddhist seal of approval on the traditional propitiations of local deities.

Keith Dowman, a translator of Tibetan texts and presenter of Dzogchen to the modern world, suggests that Padmasambhava had much in common with tantric Hindu sadhus. In particular, Dowman suggests that he may well have partaken of their typical drugs, cannabis and datura.²³⁹ This is mere speculation but, if we are to consider him as an Indian sadhu, the possibility that he used these drugs falls somewhere between highly likely and almost certain.

FIGURE 69. Yeshe Tsogyäl holding a skullcup of amṛita.

Trisong Detsen was so impressed by Padmasambhava that he became his devoted disciple. The king demonstrated the depth of his devotion by presenting Padmasambhava with his most treasured possession, namely his beautiful young wife, Yeshe Tsogyäl.d Padmasambhava took Yeshe Tsogyäl as his tantric consort and, a quick study, she soon attained his level of realization. As a fully enlightened tantric siddha, Padmasambhava had the ability to foresee the future and knew that there would come a dark age when Buddhism would be suppressed in Tibet. He also knew that some of his teachings would not find a suitable audience for many centuries. The answer to both these problems was to dictate the teachings to Yeshe Tsogyäl who transcribed them (using a special alphabet) onto yellow scrolls which were then concealed for later discovery.

Eventually, Yeshe Tsogyäl took up with another, younger, consort and Padmasambhava left Tibet to live in his palace on the summit of the Copper-colored Mountain, his island paradise, where he continues to subdue demons to this day. The reason for his remarkably extended life span is that he is immortal due to his knowledge of amṛita. Around 840 CE, King Langdarma ascended to the throne of Tibet and sided with an anti-Buddhist, pro-Bön faction of courtiers. Before long, Buddhism was outlawed, scriptures were burned, and monasteries destroyed. This anti-Buddhist climate persisted for the next 150 years.

STUDYING IN INDIA

At first, Tibetan Buddhists belonged to no “school,” “sect,” or “lineage;” they simply considered themselves Buddhist. Their practice was based on the original Sanskrit texts imported by the first Buddhist kings. As with many scriptures in the modern West, these texts were translated individually by various learned scholars with no consideration given to consistency in translations.

By the tenth century, however, many Tibetan pilgrims had made their way to India. Some of them studied with Indian gurus and many brought back Sanskrit scriptures. Both activities were to have profound effects on Tibetan Buddhism. With so many more sutras and tantras reaching Tibet, “translation committees” were set up in an effort to standardize translations, such that a given Sanskrit term was always translated with the same Tibetan word. Tibetan equivalents were even found for grammatical forms found in Sanskrit but not in Tibetan, such as the “dual number.”e

At the same time, those who had studied with Indian gurus now considered themselves part of an Indian, rather than Tibetan, lineage. One result was the rise of the “new translation” schools such as the Kagyud, Sakya,f and Kadam, each of which aligned itself with an earlier Indian lineage. The Kagyud lineage, for instance, saw itself as continuing a line of illustrious Indian gurus, the earliest of which being the mahāsiddha Saraha and the most recent being Nāropa, the renowned debating master of Nālanda University. Its first Tibetan guru was Marpa, a student of Nāropa and the teacher of Milarepa.

MARPA AND MILAREPA

The tantric teachings of Vajrayāna Buddhism were transmitted, often in conditions of great secrecy, in an oral lineage from teacher to student and these ritual transmissions required the drinking of amṛita. One of the Vajrayāna’s claims was that it possessed the secret means of attaining enlightenment in this very lifetime. Was amṛita this secret? Did “enlightenment” come in a flask?

The evidence for mushroom amṛita is not obvious but is quite apparent, even blatant, when pointed out. Several clues may be found in historical accounts of initiations and from ancient biographies of tantric masters such as that of Tibet’s most celebrated yogin, Milarepa (i.e. Mila the cotton-wearer).

FIGURE 70. Marpa, the translator, was a prominent figure in the Tibetan renaissance. He brought scriptures from India and was Milarepa’s guru. Note the skullcup of amṛita resting upon an amṛita jar behind Marpa’s right arm. Tibetan print. [Chandra]

A hermit lay practitioner of the eleventh century, Milarepa’s mastery of the yoga of “inner heat” allowed him to live in remote Himalayan caves.g He was renowned for his ability to extemporize teachings in the form of songs and several collections of his songs still exist. About three centuries after his death, the major events in his life were compiled with a selection of his songs to form a biography known as The Hundred Thousand Songs of Milarepa (Tibetan: Mi.La.Gru.Bum), composed by an author who called himself Tsangnyön Heruka (“the crazy Heruka from Tsang”). From this account, we learn that Milarepa’s guru was Marpa, the famous translator and first Tibetan of the Kagyud lineage. Marpa had traveled to India and had studied with many of the great yogins of his day including Nāropa, Maitripa, and Kukkuripa who was said to have lived on an island in a lake of boiling poison.h This last detail is most intriguing.²⁴⁰ Is this “lake of poison” an oblique reference to the use of plant elixirs (the term “poison” being so often used for psychoactivity) or is it a more psychological symbol, with the poisons being the three classic “poisons” of Buddhism, attraction, aversion and not-seeing? The usual answer in tantric contexts such as this is “all the above… and more.”

FIGURE 71. Milarepa, singing. In his left hand is a skullcup of amṛita. Tibetan print. [Crowley]

Marpa’s main teacher, however, was the great Indian scholar and yogin Nāropa who conferred upon him the initiation of Hevajra and taught him his celebrated “Six Yogas.” Early in Milarepa’s training with Marpa, his solitary meditation retreat was interrupted in order that he could be initiated in an abhiṣeka ceremony. As leaving a meditation retreat early is most unusual, Milarepa could not believe it and assumed it was merely a trick to test his dedication. Marpa’s wife, Dagmema, succeeded in persuading Mila only after repeatedly assuring him that the interruption was permitted, nay, demanded by Marpa.

While Mila was mistaken in assuming it was a test, he was partially correct since retreats are simply not interrupted. So why was he asked to break his retreat? One plausible answer may be that Marpa had just received supplies of amṛita from India and wanted to conduct an initiation while the drug was still fresh. We are told few details of the initiation other than:

•it was into the maṇḍala of Cakrasaṃvara

•Mila drank an entire skullcup of amṛita, and that

•“the ḍākinīs gave him the name Laughing Vajra.”

Mila had never been initiated before. Perhaps he was unfamiliar with the appropriate protocol or maybe Marpa wanted to make sure he had an effective dose. Whatever the reason, the quantity of amṛita Mila drank must have been considered excessive, otherwise the fact that he drank a whole skullcup would have passed without comment.

Secret names that include the word vajra are not infrequently given in initiations, though how “the ḍākinīs” conferred this name is not made clear. It is, however, worthy of note that psychedelics often cause immoderate laughter, especially in the case of first-time “initiates.” The name may be unrelated to Mila’s behavior, as the tantra of Cakrasaṃvara (the subject of his initiation) has chapters entitled “The Procedure of Vision and Loud Laughter” and “The Procedure of the Laughter Mantra and the Magic of the Yoginī’si Forms.”²⁴¹ On the other hand, we shall see that the goddesses known as yoginīs (or ḍākinīs) are closely related to psychedelic plants and are often considered identical to both their outward form and to their mental effects.j

Later in life, of course, Milarepa earned renown as a master in his own right and had his own disciples. Milarepa’s biography states that, like Padmasambhava, he had twenty-five foremost students. k

RECHUNGPA

Unlike Mila himself, his student Rechungpal had been to India, had studied at the feet of Indian gurus and had even brought previously unseen scriptures and practices back to Tibet. One of these new practices was a sādhana of Amitāyus, the long-life deity who holds a bowl of amṛita and rides a peacock.

We have already noted that the side effects of Amanita muscaria include copious flows of mucus and saliva. It is therefore intriguing to find that the Amitāyus sādhana of Rechungpa requires that the meditator visualize Amitāyus as orange in color, holding a begging bowl of amṛita. Then, as the meditator exhales, the amṛita in the begging bowl boils. When inhaling, amṛita “enters the nose as mucus and fills the whole body.” The meditator then “swallows saliva seven times.”²⁴²

FIGURE 72. Rechungpa wears a distinctive conical hat topped with a miniature victory banner. Note that his amṛita-filled skullcup also contains an amṛita flask. Behind him are scriptures. Tibetan print. [Chandra]

These specific physiological details regarding mucus and saliva suggest the presence of a cholinergic agonist such as A. muscaria. Given the context of the Amitāyus sādhana, they tend to confirm our earlier suspicions regarding Amitābha and Amitāyus as apotheoses of A. muscaria.

GAMPOPA

Gampopa (“the man from Gampo”) lived from 1079 to 1161. He was a learned physician who became a monk after the death of his beloved wife. He studied with many lamas and received many initiations but when he heard tell of a remarkable yogin called Milarepa, he felt compelled to seek out his remote mountain camp. He found Milarepa with a handful of followers and presented him with a gift of tea. Here is the passage as it occurs in the biography:

Then [Gampopa] brewed the tea and brought it to the Jetsun [“lord,” i.e. Milarepa], saying, “Please accept this offering, this symbol of my veneration for you.” Milarepa accepted it with delight. He said to Rechungpa [Mila’s closest student], “We should offer this monk some tea in return. Now go and collect a little from every Repa [yogin] here.”

Accordingly, Rechungpa [did so and] prepared the tea. Milarepa continued, “Now we need some seasoning.” Saying this, he made water [urinated] in the pot, making the tea extraordinarily delicious.

The Hundred Thousand Songs of Milarepa²⁴³

After Gampopa had consumed Milarepa’s urine in the tea, Milarepa initiated him into the practice of the red goddess Vajravārāhī (“Thunderbolt sow”) in the “maṇḍala painted in cinnabar.” Cinnabar is a deep red mercury ore used in various traditions of alchemy and in some Vajravārāhī initiations.

Although he had received other initiations from other gurus, Gampopa considered this one the most profound and meaningful of all. He remained with Mila for a while, studying the yoga of inner heat, and later founded the first monastery of the Kagyud (“oral transmission”) tradition. This brief, offhand mention of urinating in the tea, while apparently perplexing, offers some hints as to the identity of amṛita. Firstly, I find it difficult to believe that urine, no matter how enlightened the guru, would render tea “extraordinarily delicious.” I am informed by a modern fly agaric enthusiast that one’s urine, voided an hour or more after ingesting the mushroom, is delicious, extraordinarily so in fact.

As a yogin who had lived for years on a diet of nettle soup, we may be sure that Milarepa took scant interest in culinary matters. Thus, we may be certain that his intention when urinating in the tea was not to enhance its flavor. Neither do I see this as simply a test of Gampopa’s guru devotion. There is something else going on here, especially given the details about the goddess and the cinnabar. The significance of this red mineral will become apparent when we discuss Vajravārāhī in a later chapter.

TREASURE TEXTS

The tenth to eleventh centuries saw many Tibetans making pilgrimages to India, bringing back previously-unknown scriptures, practices and teachings. In turn, this led to the formation of several Sarma (“new”) schools, like the Kagyud, in Tibet. The original Buddhist practitioners, not to mention their monasteries and temples, now found themselves set apart from these Sarma schools and were called, by default, the Nyingma (“old”) school. The Nyingma, thus lacked Indian antecedents and turned to the “Indian” master Padmasambhava as ādi-guru of their lineage.

A peculiar characteristic of this Nyingma school is the reliance on terma. These are texts which are said to have been written by enlightened masters of an earlier era who hid them, often in caves and other topographic features, to be discovered centuries later when their message would be more appropriate. The best-known of these ancient authors are Padmasambhava and Yeshe Tsogyäl but others include King Trisong Detsen and even Rechungpa.²⁴⁴

They are written on scrolls of yellow paper in a strange “ḍākinī” alphabet that does, in fact, resemble some Indic scripts used in ancient central Asia. The terma were not actually “translated” as we understand the word. Rather, the terton who discovered such a text would contemplate this writing, enter a deep meditative state, receive inspiration, and write a Tibetan text upon emerging from that state. It should be noted that not all termas are texts; some are ritual objects and some are amṛita pills. It has been suggested that the rise of terma discoveries in the eleventh century came about as a direct response to the many new translations of Indian texts.²⁴⁵ In other words, these texts enabled the Nyingma to say, “We, too, have a genuine Indian guru (i.e. Padmasambhava). We, too, have authentic Indian texts.”

One of these termas has achieved a certain amount of fame in the West and that is the Bardo T’odöl (“liberation from the intermediate state by hearing”) or, as it is better known in English, The Tibetan Book of the Dead. It was this text thatTimothy Leary chose as a useful guide to the states of consciousness induced by LSD. This may have been an incredibly intuitive choice on Dr. Leary’s part as many termas are either about amṛita or have amṛita (albeit in Tibetan translation as dutsi) in their title. Indeed, there are many accounts of terma substances, also said to have been buried by Padmasambhava.²⁴⁶ The consumption of such sacred pills was said to confer (or, at least aid the attainment of) enlightenment.

In the realm of terma there are five text discoverers who stand out above the rest. These five “terton kings,” all of whom bear the title “Lingpa” include Karma Lingpa (born c.1350), the discoverer of the Bardo T’odöl and the cycle of teachings to which it belongs. Considering his prominence in the literature of death, it is curious that his own demise should involve strange tales of consciousness transference. Legend has it that, due to intrigue, Karma Lingpa was poisoned by an attendant. He then directed his consciousness into a passing bird and flew off in search of the antidote. By the time the bird returned, Karma Lingpa’s body was already on the funeral pyre. The evil attendant recognized the bird’s true nature and prevented it from delivering the “healing fruit” until Karma Lingpa’s body was consumed by flames.²⁴⁷

PEMA LINGPA

The modern kingdom of Bhutan is a sovereign nation but in former times it was considered part of Tibet. Its national language, Dzongkha, is a dialect of Tibetan and its religion is, for the most part, identical with the Buddhism of Tibet. It has the same monastic lineages and even has holy sites that are said to have been visited by Padmasambhava, Tibet’s tantric master par excellence.

Bhutan was also home to its very own “terton king,” Pema Lingpa (1450-1521).m Although his clan was rich in spiritual teachers, it was not well-endowed materially so he became apprenticed to a blacksmith. In passing we might note that there is a considerable body of research documenting the connections between shamanism and the blacksmith’s trade in many different cultures.²⁴⁸ Among the Yakut people of Siberia, for instance, the world’s first shaman was said to be the younger brother of the first smith and, when in trance, Yakut shamans wear clothes decorated with heavy chains and other iron objects made by a ninth-generation blacksmith.²⁴⁹ I do not intend to assert a shamanic background for Pema Lingpa based on this tenuous link, but I merely point out the possibility.

As a young man, Pema lived in a ruined shrine; one day, he went out into the forest to forage for mushrooms. Finding none, he dejectedly headed back to the ruined old temple. He had almost reached home when he came across a ragged old Khampan who asked why he looked so glum. Pema Lingpao told him of his hunger and his inability to find mushrooms. The Khampa then pointed to some growing at Pema’s feet, whereupon Pema gathered them and took the old man home with him for dinner, a mushroom and wheat flour curry. At some point Pema felt “unwell” and decided to lie on his bed for a while. During this time, Pema had an incredible “dream” in which the location of a hidden text was revealed. Thus began Pema Lingpa’s illustrious career as a text discoverer.

It is significant that Pema Lingpa’s autobiography, summarized here, is one of the few Tibetan texts that explicitly link mushrooms with visionary experience. Personally, it leaves me wondering how many other terma, especially the gongter or mind-treasures, were similarly discovered.p In this regard, it is worth mentioning that the terma tradition knows of five means of attaining enlightenment “without meditation.” These are:

1.liberation by seeing,

2.liberation by hearing,

3.liberation by tasting,

4.liberation by wearing [amulets], and

5.liberation by thinking.

The best-known example of these is the Bardo T’odöl (aka The Tibetan Book of the Dead) which offers “liberation from the intermediate state by hearing.” But note also that the possibility of enlightenment through “tasting” psychedelic substances (amṛita) is readily admitted in this tradition. This raises the possibility that the “intermediate state” might refer to not only the terma’s ostensible subject (i.e., the phenomena which appear during the voyage from death to rebirth) but also the experiences encountered while one is embarked upon a psychedelic journey. If so, Timothy Leary’s use of this book as a “trip guide”²⁵⁰ would seem uncannily inspired.

Traditionally, tertons are said to be reincarnations of Padmasambhava’s closest twenty-five disciples. After Pema Lingpa’s early success as a terton, a skeptic scoffed, “I suppose you’ll claim that you’re a reincarnation of one of Padmasambhava’s disciples now!” Pema Lingpa replied, “Not at all; I am a disciple of Padmasambhava. Who else was the old Khampa?”q Now, this statement is rather significant. To claim to be a disciple of Padmasambhava, Pema Lingpa must have received an initiation from him. Furthermore, we have seen that all initiations must include the consumption of some form of amṛita. And yet the only substance they ingested together was the curry. A mushroom curry.

______________

a The Sanskrit word dhyana (Eng., “meditation”) became the Chinese ch’an-na , later abbreviated to ch’an. This subsequently was borrowed by Japanese as zen and by Korean as sohn.

b His death occurred in 649 CE; estimates of his birth year vary from 569 to 605 CE.

c Orgyen (also spelled Urgyen) is usually identified with Oḍḍiyana. Some scholars locate this mysterious country in Bengal, but most identify it with the Swat valley of Pakistan, now distinct from modern India but well within the region of Indic culture at that time.

d The patriarchal attitudes which permit a wife to be treated as property were part of Tibetan culture of the period and do not reflect general Buddhist beliefs. Here, I merely present the history as recorded; the social norms of medieval Tibet being a topic well beyond the scope of this book.

e Many languages (e.g. English, French, Norwegian), have different forms for words which relate to a single entity (“singular”) and those which relate to more than one entity (“plural”). Thus, English says, “one chair is” but “two chairs are.” However, in some Indo-European languages (e.g. Sanskrit, Scottish Gaelic), only words relating to three or more entities are considered plural, with those words relating to precisely two entities having their own form, known as “dual.” The normal Tibetan language has only singular and plural but Tibetan scholars invented a special grammatical form to translate instances of the dual number from Sanskrit.

f Sakya means gray earth,” from the site of its main monastery. It is not to be confused with Śakya,” the clan-name of Gautama Siddhartha Buddha, “the Śakya sage.”

g “Inner heat” (Skt. caṇḍālī) is the name of a yoga equivalent to kuṇḍālinī-yoga in Hindu tantra.

h In a droll aside, Davidson (2005) deems this “a curious residential decision.”

i In this context, yoginī is a synonym for ḍākinī.

j See both the “Ḍākinīs” chapter and the appendix “Chu-len.”

k This apparent fondness for the number twenty-five may derive from the layout of some maṇḍalas in which each of the five “directions,” Center, East, South, West, and North, are subdivided into Center, East, etc. Sakya initiations are traditionally limited to twenty-five participants as this “fills the maṇḍala.”

l Rechungpa (Tib.) means “the little, or lesser, Repa,” the “great Repa” being Mila himself. Kagyudpa yogins who practice the yoga of tummo (inner heat) wear only a thin cotton robe, hence they a known as repa or “cotton-wearers.”

*Yogic transfer of consciousness is a common motif both in India (viz. White, D. G, 2011, chapter 1, passim) and Tibet (viz. biographies of Marpa and Padampa Sangye).

m Pema Lingpa is often abbreviated to Pe-Ling.

n Khampa: an inhabitant of Kham, eastern Tibet.

o We must refer to him by his terton name as his personal name remains unknown.

p Gongter are “treasures” which appear in visions.

q Remember that to pious Tibetan Buddhists, Padmasambhava is immortal (due to his use of amṛita) and at large in the world.

UNLIKELY FOOD

DUNG-EATING URINE-DRINKERS

NO MATTER WHAT “vehicle” of Buddhism one follows, there is an expression of basic ethical standards called the Five Precepts (Pali, pañca sila, pansil). Many, but not all, Buddhists make a formal vow that they will not kill, lie, steal, engage in inappropriate sex or take intoxicants.a Shockingly, however, Buddhist tantras of the mahāyoga class reverse these observances. For example, the important mahāyoga tantra known as Guhyasamāja (“the secret society”) states:

Those sentient beings who murder, who delight in deceit, who covet others’ wealth, who constantly have sex, and who consume dung and urine, they are worthy vessels for siddhi.

Guhyasamāja Tantra, V²⁵¹

As is well known, tantras often express themselves in veiled and coded language and I have no doubt that these were never meant to be taken literally.b Be that as it may, note that we are offered a set of five new vows, each one of the Five Precepts is replaced with its opposite (e.g., rather than “do not kill” we are told “commit murder”). Significantly, the counterpart to the fifth precept, “take no intoxicant,” is “consume dung and urine.” This strongly implies that the “dung and urine” being spoken of are psychoactive. Also, throughout the tantras, both Hindu and Buddhist, we find the adherents of that path referred to as “those who eat dung and drink urine” and, if we are to follow the tantric path, we are frequently enjoined to consume these vile substances…

The one whose goal is siddhi should perform [ritually] with excrement and urine as food. He would accomplish the supreme reality and immaculate mind of enlightenment.

Guhyasamāja Tantra, VI, xxi²⁵²

Another conjunction of siddhis with consuming dung and urine occurs in one of the “human sacrifice” rituals translated by Jacob Dalton. Dalton emphasizes that the texts claim “automatic” siddhis as a result of this diet and attributes this to the extremely transgressive nature of the act, considering the societal preoccupation with purity.²⁵³ I am afraid that he has entirely missed the point. The fact that “dung and urine” are used as examples of intoxicants should tell us that their “automatic” siddhi-inducing properties are due to pharmacology, not psychology. Given this, we must assume that these siddhis were mostly temporary. So, what is the secret identity of “excrement and urine?” A traditional commentary on the Guhyasamāja Tantra spills the beans:

“Excrement and urine” means the fivefold amṛita.

Pradipoddyotana²⁵⁴

That explains a lot, but the question remains: why were these foul excretions chosen as symbols for the amṛita sacrament? I believe that is easily explained.

As discussed earlier, the urine of one who has eaten the psychoactive fly agaric (Amanita muscaria) mushroom is not only psychoactive but may, in fact, be more potent than the original dose of mushroom. The reader will recall that urine-infused tea was used as the sacrament, the amṛita, for Gampopa’s initiation. We may assume that Milarepa had consumed some fly agarics prior to urinating in the tea, thus turning it into amṛita.

The possibility that Milarepa used his urine as the initiatory sacrament becomes far more plausible when considered alongside accounts of initiations in which urine was explicitly substituted for amṛita. There is for example, the case of Kyungpo Naljor (“garuda yogin.”), another yogin of pivotal importance in the dissemination of the tantric siddha schools in Tibet. He was a Tibetan master and contemporary of Milarepa, who brought teachings back from India and founded the Shangpa lineage of teachings. His guru was Niguma, the sister of Nāropa, thus his lineage is closely related to that of Marpa, Milarepa and Rechungpa. Like Gampopa, his initiation was conferred after drinking urine:

The siddha Kyungpo Naljor realized the nature of empowermentc

when the dakini Niguma poured a skullcup of secret water and pointed a finger at his heart…²⁵⁵

Rangdrol’s helpful commentary elucidates the term “secret water” as follows:

Probably she poured urine in the skullcup for him to drink.²⁵⁶

Another such initiation is described:

The siddha Orgyenpa realized the nature of empowerment when a yoginī in the form of a courtesan gave him a bowl of soup. There is also the story that the terton [“treasure text finder”] Guru Chowang placed a piece of excrement on the top of the head of the Nepalese man, Baro Vihardhara, and poured urine into his mouth. Through this, Baro remained in a state of “undefiled co-emergent wisdom for seven days and was liberated… Countless such stories abound…”²⁵⁷

Describing tantric practitioners as “eaters of dung and drinkers of urine” may well refer to their use of two mushroom sacraments: Psilocybe cubensis and fly agaric (Amanita muscaria). Ps. cubensis may have been considered consubstantial with the cow dung out of which it grows. Thus, those who consume this mushroom might be considered “eaters of dung.”

We met the sage (Skt. muni) Uttaṅka in an earlier chapter when he drank Kṛiṣṇa’s urine. In another episode in the Mahābhārata,²⁵⁸ he meets a giant astride an immense bull. The giant demands that he eat the bull’s excrement, just as Uttaṅka’s guru “had done in the past.” Uttaṅka not only ate the dung but drank the bull’s urine, too. Later in the story it is revealed that the episode was a magical illusion cast by Indra, king of the gods and “lord of soma” (Skt. Somapati). We are told that, in reality, the “giant” was the god himself, the “bull” was Indra’s mount (Skt. vāhana), the flying elephant Airavata,d and its “dung” was amṛita.

Note that Uttaṅka also drank the bull’s urine. This suggests the use of A. muscaria, a mushroom which, as we have seen, has a well-documented practice of urine-drinking in its Siberian tradition. Given that both of Uttaṅka’s appearances in the Mahābhārata are episodes of unwitting amṛita consumption, we might see him as a literary device (an Indic “Dr. Watson”) by which the nature of soma/amṛita may be stated obliquely, without being too explicit.

AUTHORITY AVERSION

Even some deities appear to drink urine. Tibetan texts mention a somewhat obscure wealth deity, a Buddhist version of the Hindu god Gaṇeśa, called “Authority-Averting Gaṇapati.” (Does he prevent traffic tickets and income tax audits?) In the original Hindu version, Gaṇeśa/Gaṇapati is Śiva’s son whom he beheaded in a fit of divine pique. Śiva’s filicidal behavior did not sit well with his wife, Parvatī (“mountain girl”), who insisted that he revive their child. Now Śiva had to find a replacement head but could only find an old red elephant with one tusk.²⁵⁹

FIGURE 73. Gaṇapati as a “parasol.” Japanese maṇḍala. Enhanced detail. [Chandra]

But there are no red elephants so, unless we are to believe in the literal truth of the myth, we must ask ourselves “What is the significance of a red head? And why does he have only one tusk?” Clark Heinrich, an ethnomycologist and an authority on Hindu mythology, interprets Gaṇeśa’s red head and single white tusk as a homologue of the fly agaric mushroom, with its red cap and white stem.²⁶⁰

FIGURE 74. Authority-Averting Gaṇapati. His monkey wife drinks “wish-granting gems” from his penis. Tibetan print. [Chandra]

But why an elephant? The usual explanation is that, just as elephants can remove heavy obstructions, Gaṇeśa is renowned as a remover of obstacles. There is another possibility, though. Poetically, elephants are often referred to as nāgas, probably due to their snake-like trunks. It is not beyond the bounds of possibility that Gaṇeśa’s elephantine head is an oblique reference to these serpentine, subterranean shapeshifters who are so often said to be involved in matters concerning psychoactive plants.

All Hindu deities ride a characteristic animal, known as their vāhana or vehicle. Despite Gaṇeśa’s jumbo size, his vehicle is a mouse.e The usual explanation is that whereas Gaṇeśa is renowned as a remover of obstacles, mice gnaw their way through obstacles that even elephants might find challenging. However, musa (“mouse”) also means “a pestle” (as in “pestle and mortar”), an implement used in grinding amṛita. This alternative reading of musa must have been valid for at least some of Gaṇeśa’s devotees as occasionally he does indeed hold a pestle.

Eventually, this elephant-headed god found his way into Vajrayāna Buddhism and evolved into various forms such as the (admittedly obscure) deity known as Authority-Averting Gaṇapati. His ritual evocation describes him as surrounded by treasure vases and accompanied by “his wife” (who happens to be a monkey).f She drinks a “stream of wish-granting gems” from his penis which also fills the treasure vases.²⁶¹ Given the widespread use of sexual symbolism and imagery in tantric scriptures, this could be construed as a euphemism for fellatio. But tantric artists are not prudish about such things and a graphic representation of this deity shows quite clearly that Gaṇapati’s penis is flaccid and that his monkey wife appears to be drinking from it, just as the text describes

Furthermore, this Gaṇapati is white, standing on a red diskg (echoing the red and white coloration of the fly agaric mushroom). In his two upper hands, he brandishes a jar of liquor and a “wish-granting gem” (Skt. cintāṃaṇi).²⁶² The juxtaposition of the “gem” with an intoxicant such as the liquor adds further weight to a psychoactive interpretation of the cintāṃaṇi.

FIGURE 75. The Buddhist god Soma holds a wish-granting gem. Mongolian print, detail. [Chandra] (pg. 215)

WISH-GRANTING FOOD

So, what, exactly, is a wish-granting gem? The cintāṃaṇi is spoken of in Indian folktales and, like Aladdin’s magic lamp, when held between the hands it will grant any wish. The desired object will then fall out of the sky before one. In this regard, it is perhaps of significance that a cintāṃaṇi is said to have been one of the items in the casket which fell onto King Totori’s roof.

FIGURE 76. Six-armed Cintāṃaṇi Avalokiteśvara holds a flaming wish-granting gem to his heart with his second right hand and raises a “wheel” aloft with his third left hand. When painted in color, the wheel is red. Japanese drawing. [Chandra]

Attentive readers will recall the wish-granting cow, Kamadhenu, who was created at the churning of the ocean. Despite her name (Kama-dhenu literally means “desire-milk”), she provides no milk at all. Rather, the desire-milk spoken of is the wish-granting amṛita which flows from her udder. Thus, in addition to the exoteric, fairy tale version of the legendary gem, there appears to be an ancient, esoteric link between “wish-granting” and amṛita. Indeed, it is not uncommon for amṛita to be spoken of poetically as “wish-fulfilling amṛita.”²⁶³ This phraseology may have come about through any number of means. Perhaps because one who is enjoying the experience of amṛita has only to imagine an object and it appears, vividly, before their mind’s eye. Or, even more likely, because it places enlightenment within reach. Thus, one who possesses the desire for enlightenment (Skt. bodhicitta) will be able to attain their goal with ease.

In this regard, we should consider the Buddhist version of the Vedic god, Soma. Rather than a vase of soma or a flask of medicine, he holds a wish-granting gem as his sole attribute.

In Tibetan art, the wish-granting gem is shown either as a sphere, rather like a pearl, or as a group of six flaming gems. Although Authority-Averting Gaṇapati holds such a gem in his upper right hand, other references to wish-granting gems make them sound as though they are liquid. For instance, Gaṇapati’s wife “drinks a stream” of them and jars of them “overflow.”

Anyone who has come across fly agaric mushrooms in the wild would not be surprised to hear them referred to as gems. A newly-grown fly agaric is a brilliant, glistening fire engine red, like a jewel blazing in the undergrowth. In this instance, however, we must also consider the possibility that “a stream of wish-granting gems” might also mean “a stream of drug-infused urine.” This symbolic equivalence of urine and “wish-granting gems” is a key element in unlocking the symbolism of this sādhana. It is hardly surprising that such magic gems are a recurrent theme among “wealth” deities but why should they occur so often as liquid “streams?”

FIGURE 77. Rāgarāja arises from a “vase of cintāṃaṇis.” Japanese drawing. [Chandra]

The sādhana of wealth deity White Mahākāla, for example, describes him bouncing up and down on the prone figure of Gaṇeśa (aka Gaṇapati). As Gaṇeśa is crushed in this manner, streams of “wish-granting gems” flow from every orifice of his body. This brings to mind the wealth deity Kubera (aka Vaiśravana) who holds a mongoose (Skt. nakula) which vomits wish-granting gems when squeezed. Could both these icons, like Gaṇeśa’s pestle, allude to the process of crushing the soma plant to make amṛita?

A Buddhist deity, a bodhisattva, called Rāgarāja has close ties to the cintāṃaṇi. In Japan, the Shingon school (a Vajrayāna tradition) holds the bai-raga-ho ceremony in his honor. The second part of that name, raga, is obviously an abbreviation for Rāgarāja but it is the first element which is most relevant here. It is said that the syllable bai esoterically represents the cintāṃaṇi.²⁶⁴ It is hard to doubt this statement given the abundance of cintāṃaṇis in his iconography. Often he is described as sitting upon a vase from which cintāṃaṇis flow (e.g. Figure 77); these “gems” frequently being spoken of as if they are liquid.

One of the most curious features of his iconography is the object which his six-armed form holds in his second left hand. It is called simply “that” (Chin., pi). Lokesh Chandra offers this elucidation:

‘That’ is an object whose choice is left to the faithful: a jewel, human body, a piece of human flesh, sac [sic],h etc.; generally it is a jewel. ‘That’ was a mysterious formulation and indicates something tabooed.

Dict. of Buddhist Iconography²⁶⁵

I leave it to you to decide the identity of that “tabooed” object which is “generally… a jewel.”

Up to now, we have seen the symbolic use of bows and arrows as an allusion to the Vedic god Rudra, a forerunner of Śiva who was also known as Śarva (“`the archer”). However, the vertically-aimed arrow of Figure 77 raises another possibility: that the bow and arrow together form a crude semblance of a mushroom, with the arrow as stem and bow as cap.i This would certainly account for the widespread use of bows and arrows in Vajrayāna iconography.

Another bodhisattva with a bow is the “four-armed” variant of Mañjuśrī. This well-known Buddhist deity is the embodiment of prajña—profound insight into the actual, nondual nature of reality. In his more familiar two-armed form, he carries a flaming sword and a book. In an early chapter we noted that, occasionally, the book is replaced by a blue lotus, but the sword may also undergo substitution. In Chinese Buddhist art, and in art that is derived from China, the sword may be replaced by a “mushroom-topped scepter” (Chin., ru yi).²⁶⁶ This scepter, often carried by Buddhist lineage-holders such as Ch’an (Zen) masters, is modeled on Ganoderma lucidum, better known by its Japanese name, the reishi mushroom. But “reishi” is merely the Japanese way of saying the Chinese lin chi.j The first part of this term, lin, has a range of meaning from divine, spiritual, and miraculous to efficacious or effective. The second syllable, chi, has no direct English equivalent.

While it is often translated simply as “mushroom,” chi carries overtones of supernatural properties. I feel, therefore, that it is not stretching a point too far to call this fungus a “magic mushroom.” Although current Chinese tradition applies this term to Ganoderma lucidum, it is likely that it originally referred to another species altogether.

Something with this name of chi was recorded as being a ritual food item eaten by emperors in the Book of Rites, a compilation of court rituals of the Zhou dynasty (1046-256 BCE).k But the first mention of the miraculous lin chi is in the annals of the “first emperor” Shi-huang in the Ch’in dynasty (regnant 220-210 BCE). The great Han historian, Ssu-ma Ch’ien (145-87 BCE), tells of the many expeditions that emperor Shi-huang sent to find this wondrous plant but it was all to no avail; the identity of the fungus was to remain a mystery for another century.

FIGURE 78. Amṛita-phalā stands on one leg, holding a bowl of “amṛita-fruit.” Tibetan print. [Chandra]

After a devastating defeat by the Hsiong Nu tribes of the west, the Han emperor Wu (regnant 141-87 BCE) was in dire need of a propaganda boost. So, when a strangely-shaped, lustrous fungus (G. lucidum, see Plate 14) was discovered growing from unseasoned wood used in repairing his palace, emperor Wu seized the opportunity to declare it the long sought-after lin chi.

As one might expect, its near-miraculous appearance within the imperial abode was declared to be the greatest of auspicious signs. Thus, by this historical act of political opportunism, the identity of a quasi-mythical fungus became forever fixed on an interesting, yet hardly magical, species. And yet, despite the misleading use of G. lucidum in its design, the ru-yi scepter provides us with an insight into the hidden meaning of the wish-granting gem.

The Sanskrit word cintāṃaṇi is translated into formal Chinese as ru yi zhu (“the as-one-wishes jewel”) but the more usual term is the abbreviation ru yi, the very name of the mushroom-scepter.l There is no question that this scepter is intended to represent a stylized lin chi mushroom but, as we have seen, the identification of lin chi with Ganoderma lucidum was quite arbitrary. Ssu-ma Ch’ien gives accounts of several ancient maritime expeditions which set off to find lin chi in distant lands. Thus, we may conclude that, not only was lin chi not G. lucidum, but this “magic mushroom” was unknown in China. Wasson has suggested that these ancient accounts of a miraculous mushroom (lin chi) were the result of Chinese scholars hearing travelers’ tales from those who had voyaged to India by sea.²⁶⁷Alternatively, there may be an even more ancient overland connection with soma’s possible precursors in the BMAC culture of the Oxus Valley.

FIGURE 79. A wish-granting gem sits upon Padmasambhava’s skullcup of amṛita. Tibetan print. [Chandra]

Over the course of centuries many expeditions within China and beyond failed to locate the fabled fungus and, by the time precise knowledge of psychoactive mushrooms arrived with tantric Buddhism, the lin chi title had already been applied to the medicinal, though not psychoactive, species G. lucidum. Thus, despite its inactivity, G. lucidum became the iconic representation of a mythical mushroom based on tales of a real, psychoactive species. But when the arrival of Vajrayāna Buddhism brought knowledge of the fungal source of amṛita, someone must have put two and two together and realized that this was the actual lin chi of legend. Thus, the ru yi scepter, in addition to being a stylized form of G. lucidum, is simultaneously a “wish-granting gem” (Skt. cintāṃaṇi). Even though the specific identity of the lin chi mushroom is unknown, the intended correspondence of the wish-granting gem with some species of mushroom is incontrovertible.

This leaves us pondering the significance of the ru yi in the hands of Mañjuśrī. Is it intended to be seen as equivalent, in some sense, to his usual flaming sword and book? Might that flaming sword represent a “flaming” mushroom such as fly agaric? Might the “book” mean Psilocybe cubensis?

EDIBLE GEMS

With the thumb and ring finger, place the wish-granting jewel in the mouth, and attain the everlasting spiritual attainment arisen from the nature of the nectar.

Māhāmāyā Tantra, 2.20

This verse from a brief yet important Buddhist tantra indicates both the edible nature of the cintāṃaṇi wish-granting gem and its equivalence to “nectar” (amṛita).

Taken at face-value, a wish-granting gem is a precious mineral, which when held, will provide one with whatever is wished for, rather like Aladdin’s celebrated lamp. But there are various sources which speak of this “gem” as though it is edible. Take for instance, the goddess named Cintāṃaṇi-Tārā. As one might expect, her iconography features the cintāṃaṇi but, in this case, the “gem” is edible. She is described as standing next to a “cintāṃaṇi tree” holding a “cintāṃaṇi fruit.” I cannot help wondering if this “fruit” might not be identical to the amṛita-fruit (Skt. amṛita-phala) held by a minor Vajrayana goddess called, appropriately, Amṛita-phalā (literally, “amṛita-fruit”). This juxtaposition of tree and amṛita-fruit brings to mind the vital connection between Amanita muscaria and its host tree.

FIGURE 80. Cintāṃaṇi-Tārā holds a “wish-granting fruit” in her right hand. Tibetan print. [Chandra]

Whether this tree is intended to be Parijata is unclear. As already noted, Parijata is the wish-granting tree said to have been created along with amṛita, at the churning of the ocean and is the tree seen in icons of Amitāyus, growing out of his bowl of amṛita.

Also, given our earlier musings on wheels as mushroom symbols, it may be significant that there is such a thing as a “wish-granting wheel.” At least, that is what we must assume from a variant of the long-life goddess White Tārā who goes by the name Wish-Granting-Wheel White Tārā.²⁶⁸

______________

a The last vow differs widely depending on cultural context. In the Theravada it is often phrased as “drugs which cloud the mind.” The Tibetan vow simply says chang (“beer”).

b For example, “murder” might be a yogin’s psychological act of “killing” attachment to their own idea of selfhood.

c Empowerment – the tantric initiation ceremony.

d As Indra is a storm god, it is possible to see his flying elephant as a metaphor for the storm clouds that bring the monsoon rain. In India, mushrooms generally appear only after this rain. Also, elephants not only love water but are fond of spraying it from their trunks just as storm clouds “spray” water on the earth below.

e Although it is customary to call Gaṇeśa’s vehicle a “mouse,” it is technically the greater bandicoot rat, Bandicota indica.

f See appendix The Five Great Meats for an attempted explanation of the equivalence of elephants and monkeys.

g This horizontal red disk upon which Vajrayāna deities stand or sit is known as a “sun disk.” The complementary “moon disk” is white.

h By perusal of the relevant images, I believe “sack” was intended.

i It is also worthy of note that the complete image of Rāgarāja shown in Figure 77 has many flaming cintāṃaṇis scattered about the foreground.

j Lin chi,

k Book of Rites: li chi, .

l Ru yi zhu: ; ru yi:.

GODDESSES AND THEIR TREES

TĀRĀ’S WISH-GRANTING TREE

WE HAVE SEEN THAT the roots of some tree species are essential for the existence of mycorrhizal fungi such as the fly agaric mushroom (Amanita muscaria). This may well account for Siberian tree goddesses and also for the tree goddess who provides the “delicious food” in the story of Āryadeva (aka Karṇaripa). Quite apart from any fungal associations, there are tree species that are psychedelic in their own right and some of them have goddesses associated with them.

As mentioned earlier, one of the most popular Mahāyāna deities is the female bodhisattva called Tārā. Her name is assumed to be the feminine form of the Sanskrit tāra, literally “the star.” Buddhist lexicographers tend to disagree with that etymology and construe her name as deriving from the Sanskrit root √tṛi meaning “to carry across.” Hence, we are told that her name implies “she who ferries one across the raging sea of saṃsara,” or to put it more simply, “savioress.” However, the goal of etymology in India and Tibet was to creatively reveal hidden meanings by wordplay rather than to discover accurate word histories. It is worth noting that a goddess called Tārā is also known in Hinduism and even in Jainism, thus suggesting quite an ancient (perhaps even pre-Āryan) origin.

In Tibet, most Buddhist families begin the day with a recitation of a hymn called the Praise of Tārā in Twenty-one Verses. Despite being an integral part of Tibetan Buddhist practice, these verses clearly originated as a Hindu text.²⁶⁹ The hymn is replete with references that are unintelligible from a purely Buddhist viewpoint: Mt. Mandara (the churning-stick in the Hindu myth of the Churning of the Ocean), Kailaśa (Śiva’s mountain paradise), allusions to the myth of Śiva’s incineration of Kama (the Hindu god of love) with a glance, and explicit mentions of the gods Śiva, Brahma and Indra.

FIGURE 81. Blossoming, jewel-bedecked, and cintāṃaṇi-topped—two divine trees in Amitābha’s pure land. Japanese drawing, detail. [Chandra]

The most revealing evidence of The Praise of Tārā’s non-Buddhist origins is to be found in its twelfth verse. A Hindu myth describes the River Ganges as flowing from Śiva’s hair. Accordingly, verse twelve speaks of the “crescent moon” in Amitābha’s “matted locks.” Prof. Wayman interprets this as a clear reference to Śiva and thus he sees the original participants in the verse as being the River Ganges and Śiva rather than Tārā and Amitābha.²⁷⁰ Of course, this is not the explanation offered by Buddhist sources that see The Praise of Tārā as being part of the Tārā tantra. There is another tradition, however, which maintains that a ninth century leper by the name of Sūryagupta was cured of his leprosy after he had a vision of Tārā. He then composed a liturgy praising twenty-one different goddesses. All of these goddesses were the focus of their own cults, so hymns to each of them, individually, are not uncommon. What was unusual about Sūryagupta’s liturgy was that he addressed all the twenty-one goddesses as aspects of a single goddess, Tārā.

TĀRĀ AND ISHTAR

The provenance of Tārā, and whether she was originally Buddhist or Hindu, is the subject of debate. My own guess is that she is older than either religion and was adopted (and adapted) by both. I deem it quite possible that her origins are to be found in the Sumerian goddess Ishtar. In her role as “the star” in Hindu mythology and astrology, she is the personification of the planet Venus, just as Ishtar (also meaning “the star”) was in Sumeria. Also, both goddesses are associated with the acacia tree. So, if Tārā is an Indian importation of a Sumerian goddess, how could this have come about?

It has been suggested that the great Indus Valley cities such as Mohenjodaro and Harappa were modeled on Sumerian originals. They have many similarities in construction but the Indus Valley cities are laid out in a much more systematic fashion, suggesting that their builders were attempting to improve on their Sumerian counterparts.a There has even been an attempt to link the Sumerian language with the non-Āryan, Dravidian languages of India in a proposed “Elamo-Dravidian” language group, although this has not been generally accepted among linguists.

Even in the absence of any ethnic or linguistic connections, it is known that there were trade connections as Harappan beads have been found in Mesopotamia. Merchants traveling between Mesopotamia and India may well have relied upon Ishtar/Tārā (i.e. “the stars”) for navigation and perhaps called upon her to save them from storms at sea, just as Buddhist travelers such as Tārānātha did in much later times. This could then also provide a basis for the secondary meaning of “Tārā” as “the one who ferries us across” and would account for the popularity of Tārā among mariners and seafarers.

TĀRĀ OF THE ACACIA GROVE

As with many popular deities, Tārā appears in various forms, each of which is distinguished from the others by some detail of iconography. For instance, the well-known and popular Green or Noble Tārā (Skt. Syama Tārā, Āryā Tārā) may be recognized by the following characteristics: She is green in color, she sits with the left leg drawn up as in a meditation posture but with the right leg extended, the right foot often supported by a lotus. She wears the silk robes and jeweled ornaments of a peaceful bodhisattva, has one face with two eyes and is smiling. Her right hand makes the varada-mudra (“boon-granting gesture”) while her left holds the stem of an utpala (night-blooming lotus, Nymphaea stellata) the bloom of which is level with her left ear.

FIGURE 82. Acacia catechu. Botanical drawing. [Public domain]

There are other forms of the deity who closely resemble Āryā Tārā but who, in addition to the above attributes, carry a second utpala lotus in the right hand. One of these is Khadiravaṇī Tārā or “Tārā of the acacia grove” (see Plate 7). Another of her distinguishing features is that she is usually accompanied by two attendant goddesses: Aśokakāntā-Mārīcī and Ekajatā.

This name, Khadiravaṇī, is rather mysterious though. In India, the acacia tree is sacred to Tārā, just as in Mesopotamia Ishtar was worshiped in acacia groves. When I asked a learned Tibetan lama why the khadira tree is associated with Tārā, he told me that it is because these trees grow in her paradise. As I remain unconvinced of the physical existence of Tārā’s paradise, I was less than satisfied by this response. For one thing, there are many popular bodhisattvas but only a very few, like Tārā, are associated with a particular species of tree. Why so?

Mallar Ghosh has suggested that Khadiravana was the name of an actual location in Bengal; though she admits that this is speculative as no such place name is to be found, either in modern times or in the historical record. A more plausible suggestion from Dr. Ghosh is that the name is corruption of khadiravarṇa (“acacia-colored”)²⁷¹ which would thus derive the color of Green Tārā from her association with the acacia tree. The existence of a form of Tārā called Kanaka-varṇa (“Gold-colored”) lends plausibility to this suggestion.²⁷² Some credence must be given to such alternative interpretations of the name, as Sanskrit for “grove” is, correctly, vana, not vaṇa. The literal translation of Khadiravaṇī is “Lady of the acacia-sounds” (from Sanskrit vaṇa, “sound”) but this interpretation leaves us wondering what an “acacia-sound” might be.b What is beyond dispute, however, is that the first element in her name is khadira. So, the question arises once more, why the khadira and not some other tree? Perhaps we may find a clue in the frequent occurrence of amṛita and other magical potions in the legends associated with Tārā. As for instance in these passages:

The Achāryāc entered the village, and since he prayed to Tārā, a great rainfall of amṛita descended from the sky, which cured the dying of their affliction.

The Golden Rosary of Tārā²⁷³

and

An elixir fell from the sky like a stream of milk. Once [a certain monk] drank of this, his body became free of old age. He lived for some three hundred years, and it is said that during this entire period he appeared to remain at the age of sixty. d

Ibid.²⁷⁴

Note that:

•the nectar is said to be “like a stream of milk,” as in the Vedic descriptions of soma,

•the word for “elixir” in this Tibetan text is chu (“sap” or “juice”), which is the literal meaning of soma (although not the usual Tibetan translation), and

•its effect was to halt the aging process and delay death, effects that are commonly attributed to amṛita (literally, “deathless”).

In modern Indian usage, khadira is the common name of Acacia catechu (Tib. sengden) but we should not assume that the ancients identified plant species in exactly the same way as we do today. Monier-Williams, for instance, states that the name khadira has also been used to mean A. nilotica and Mimosa pudica (Tib. sa-mamga), both of which are related to A. catechu. All three species are known to contain the psychedelic compound n, n, dimethyltryptamine (DMT), which is also found in a closely-related species known as “white khadira” (A. arabica).²⁷⁵ It may well be that the designation “khadira” was applied to several related species because of their DMT content.

K. Trout in his Notes on Acacias, remarks upon the considerable confusion over the many species of this family, even among modern taxonomists.²⁷⁶ For example, A. catechu is sometimes called A. nilotica and A. nilotica has been known as Mimosa nilotica. Also, a nineteenth century compendium of India’s resources gives this latter as the source of “gum catechu” which would suggest that this is actually the tree we know as A. catechu.²⁷⁷ Curiously, an acacia is mentioned in connection with a Buddha: just as Gautama Siddhartha became enlightened beneath a pipal tree, (Ficus religiosa) Krakucchanda (the first Buddha of our aeon) is associated with the śirissa tree (A. sirissa).²⁷⁸

We have already encountered the word chattraka (“parasol-like” or “mushroom-like”) as “a mushroom-shaped temple of Śiva” but Monier-Williams’ Sanskrit-English Dictionary also states that it is a plant similar to Acacia arabica. One is tempted to suspect that it is called chattra-like because it has effects similar to psychedelic mushrooms but, of course, it could just be an acacia which resembles a parasol in shape.

I have found no myths or legends that might suggest that khadira was ever considered psychoactive but various names given to it (e.g. soma-essence, soma-tree, soma-bark) indicate that its entheogenic use was indeed known at one time. Indeed, the term “soma-bark” (Skt. somavalka) implies that soma, or at least something resembling soma, was associated with this part of the tree. The fact that the bark is where the highest concentration of DMT is to be found indicates that whoever coined this term had precise knowledge of the plant’s pharmacological properties.

INDO-HUASCA

Although pure DMT is potently active when smoked or insufflated, it normally has no effect when eaten. This is due to an intestinal enzyme called monoamine-oxidase (MAO) which renders it inactive. There are, however, many plants that inhibit the action of MAO. Such MAO-inhibitors (MAOI) are not uncommon; they occur in many plants (e.g. passion fruit) and also in tobacco smoke, but they are seldom found in any significant amounts. The South American yage vine, Banisteriopsis caapi, is a celebrated exception but the most concentrated source yet discovered is the seeds of Syrian rue (Peganum harmala) a plant found throughout the arid regions of the Middle East and India. This plant has exceptional proportions of MAO-inhibiting β-carboline alkaloids (e.g. harmine, harmaline, and tetrahydroharmine).e

Thus, if we accept that the names such as soma-bark and the like do indeed relate to the entheogenic use of A. arabica’s psychedelic bark, then this would imply the use of an MAOI to create a binary entheogen analogous to the Amazonian ayahuasca, which is usually a concoction of Psychotria viridis leaves (as a source of DMT) and Banisteriopsis caapi (as the MAOI).

Among the many compound words which contain “soma” is soma-vallari or “soma-creeper.” The word vallari is cognate with vallabha, “beloved,” presumably because a vine or creeper embraces its support. What is notable about soma-vallari is that it is the common or garden rue (Ruta graveolens), which is a bushy shrub and not a creeper at all. The two “rues” (common rue and Syrian rue) look very similar but are not in fact related. Also, while Syrian rue is itself both psychoactive and potentiates DMT, common rue is not and does not. In ancient Greece and Rome, common rue was believed to be the domesticated variety of Syrian rue. Pliny mentions that the plant which some call Ruta is called Peganum by others, and vice versa. It is quite possible, therefore, that the confusion over these two species was not confined to ancient Europe. The superficial similarities between the species may have led Indian writers to use the term soma-vallari for both Ruta graveolens and Peganum harmala.

One especially interesting synonym for khadira is somasara (“soma-essence” or “soma-power”); which implies that if this ingredient were omitted, the soma concoction would lose its power, that is, its entheogenic effect. This is precisely what we would expect to find in such a DMT + MAOI combination. Moreover, many of the Vedic hymns to soma refer to mixing liquids, for instance:

The floods of the high one, the truly awesome one, flow together. The juices of him so full of juice mingle together as you, the tawny one, purify yourself with prayer. O drop of Soma, flow for Indra.

Ṛig Veda, 9.113.514²⁷⁹

The Vedic god Soma is both the divine potion, source of the gods’ immortality, and he is also the moon. There is an Indian legend in which Soma (the moon) eloped with Tārā (the planet Venus), impregnated Tārā, who gave birth to Budha (the planet Mercury),f which was the casus belli for the “Tārāka War” between the planetary gods.

Could this strange legend be a poetic allusion to the entheogenic use of a concoction which contained khadira (represented by Tārā) and some MAO inhibiting plant (here represented by the god Soma)? A hint that this legend might involve soma the drug, rather than merely Soma the moon god, may also be provided by the Sanskrit name for the planet Venus.

Just as Soma is the name of the moon god while candra is the moon itself, Tārā is the name of the planetary goddess, the planet Venus itself being called sukra. The word sukra (literally, “clear” or “pure”) is one of the Vedic synonyms for soma. Thus, while the moon is the heavenly body that is synonymous with soma, the planet Venus may not be unrelated. It may be worth noting in this regard that of all the “planets,” only the moon, Venus, and Mercury exhibit periodic phases. The phases of the moon are obvious, but a keen eye may sometimes detect the phases of Venus.g If the phases of Venus were observed by ancient Indian sages, they may have attributed them to the same cause as the phases of the moon (i.e. the depletion of the soma contained therein).

Flattery and Schwartz have suggested that soma was a decoction of Syrian rue (Peganum harmala, a potent MAOI). Though mildly psychoactive, it is unlikely that this plant alone could elicit the ecstatic effects described in the Ṛig Veda. However, a certain Dr. Watt is quoted by Hillebrandt in his classic work, Vedic Mythology, as having this to say about soma and the Iranian haoma (which he calls “Homa”):

…the Homa may after all prove to be the Soma of the ancients. If this be accepted, the dry and bitter twigs having, as at the present day with the Homa,²⁸⁰

In the very next paragraph Hillebrandt continues:

Long before this time Lagarde, in his Gesammelte Abhandlungen, pp. 172-176, made a distinction between the Soma of the Indians and that of the Iranians; he saw in the oldest Soma plant a kind of rue, in fact that which is called sahasrapajas in the RV [Ṛig Veda]. It corresponds, he said, to peganon of the Greeks, called moly in Cappadocia…²⁸¹

Considering that khadira bark is a traditional flavoring for Indian drinks, if the poet-sages of the Vedic period had used a soma which was a decoction of P. harmala (Hillebrandt’s “peganon of the Greeks”) they may have flavored it with acacia bark. If so, they would have stumbled upon a very potent combination indeed. But why else would khadira be called soma-bark?

FIGURE 83. Maitreya, the future Buddha, holds a serpent-flower and a flask of medicine. [Chandra]

This combination of two plants, one containing DMT and the other offering MAO inhibition, is consumed in Peru and other parts of South America, going by such names as yage and ayahuasca. Such a DMT+MAOI combination is not, however, unknown in Asia. It has been brought to my attention that, in Iran and Afghanistan, initiates of the Naqshbandi order of Sufis (Muslim mystics) use a sacramental concoction of Arundo donax root-bark (containing DMT) and P. harmala (rich in MAO inhibiting β-carbolines).²⁸² The stems of A. donax (commonly known as “giant reed”) are also widely used in the Middle East in the manufacture of the end-blown flute known as the nay (literally, A. donax in Persian). The Naqshbandi tradition has many songs and poems which extol this flute’s ability to transport the listener to other realms. The fact that the word for flute is also the name of the plant from which it is made, permits these songs to be loaded with double meanings that reflect the reed’s use as both flute and sacrament. Traditionally, a concoction is brewed of the root bark of the reed along with P. harmala as the MAOI. The use of this entheogenic potion is shrouded in secrecy, however, and is restricted to the higher echelons of the sect.

Afghanistan was once part of the Buddhist kingdom of Gandhara. What is more, the valley of Swat (once part of Gandhara) is the most likely location of the fabled Oḍḍiyāna, supposed origin of the tantras, land of the enlightened ḍākinīs and home of the guru Padmasambhava.

Although apprehensive about indulging in speculation so far from my chosen field, I am reminded that the Sumerian hero Gilgamesh was offered the plant of immortality, “the secret of the Gods.” It was a spiny plant which pierced his palm with its thorn (an acacia, perhaps?) and yet it is also said to be a water plant (a reed?). Are there any spiny plants that grow underwater? I know of none. However, it is known that our version of the Epic of Gilgamesh is a fairly late, abbreviated redaction with many lacunae. Could it be that these two plants, acacia and giant reed have been conflated? And what of the snake who steals the sacred plant from Gilgamesh? Is this yet another snake entheogen complex?

Before leaving the topic of ayahuasca-like concoctions, we might also consider yet another tree, known in Sanskrit as nāgapuṣpa (serpent-flower), and often identified as Couroupita guianensis. As its leaves are used in the Peruvian rainforest as an admixture (called ayahuma) to ayahuasca,²⁸³ I had initially suspected that it could have been used in a similar fashion in India and Southeast Asia. However, this proved impossible as it is native to South America and was introduced to Asia by the British only in the nineteenth century. Nevertheless, since that time it has been planted at both Buddhist and Hindu religious sites in the belief that it is a specific tree mentioned in their respective scriptures. At Śaiva temples it is called nāgaliṅgaṃ since its flowers are said to resemble the hood of a nāga protecting a Śiva-liṅgaṃ. It is also planted at Buddhist sites due to its confusion with the śala tree, the tree Queen Mahāmaya held on to while giving birth to Gautama Siddhartha, the child who would later become the Buddha. The traditional iconographic representation of this birth scene closely resembles a common Indian architectural feature called a śalabhanjika,h a supporting column that depicts a yakṣa maiden (yakṣī or yakṣinī) grasping the branch of a śala tree.i Depictions of Mahāmaya giving birth differ from the stereotypical śalabhanjika in that they lack the sexual pose in which the yakṣī wraps her left leg suggestively around the tree’s trunk. But we shall encounter this exact posture again in the following chapter when we explore the symbolism of ḍākinīs.

FIGURE 84. A śalabhanjika. Barhut stupa, India. [Wiki]

AŚOKAKĀNTĀ-MĀRĪCĪ

As stated above, Khadiravaṇī Tārā (“Tārā of the acacia grove”) is accompanied by the female bodhisattvas Aśokakāntā-Mārīcī and Ekajatā (aka Ekajatī). Botanically, the aśoka (aka “asoka”) is Saraca asoca (syn. Saraca confusa; Jonesia asoca) and is the very tree that yakṣinīs grasp in the śalabhanjika. Perhaps because of this, it is yet another species conflated with the śala tree in Indian folk traditions. The name Aśokakāntā literally means “Beautiful Asoka” but one cannot help wondering why the beauty of this tree was so great that it had to be included in its name. Could this kānta (“beauty”) be another example of Sanskrit wordplay, a punning allusion to kāṇḍa (“stem,” “branch”)?

FIGURE 85. Rakta-Avalokiteśvara (here, incorrectly depicted as female) with bow and arrow beneath an asoka tree. Nepali drawing. [Chandra]

The asoka tree produces masses of brilliant red blossoms even before its leaves appear, so it is quite possible that the asoka’s symbolism may simply be the color red, rather than any property of the tree itself. It may be significant that in the kāya-maṇḍala of the Buddhist deity Kālacakra, Mārīcī is paired with Nīladaṇḍa (“blue staff”) as guardians of the eastern gate.²⁸⁴ The pairing of Aśokakāntā with Nīladaṇḍa might thus be an allusion to the two best-known psychoactive mushrooms: the “red” fly agaric and “blue” Psilocybe cubensis.

The origin of the other part of her name is more obscure. Buddhist texts mention a yakṣa (male nature spirit, goblin) with the name Mārīci (“lightray;” “sunbeam”)—the feminine form being Mārīcī.

Having discovered that Tārā’s tree, the acacia, contains DMT, we are tempted to ask if the asoka might not also have entheogenic properties. Monier-Williams offers the following under the entry for aśoka:

a-śoka… not causing sorrow; …not feeling sorrow; …the tree Jonesia Asoka Roxb. (a tree of moderate size belonging to the leguminous class with magnificent flowers)j

Sanskrit-English Dictionary²⁸⁵

An alternative interpretation of a-śoka is “causing not-sorrow” or “causing an absence of sorrow.” This might be an appropriate meaning for a drug plant but is there any evidence that it is psychoactive? The Tārā tantra contains a rite of love magic that includes this curious passage:

…grind up datura, nimb and aśoka flowers, make the powder into an ointment with honey…²⁸⁶

In his notes to this passage, Wilson includes a quotation from an unspecified sādhana:

Make five thousand burnt offerings with narcotic candali seeds.k And likewise narcotic fruits and the flowers of the aśoka…²⁸⁷

The “datura” (Skt. dhattura) referred to above is Datura metel, a solanaceous plant, well-known throughout Asia for its psychoactive and poisonous properties. Although “nimb” (Azadirachta indica, aka nīm or neem) is well-known in India as a medicinal and insecticidal plant, Wilson notes that “every part of it is used for magical purposes.” This is borne out by the following passage from a work by the Tibetan historian-lama Tārānātha (1575–1634):

When he was seated in a certain spot where young cattle herds often played, he found several swords they had made out of an aśoka tree and which they had left behind. He took one of them in his hands and put it down in front of himself. When he went into meditation, fire blazed forth from the sword of its own accord, and when he clasped it in his hands he soared into the skies and gained inner spiritual vision.²⁸⁸

Among Buddhist goddesses, Mārīcī is not alone in carrying an aśoka branch. There are several others who do so, including Māraniṣūdanī Tārā and Varada Tārā. In both these cases, however, there are hints of hidden meanings: Māraniṣūdanī also holds a water pot while riding a makara and Varada’s aśoka branch “rains wish-granting gems.”²⁸⁹

Aśoka is also an ingredient in a preparation claimed to “induce visions and illuminate hidden contents of the psyche.”²⁹⁰ Thus, although we have no direct evidence regarding its properties, we find that, at least within the tradition of tantric Buddhism, the aśoka tree is considered to be one of various “narcotic” and magical plants. That much of this evidence is found in the context of Tārā practice lends further weight to the notion that the use of psychoactive plants was either a part of her cult or, at the very least, that the cult preserved and transmitted the information that these plants held a spiritual “power” even if it was not understood how this power was made manifest.

There is also a tradition which associates Mahāmayūrī, the peacock goddess, with the aśoka tree. As Mahāmayūrī is clearly connected with Psilocybe mushrooms,l this leads us to suspect that, even if aśoka is not psychoactive per se, it is at least drug related. It may also be significant that a certain book of spells, normally called Mahāmayūrī (“The Great Peahen”), is occasionally referred to as Mārīcī. This suggests that the goddesses Mahāmayūrī and Aśokakāntā-Mārīcī are closely related, if not synonymous.

On the other hand, regardless of any pharmacological properties of its own, aśoka may be used symbolically, a stand-in for another plant. Asoka is one of those trees that blooms before it leafs out; and in spring, before a single leaf appears, aśoka trees are a mass of red blossoms, looking not unlike a gigantic fly agaric mushroom.

Returning to Monier-Williams’ dictionary definition of aśoka for a moment, if we read on a little further in the same entry we find:

Aśokari, m. ‘enemy of the Aśoka tree,’ the plant Nauclea Kadamba (sic) Roxb.

Sanskrit-English Dictionary²⁹¹

Aśokari, better known as the Kadamba tree, is now placed in the Neolamarckia genus as N. cadamba. In 2011 the species was found to contain previously unknown indole alkaloids.²⁹² The four carbons, one nitrogen “indole” ring is common to the molecular structure of several psychedelic compounds, including LSD, DMT and psilocybin. Related species in the Neolamarckia and Nauclea genera are commonly used medicinally in various parts of Asia. Many of these contain MAO inhibiting β-carbolines.

FIGURE 86. The underside of a mushroom cap showing “sun” and “light rays.” [Crowley]

We have seen that the aśoka tree was traditionally associated with “narcotic” and magical plants and, like acacia, it is a member of the Leguminosae, a plant family rich in tryptamines. It is quite feasible, then, that some part of the aśoka tree might contain DMT. If so, in order for it to become orally active, it would need to be combined with something that would inhibit the body’s monoamine-oxidase. If we find that Saraca asoca does indeed contain β-carbolines, like others of its genus, then it may be just such an MAO inhibitor. But why would that make it the “enemy of the Asoka tree” rather than its friend? The most likely reason is that aśoka is commonly prescribed in Indian folk medicine (Skt. ayūrveda). As Kadamba is also used as an ayurvedic remedy perhaps the name Aśokari was given to it simply as a reminder that it is contra-indicated if the patient is taking aśoka. The effects of the combination might not be quite what the doctor ordered.

Aśokakāntā-Mārīcī is a yellow, two-armed form of Mārīcī (“light-ray”; “sunbeam”)—a goddess associated with the dawn although her name could be seen as an allusion to the appearance of the underside of a mushroom cap (see Figure 88). She is depicted as riding in a chariot drawn by seven pigs. This image seems to be a deliberate allusion to the sun god’s seven-horse chariot. This complementary pairing of horses (active, male) with pigs (passive, female) is also found in the pairing of the Buddhist deities Hayagrīva (male) and Vajravārāhī (female), two meditation deities who are often represented in sexual union. Hayagrīva (“horse-neck”) is characterized by a small horsehead emerging from the crown of his head and Vajravārāhī (“thunderbolt-sow”) has a sow’s head emerging from hers. As with the sun god Surya, Mārīcī’s charioteer is legless, either being a female deity or our old friend Rāhu. The Sādhanamala, a compendium of tantric Buddhist liturgies, has this sādhana of Aśokakāntā-Mārīcī:

I bow to Mārīcī who rides the sow of golden color, whose complexion is like the color of molten gold. She stands in sportive attitude on the moon over the lotus, and holds with her left hand the bough of the aśoka tree, and displays the Varada pose in the right. She bears the image of the Dhyani [sic] buddha (Vairocana) on the crown, is decorated with bright jewels, wears white garments and grants assurance of safety (to the world).

Indian Buddhist Iconography²⁹³

FIGURE 87. Giant reed, Arundo donax. [Wiki]

Despite this description, she often appears without her sow and frequently with a vajra in her right hand. Pigs (both boars and sows) are famously fond of mushrooms and will unearth underground fungi such as truffles. I have yet to discover any conclusive evidence that Mārīcī has entheogenic implications but this conjunction of pigs and a medicinal plant certainly raises suspicions, especially when that famous sun-swallower Rāhu is involved.

EKAJATĀ

According to the Tibetan Vajrayāna tradition, Ekajatā (also known as Ekajatī) is the protectress of mantras and “treasure texts” (see Figure 117). Her own mantra is “…said to be so powerful that the moment it is uttered a man becomes free from danger, he is always followed by good fortune and his enemies are destroyed.”²⁹⁴ She appears in several forms with two, four, eight or twenty-four arms and varying sets of attributes. While the four-armed aspects occur most often in Indian sources, the two-armed, one-eyed, one-toothed, one-legged (and often one-breasted) figure of Ekajatā is more common in Tibet. She is frequently depicted in a wrathful, pot-bellied form that corresponds closely to the standard descriptions of yakṣas.

The name Ekajatā means “one tuft” and is usually interpreted as referring to her hairstyle; but if we examine her iconographic representations, we find nothing unusual about her hair, it being either (a) piled tidily in a neat coif, (b) in the matted locks of the jatamukuta (“dreadlock”) style or (c) flying upwards in the stylized manner common to wrathful deities.

Both Khadiravaṇī Tārā and Aśokakāntā-Mārīcī clearly have botanical references in their names. This naturally causes us to wonder whether Ekajatā, the third member of the trio, might not also represent a plant. Furthermore, the fact that Ekajatā is known as “daughter of Indra” raises suspicions that this plant may be psychoactive. “One tuft” could refer to the fluffy flower head of a reed, perhaps the DMT rich Arundo donax, which has one giant stem surmounted by a single flowering plume.

JANGULĪ TĀRĀ

Jangulī is white in colour and holds in her left hand buds of poisonous flowers.

Sādhanamālā²⁹⁵

In addition to Khadiravaṇī Tārā, there is yet another green form of Tārā who carries two lotuses. This is Jangulī Tārā and her distinctive feature is that she (like Skanda and Mahāmayūrī) rides a peacock. Tārā, who is said to protect her devotees from all dangers, assumes the form of Jangulī Tārā (“Venom Tārā”) to give protection from snakebite. The relevance of the peacock here is that in Indian folklore, peacocks are said to eat venomous snakes.

Jangulī is included in the Sādhanamala as a separate goddess with her own practices, but she was eventually absorbed by the Tārā cult as being one more aspect of the great, protective goddess.

HAYAGRĪVA

According to Hindu myth, Viṣṇu took his horse-headed form Hayagrīva (“horse neck”) in order to kill the asuras Madhu and Kaitabha. In Buddhism, Hayagrīva (Tib. Tamdin) is said to be a wrathful aspect of Avalokiteśvara though in early depictions he appears as a dwarf-like figure in the retinue of Tārā.²⁹⁶ If nothing else, the fact that his mantra (om amṛitodbhava hūm phaṭ) contains a reference to amṛita should pique our curiosity. There is also good reason to suspect that Hayagrīva is linked with psychoactivity. To begin with, there is the word amṛitodbhava. It could mean “source of amṛita” or “generated by amṛita.” Either way, it is cause for further investigation. But there is much more.

FIGURE 88. Horse-headed Hayagrīva holding a “discus.” Temple carving, Khajuraho, India. [Wiki]

Hayagrīva is intimately linked to the acacia tree as he is usually described as wielding an acacia wood staff (Skt. khadira-daṇḍa).²⁹⁷ Also, there is a well-known, albeit unexplained, connection between Hayagrīva and a ritual implement known as the kīla (Tib. p’urba). Not only does an image of Hayagrīva surmount many kīlas, (if not in full, then at least symbolically as a horse’s head) but one of Hayagrīva’s many variants depicts him as the kīla itself.²⁹⁸ The basic form of all kīlas is that of a three-sided peg that may be made of various materials, but the best is said to be khadira wood.²⁹⁹ This choice of material may hark back to the kīla’s origin. Martin Boord, an authority on the kīla and its history, presents quite a convincing argumentm that the original kīlas were the three-sided thorns of the acacia tree.³⁰⁰ It should be pointed out, however, that despite the kīla’s undoubted association with Hayagrīva, the implement has a special deity of its own: Vajrakīla.n While Vajrakīla most probably originated as the apotheosis of the kīla, he is frequently identified with the deity Amṛitakuṇḍalin, whose name means “amṛita-swirl.”³⁰¹

FIGURE 89. Hayagriva’s “discus.” Detail of previous figure.

FIGURE 90. Hayagrīva wields a staff of acacia wood. Tibetan print. [Chandra]

A common version of the Buddhist Hayagrīva has a human head with a small, green, horse’s head emerging from his mass of hair (Fig. 90).o His symbolic, āyutana, form is a green horse’s head but why a horse? In India at the time this symbolism was invented, a horse was the fastest vehicle available. Thus, the horse-head is said to represent a horse’s speed.³⁰² In other words, Hayagrīva offers a rapid path to enlightenment. But why, then, is the horse-head said to be dark green? Is it a reference to the distinctive color of acacia bark?

In addition to the multisyllabic, deity-specific mantras, Vajrayāna deities may also be represented by a single syllable mantra, known as their seed syllable (Skt. bija-mantra). This bija-mantra is usually the first syllable of the deity’s name plus the anusvāra, |ṃ|. When applied to “Hayagrīva,” this gives us the seed syllable haṁ. But this is only one of his seed syllables; there is another, khaṁ, from the Sanskrit word khādaya (“devour”).³⁰³ A fourteenth century Tibetan woodblock print gives his mantra as haṁ khata bhuñja satvāyā svāhā. The overall meaning is obscure but the first two words are thought to mean “Hayagrīva eat.”³⁰⁴ This is a vital key to the symbolism of Hayagrīva as many of his traditions concern eating and drinking.

In Japanese Buddhism, it is said that Hayagrīva “eats up beings’ evil passions” just as a horse single-mindedly eats its fodder. He is also given the “secret name” of Vajra-Eater (Japanese, tanjiki-kongo).³⁰⁵ Japanese Vajrayāna has a set of four ritual gestures (Skt. mudra) used in “ceremonies consecrated to Hayagrīva.”³⁰⁶ Of these four, two are known as “poison-drinking gestures” (Skt. viṣa-pāna-mudra). He has been paired with several different female deities including Tārā and Vajravarahī, but the one consort who is specific to Hayagrīva is Śauṇḍinī, meaning “Lady Drunkard.”

GRASS

But what does a horse usually eat? Why, grass of course. It may come as a surprise to the reader that some grasses are psychoactive. We have already mentioned a species of millet in this regard, but there are several other grass species, like “sleepy grass” (Stipa robusta), which play host to an endogenous, systemic fungus.. That is, the fungus is present throughout all parts of the host plant, to such an extent that it is even passed on in its seeds. Sleepy grass is known to cause intoxication in livestock (another horse connection?) and some of these endophytic fungi are known to create lysergic amides such as ergine, a close chemical cousin of LSD.

The ryegrass Lolium temulentum, commonly called darnel, is known to cause intoxication and is an ingredient in at least three medieval recipes for “flying ointments.” The French word is ivraie (“intoxication”), in the Canary Islands it is known as borrachero (“drunkard”), and a German name, Taumellolch, means “delirium grass.” The grass is also responsible for a cattle disease called “ryegrass staggers,”p which has been attributed to perloline, perlolidine and other loline alkaloids (named for the Lolium, the rye-grass genus).³⁰⁷ It is unknown whether these compounds are psychoactive but, if they are indeed the cause of ryegrass staggers, they may be toxic. More interestingly, their presence is thought to be due to a fungal endophyte called Acremonium lolii, which also produces several ergot type alkaloids such as ergovaline, ergosine, ergotamine, ergocryptine, ergonovine, and ergine (lysergic acid amide).³⁰⁸ Of these, ergine is known to be psychedelic at dosages ten times that of LSD.q

These psychedelic alkaloids are easily extracted as they are readily water-soluble. Thus, once a patch of infected grass is located, a tea is easily prepared. Similar endophytic species of Acremonium parasitize the species of other grass genera, including Festuca, Hordeum, Stipa, and Poa.

The grass known as kuśa or durva is considered holy in Indian religions. Bundles of it are used as brooms and it is often placed beneath meditation seats. Tradition has it that Gautama Siddhartha sat on a seat of kuśa grass when he became enlightened. Also, some Vajrayāna initiations require that, on the prior evening, small bundles of this grass are placed beneath the initiate’s mattress and pillow. Any dreams are then deemed significant and are analyzed upon waking.

An Indian myth tells of an occasion when Garuda, the giant humanoid bird and mount of Viṣṇu, placed a pot of soma/amṛita on a patch of kuśa grass for his cousins, the nāgas. While they were performing their ritual ablutions, Indra, the king of the gods, came along and absconded with the soma. In his haste, he spilled a few drops of the elixir on the grass. When the nāgas discovered what had happened, they attempted to lick up the remaining drops. The blades of kuśa grass have sharp edges, though, and all the nāgas slit their tongues. This last detail serves as a pourquoi tale to account for snakes’ forked tongues but there is something else going on here. Why did it have to be amṛita? Surely the legend would have worked equally well with wine or honey. Another legend has it that kuśa was accidentally sprinkled with amṛita at the Churning of the Ocean. But regardless of the mythic details, all sources agree that kuśa grass became holy by being anointed with soma/amṛita.

It seems we are being told that there is (at least a trace of) something soma-like in kuśa grass. Here a problem arises. What exactly is kuśa grass? Unfortunately, folkloric taxonomy is never very precise and throughout India, various species are called kuśa ⁽or a synonym such as darbha, dhurbha, or durva⁾.r One species commonly identified as kuśa is Poa cynosuroides and, as noted above, Acremonium fungi produce the same ergot-like alkaloids in Poa species as they do in ryegrass.s

If we are to believe that there was an ancient Indian tradition of grass-psychedelic use, we must assume that the initiates would be able to distinguish P. cynosuroides from lookalikes Cynodon dactylon, Eragrostis cynosuroides, Imperata cylindrica and Panicum dactylon that are all unrelated and all called kuśa. I do not doubt that this is possible to an experienced herbalist, but finding a meadow infected with Acremonium is going to be more of a challenge. Of course, once a suitable patch of grass is found, its location would be passed on as part of the oral tradition.

Many species of grass contain n,n,dimethyltryptamine (DMT), n,n, 5-methoxy-dimethyltryptamine (5-MeO-DMT), or both. Such species include the giant reed, Arundo donax, and various members of the Phalaris genus.t There are problems with these latter. Not only are DMT and 5-MeO-DMT normally inactive when consumed orally, but many Phalaris species contain the toxic alkaloid gramine. Of course, this is not to rule out the possibility that a gramine-free species (or strain) may have been consumed along with a plant that would magically activate it upon ingestion. What is needed is a plant that contains a monoamine-oxidase inhibitor (MAOI) such as Syrian rue (Peganum harmala), which conveniently is part of Indian traditional medicine as a vermicide.

“MEAT”

These references to eating and intoxication relating to a horse-headed deity may remind the reader that “horse flesh” was one of the five “meats” eaten in the tantric feast (Skt. gaṇacakra). But I doubt that this “horse” ever galloped or neighed. We have seen that the “beef” and “peacock” of the gaṇacakra rite were merely tantric code words (Skt. sāṃdhyābhāṣā) for the Psilocybe cubensis mushroom. Analogously, given the above connections between acacia, amṛita, and a horse-headed deity, I offer the suggestion that this green “horse meat” was a psychoactive species of acacia. Admittedly, any source of DMT would be ineffective orally without an MAO inhibitor but there are many plants that would fill this role. We might expect, therefore, that one of the three remaining “meats” offers MAO inhibition.

There is one problem with this grass hypothesis and that is the possibility that Hayagrīva was yet another mushroom deity. We have already mentioned him in connection with the papilionate umbos of some Psilocybe species but there are also hints of Amanita muscaria. He is often described as blazing red (“like the fire which consumes the cosmos at the end of each aeon”) and dwarfish with a red beard, visible teeth and a bulging belly,³⁰⁹ all of which may be homologues of characteristic features of fly agaric. Then again, consider Figures 88 and 89. In this Hindu carving, Hayagrīva appears as an incarnation of Viṣṇu and as such, he has that god’s attributes. However, the cakra in his upper right bears a distinct resemblance to a mushroom. What are we to make of this?

One answer might be that Hayagrīva originated as a mushroom god and, as with many Indian mushroom gods, was recognized as an avatar of Viṣṇu, the mushroom god par excellence. Later, as a Buddhist deity, he was cut adrift from his Hindu moorings and became associated with a quite different entheogenic plant. We may disregard his description as fat, dwarfish, and red with prominent teeth, as these attributes are applied to many wrathful deities. Only the green horse’s head and hand-held attributes and gestures are unique to Hayagrīva. Among his various forms, his most common attribute³¹⁰ is the khadira staff and the adoration gesture (Skt. vandana-mudra)u is his most common mudra. Thus, while his Buddhist form shows hints of mushroom connections, these could be remnants of his earlier identity.

______________

a Conversely, the Sumerian cities could be seen as a second-rate, provincial attempt at copying Indus Valley originals.

b See below for a discussion of the crackling sound made by burning acacia thorns in a Tārā fire ritual.

c The acāryā was Jowo Atisha.

d The Tibetan term used here, chu-len, normally translates the Sanskrit rasāyana, “alchemical elixir.”

e Note the names of these alkaloids. These harma- compounds were discovered in Peganum harmala in the Middle East, long before ayahuasca researchers found these same alkaloids. In that Amazonian “tea,” they come from the Banisteriopsis caapi vine (yage).

f Note that this Budha (single |d|) is the planet Mercury and is by no means to be confused with Buddha (“the awakened one”). Their names are cognate, however, budha meaning “wise” or “clever.”

g Mercury’s phases are impossible to observe with the naked eye due to its proximity to the sun.

h Śalabhanjikas are analogous to caryatids in Greek architecture, which are also supporting columns in female form.

i Yakṣas are nature spirits who, like nāgas, are often associated with drugs.

j This species is now known as Saraca asoca (syn. Saraca confusa; Jonesia asoca).

k Note that this “candali” may be the same as caṇḍālī, the Buddhist equivalent to kuṇḍālinī.

l Vide supra, Peacocks

m The texts of an ancient Tārā fire ritual refer to the crackling sound made when a handful of kīlas are tossed onto the flames. Note that these “kīlas” are small enough to hold many at a time, were flammable, and made a crackling sound when burned. Due to these factors and their shared shape (a three-sided point), Dr. Boord believes that these kīlas were acacia thorns.

n Vajrakīla is the “thunderbolt-” or “Buddhist-kīla.”

o It should also be noted that in some variants the horse’s head is white or blue. In at least one version, Hayagrīva has three horse’s heads: green, white, and blue.

p This is not to be confused with “grass staggers,” which is a metabolic disorder connected with magnesium deficiency.

q Others in this list of these ergot-type alkaloids could be, and some indeed have been, used as precursors in the manufacture of LSD.

r Including, for instance: Cynodon dactylon, Eragrostis cynosuroides, Imperata cylindrica and Panicum dactylon. Although these species share similar physical characteristics, they are unrelated.

s Poa cynosuroides is also known as Desmostachya bipinnata.

t Species known to contain DMT and/or 5-MeO-DMT include Phalaris arundinacea, P. aquatica, P. brachystachys P. canariensis, P. minor, P. paradoxa, P. stenoptera, and P. truncata.

u Besides “adoration,” the dictionary gives another meaning for vandana: “a medicine which revives the dead.”

DĀKINĪS

Thence the yoginīs and ḍākinīs are difficult to find as they are source of the five amṛitas.

Cakrasaṃvara Tantra XVII, i.³¹¹

VAJRAVĀRĀHĪ

WHEN JETSUN MILAREPA initiated Gampopa with urine-flavored tea, he was introducing him to the maṇḍala of Vajravārāhī, a ḍākinī and the main meditation deity of Mila’s lineage of teachings, now known as the Kagyud.a One of the four great branches of Tibetan Buddhism, it carries the teachings of Indian siddhas such as Saraha, Tilopa, and Marpa’s guru, Nāropa. Ḍākinī is a word with meanings which range from “demonic witch” to “enlightened woman.” It is also used as an honorific term for a guru’s wife. Ḍākinīs such as Vajravārāhī are female deities who represent the wisdom aspect of enlightenment. They are visualized, and identified with, in meditation. As a red goddess decorated with white ornaments, who also stands on one leg, she could easily be seen as a symbol for the Amanita muscaria mushroom. That her skullcup is “brimming with amṛita” only heightens our suspicions. A closer look at her iconography and rituals reveals abundant references to amṛita and, covertly, to mushrooms.

Vajrayoginī (“Thunderbolt Yoga-lady”) is, in many ways, the archetypal ḍākinī. She is almost completely interchangeable with Vajravārāhī (“Thunderbolt Sow”), being identical in every regard except for a single iconographic detail: Vajravārāhī has a small excrescence in the shape of a sow’s head on the top of her head or, sometimes above her right ear. The prefix Vajra- serves to distinguish Vajravārāhī from the Hindu goddess Vārāhī (“Sow”). While sometimes considered the consort of Vārāha, the “boar incarnation” of Viṣṇu, Vārāhī is also counted among a set of sevenb mother goddesses known as the sapta mātṛikā and hence, an important deity in her own right.

FIGURE 91. Vajravārāhī differs from Vajrayoginī in one detail only—she has a tiny sow’s head emerging from her hair. Tibetan drawing. [Chandra]

Thus, Vajravārāhī is “the Sow goddess of the Vajrayāna” or “Buddhist Vārāhī.” However, the Hindu Vārāhī has a sow’s head whereas Vajravārāhī has a human head with a porciform growth. The parallel between this cranial protrusion and the uṣṇīṣa should be obvious.

In the “Wheel of Life” (Skt. bhavacakra), a diagram said to have its origin in Buddhism’s earliest period, the pig symbolizes ignorance. This is because pigs eat whatever is in front of them without discrimination. The Vajrayāna makes the same observation about porcine table manners but, in a characteristic inversion of symbolic values, asserts that the sow’s head symbolizes a meditative state of “one taste” (Skt. ekarasa) in which all experience, whether neutral, pleasant or painful, is experienced simply as a stream of sensations, without further mental elaboration.

On a more mundane level, we should not overlook the fact that pigs are notoriously fond of mushrooms and edible fungi of all kinds. This pig-mushroom connection extends even to the names we give some mushrooms. For instance, the “choice edible” Boletus edulis has the common name porcini (Italian for “piglets”) and a related genus is called Suillus (also “piglet,” from Latin sus, “a pig”).c In addition to their iconographic similarities, Vajrayoginī and Vajravārāhī are interchangeable in that they are both considered to be the consort of the heruka Cakrasaṃvara. As the male partner, a heruka represents the “skillful means” (Skt. upaya) aspect of enlightenment.d While this term is often interpreted as meaning “compassion,” one cannot help entertaining the notion that, if used as a tool for attaining enlightenment, psychedelic mushrooms could be a most skillful “means.” This seems to be especially relevant in the case of Cakrasaṃvara.

FIGURE 92. Surmounting Cakrasaṃvara’s five heads is a parasol. Tibetan print, enhanced for clarity. [Chandra]

CAKRASAṂVARA

Cakrasaṃvara means “wheel-saṃvara.” Vedic texts mention Saṃvara as the name of a drought demon (drought is, of course, inimical to moisture-loving mushrooms) while a much later tradition has Saṃvara as a synonym of Śiva. In Buddhism, Saṃvara (or Sambara) is a variant form of the meditation deity Hevajra. But, when used as a common noun, saṃvara is also a synonym for samaya, a word with two meanings: “vow” or “pledge” and “sacrament.” Jayabhadra states that the initiate is:

…committed to the saṃvara, both those to be observed and those to be consumed.³¹² (Emphasis added.)

Commentary on the Laghusaṃvarae

In other words, saṃvara means both the amṛita consumed at the outset of the initiation and the vows made at its conclusion. Thus, the name Cakrasaṃvara may be translated as “wheel-sacrament.” It is worthy of note that Tibetan translators did not render his name with a literal equivalent but chose “Bliss-Wheel” (Tib. K’orlo Dechok) instead. In an earlier chapter, we examined the wheel as a mushroom symbol; so the further step to “mushroom sacrament” remains a distinct possibility, which the Tibetan translation does nothing to dispel.

Occasionally, in reading texts relating to Vajrayāna Buddhism, I have come across passages regarding which scholars profess their bewilderment, but which seem obvious once one adopts the psychedelic hypothesis. One such is the following extract from the Cakrasaṃvara Tantra, translated by David Gray:

One should produce that which is emaciated in the cattle pen and likewise ashes…³¹³

Now, Gray explains that he arrived at the word “emaciated” by deduction because the actual Sanskrit (goṣṭhotpalikāḥ) is derived from utpala (literally “fleshless”). He is kind enough to cite other guesses, including one ancient author who suggested it was related to cow dung. By now, the attentive reader should be able to think of one fleshless cow product which grows out of cow dung and is related to tantra - the Psilocybe cubensis mushroom. The “ash” could, as I have previously mentioned, represent the mushroom’s spores. Such a suggestion might also explain another passage from the same tantra:

The maṇḍala ground should be anointed there with unfallen cow dung, with charnel ground ash together with the five ambrosias.

The Procedure of Wheel Worship, Cakrasaṃvara Tantra, Ch. II³¹⁴

Of course, the term “five ambrosias” spoken of here is a translation of the Sanskrit pañcāmṛita (i.e. pañca-amṛita). Thus, the text is very explicit regarding the cow dung and ash as they are given the same status as the fivefold amṛita.f It is also noteworthy that these are the opening lines of the chapter on “Wheel Worship.” There are several variations of Cakrasaṃvara’s maṇḍala, no doubt due to the popularity of this deity. All of these maṇḍalas prominently feature vases, flasks or skullcups of amṛita. One lavishly illustrated exhibition guide notes that in a painted maṇḍala of Cakrasaṃvara, the “four vases of amṛita are... unusually large.”³¹⁵ This is indeed the case; no doubt the size of the vases was meant to indicate their importance in the cult of Cakra-saṃvara.

FIGURE 93. Vajrayoginī drinks from her skullcup. Tibetan print, enhanced for clarity. [Chandra]

The Cakrasaṃvara Tantra describes the sexual union of Vajrayoginī and Cakrasaṃvara; although, as with all tantras, this is intended to be understood on many levels. The interpretations range from yogas of subtle bodily energies to teachings on the inseparability of voidness and blissful awareness. Heruka (i.e. Cakrasaṃ-vara) and Vajrayoginī are considered to be fully equivalent to other such pairs, such as Hevajra and Nairatmya in the Hevajra tantra. These deity pairs were (and still are) visualized in the meditation practices of tantric Buddhists; but in the Kagyud tradition it is most often Vajrayoginī (or her alter (non)ego Vajravārāhī) alone who is the main object of meditation.

Many variants of Vajrayoginī are known, almost all such forms show her as a naked sixteen-year-old girl, bright red, and adorned with white beads made of human bone. She carries a skullcup full of blood in her left hand, a rather curious staff (Skt. khaṭvāṅga) in the crook of her left arm, and a “cutter” (Skt. kartṛi; Tib., drigu), a kind of curved knife, in her right hand. We shall now examine each of her most significant symbols in turn.

BLOOD

In all her variants except one, the ḍākinī Vajrayoginī carries a skullcup (of blood or amṛita) and, in many of her forms, she drinks from it. The exception is Chinnamundā (“severed head [lady]”), Vajrayoginī’s headless form, in which she has cut off her own head with her kartṛi, and holds her own head in her left hand where she normally would hold the skullcup. She is also known as in Sarvabuddhā (“all-awakened lady” or “she of all Buddhas”) but this does not mean that she originated in, or is unique to, Buddhism, as she is also worshiped as a Hindu goddess with the name Chinnamastā.

Three streams of blood arc upwards from her neck, the central one falling into the mouth of her own, severed head and the left and right streams falling into the open mouths of her two attendant ḍākinīs, who are not to be thought of as separate beings but as extensions of Chinnamundā herself.g It is worthy of note that the mantra of Vajrayoginī includes the name of this headless deity and those of her two attendants.

FIGURE 94. The severed head of Chinnamastā (the Hindu equivalent of Chinnamundā) drinks her own blood, as do her two attendants. Indian print, 19th century. [Public domain]

Generally, we are told that the “blood” which Vajrayoginī drinks is the “blood of the enemies”—but the invocation of the headless form shows that it is her own “essence” which is being consumed. Her descriptions may be read on at least two levels, literal and metaphorical. I believe that both were intended. The literal one is as a young female yogi, drinking a reddish liquid from a human skullcup by the light of the funeral pyres of a cremation ground. To take that as the only interpretation raises several questions. However, the symbolism of the various items she wears and carries offers a key to her meaning. Without her symbolic attributes (Skt. mudrā), Vajrayoginī would be indistinguishable from any other bright red ḍākinī. But apart from their usefulness in iconographic identification, they provide a remarkable insight into the hidden meanings implicit in this deity.

FIGURE 95. At the center of her symbolic “citta maṇḍala” Vajrayoginī is shown as a vajra on a four-petaled lotus within a dharmodaya. Four points of the dharmodaya contain “bliss whorls.” Each corner of the maṇḍala has a skullcup of amṛita resting upon a vase of amṛita. Tibetan print, detail. [Chandra].

THE DHARMODAYA

Vajrayoginī, her entourage and the whole landscape in which they stand arise out of something called a dharmodaya (“the origin of phenomena”). When depicted in solid form, it is shown as a tetrahedron standing on one point so that the uppermost face is horizontal. When it is drawn in two dimensions, it is identical to the six-pointed “star of David.”

These are merely artistic conventions, however; the written texts sometimes get a little more specific about the details. For instance, a sādhana of “Two-facedh Vajravārāhī in the Chel tradition” describes the dharmodaya as “white on the outside, red on the inside, with a narrow root and a large hood, domed on top like the back of a tortoise.”³¹⁶ Not only is one reminded of a red and white mushroom, but this is curiously reminiscent of Viṣṇu’s turtle avatar that featured prominently in the Churning of the Ocean.

THE CORPSE

Many liturgies describe Vajrayoginī as standing one-legged (i.e. mushroom-like) “as if dancing” on a corpse. We now turn our attention to the many connections between amṛita, corpses, and mushrooms.

In The Mahāvīra Vessel and the Plant Pūtika,³¹⁷ Stella Kramrisch describes how later versions of the soma sacrifice combined it with the pravargya sacrifice that requires a specially made pot. As part of the fire ritual, a pot is made from clay into which were mixed a few other ingredients, most important being a plant called pūtika (“the stinker”). This plant was the first of the substitutes for soma described in the Brāhmaṇas.

In the northeastern Indian state of Bihar live the Santal tribe, an ancient indigenous people whose language is neither Indo-European nor Dravidian but belongs to the third family of Indian languages: Munda. The Santals eat a reddish-brown mushroom (tentatively identified as a Scleroderma sp.) called pūtka which, if left to decay, develops a powerful stench like that of a human corpse. To avoid this unpleasantness, leftover pūtka is therefore buried – like a corpse. This sounds like a pretty good candidate for the pūtika of the Brāhmaṇas, stinky and with a very similar name. However, pūtka is in no way psychoactive and the Santal do not accord these mushrooms any reverence, although they believe them to be generated by lightning strikes, just as the Vedas say soma was.³¹⁸ Also, the Santal word pūtka is a curiosity in that it defies the rules of Santal grammar. Santal nouns fall into two groups: “things with a soul” and “things without a soul” and of the entire plant kingdom, pūtka is the only one to be accorded a soul. As a mushroom, the Santal see it simply as a seasonal ingredient in their curriesi though they claim to be familiar with a species of entheogenic fungus. They say it grows on cow dung.³¹⁹

There is a tantric ritual in which five corpses, one human and four animal, are buried. Then, when they have decomposed, a pot is made from the “clay” that they have become.³²⁰ Once again, the literal interpretation is problematic, as many years need to pass before decomposing flesh becomes incorporated into the earth. Even then, they do not form a heavy clay, such as is necessary for making pots. I would venture to suggest that this process would be a lot more feasible if these “corpses” were insubstantial, rapidly decomposing, mushrooms.

Although it is from a much later historical period, the pot that is made from the “clay” presents a precise parallel to the ritual incorporation of pūtika into the clay of the pot during the Vedic soma-ceremony.

There is a section of the Hevajra Tantra which “explains” various code words, one of which is dhvaja (“banner of victory”). This is especially relevant as we have already considered the dhvaja as a mushroom symbol. A commentary on the Hevajra Tantra says:

A dhvaja is the corpse of a man or woman who has been a thief... who has had his or her body rent with a sword and hung on a gallows.

Yogaratnamālā³²¹

This rending of the corpse in two is highly reminiscent of the “slaying rite” of that same tantra in which the “victim” is split apart “just below the navel.” The commentary goes on to describe how one should turn the corpse into pills “about the size of a juniper berry,” which will grant siddhis and reverse the aging process. Just what one might expect from amṛita.

Corpses and Rematī

Given the use of Sanskrit umbrella and parasol words as synonyms for “mushroom” and our interpretation of the peacock as a specific symbol for Ps. cubensis, our suspicions should be especially raised whenever parasols and peacocks come together. One such juxtaposition of these symbols is found in the Buddhist goddess Rematī who always has a parasol made of peacock feathers above her head. (No one holds it. It just floats there.) This would seem to be a strong indication that the deity was involved with a cult of the mushroom. Also, it is significant that the “biography” of Rematī states that the soma plant grew up from the spilled sexual fluids of her intercourse with her husband.³²² However, Tibetan uses quite different words for soma and amṛita. The word used here is chong zhi.

FIGURE 96. Like Vajrayoginī, Kālī treads upon a corpse, in this case it is her consort, Śiva. Note also the garlands of heads and arms and the curved knife—endowed with an eye. Indian drawing, 19th century. [Public domain]

All Buddhist deities are identified by the set of symbolic attributes they bear. The goddess Rematī (also known as Śri Devī) has a stranger set than most, not least of which is the corpse which rests upon her tongue. As we have seen with heads strung into garlands and the skulls that adorn crowns, this “corpse” is far smaller than life-size.

The Buddhist protectress Rematī is occasionally referred to as Kālidevī (“goddess Kālī”), indicating that she is a Buddhist take on the Hindu goddess Kālī and not, as one might expect, the goddess Śri (although it does hint at a connection between the two goddesses). Just as Kālī is considered the wife of the god Śiva, Rematī is the consort of Mahākāla, one of his Buddhist versions.

FIGURE 97. Vajravārāhī’s left foot crushes a corpse between sun and moon disks. Tibetan drawing, detail. [Chandra]

FIGURE 98. The tiny corpse (head and legs visible here) on Rematī’s tongue represents “the taste of amṛita.” Detail of Tibetan print. [Chandra]

Although Kālī is counted among the “Ten Mothers” (Skt. daśa-mātṛikā; Tib. ma-mo), a set of indigenous female deities, it is possible that she began her existence as one of the seven named tongues of flame that consume soma in the Vedic fire ritual. To this day, Kālī is represented with an abnormally long tongue, thrust out over her chin. According to tradition it protrudes in this way so that she may constantly taste amṛita.

Kālī also has a garland of “human heads” and a skirt of “human arms.” It is curious that there are no torsos or legs. Is it possible that the heads should be interpreted as “mushroom caps” and the arms as “mushroom stems?”

FIGURE 99. Kālī’s protruding tongue “constantly tastes amṛita.” Detail of a 19th century drawing. [Public domain]

The description of Rematī is even more explicit in its allusion to the homa fire sacrifice (that is, the Buddhist version of the Vedic soma rite):

Her mouth is described as an open hearth for destructive burnt offerings…which conflagrates the enemies or rudras who pervert or destroy the teachings. Tongues of fire blaze within her mouth… Her red tongue twists like lightning as she experiences the divine taste of nectar, symbolized by the human corpse.

Note that these are “rudras” in the plural, not Rudra the Hindu god. We have already encountered this plural usage in the Yajur Veda where it seems to indicate psychoactive mushrooms. Here, they are also considered “enemies” (Skt. amitra). The chain of symbolism which proceeds from rudra (psychoactive mushroom) via amṛita (elixir) to amitra (enemy) will be considered in more detail below.

CORPSES AND YAMĀNTAKA

Yamāntaka is an important Vajrayāna deityj who uses a corpse as a club. The name Yamāntaka (i.e. yama+antaka, “death-ender”) parallels the meaning of amṛita: “deathlessness.” Alternatively, “Yama + antaka” could also be construed as “Yama, [who is] the ender” (i.e. death). This corpse-club (Tibetan: Zhing dByug) is represented as a corpse impaled on a stake. Yamāntaka (who rides a buffalo) is often confused or conflated with Vajrabhairava (who has the head of a buffalo). Most maṇḍalas of Vajrabhairava include a corpse-on-a-stake along with vases of amṛita, skullcups of amṛita and even skullcups of amṛita set atop vases of amṛita.³²³

FIGURE 100. A corpse-club. Maṇḍala of Yamāntaka, detail. [Chandra]

If, as with Rematī, the corpse represents the taste of amṛita, then this corpse-on-a-stick should be some kind of amṛita-on-a-stick. A mushroom would certainly fit this description as the body (cap) of the mushroom is “impaled” by the stem. Similar “weapons” are wielded by Preṣakā (“Maidservant”), a goddess in the retinue of Vetālī.k In Indian folklore, cemeteries may be haunted by spirits known as vetalas who are said to enter corpses of the recently deceased and reanimate them. They are loosely equivalent to the Haitian zombie.l

FIGURE 101. Tibetan ma-mos are female demons with pendulous breasts. They are always depicted holding an inverted dish above their heads so that they resemble mushrooms. Mongolia, 19th century. [mc]

When Preṣakā is the central goddess of a group, she holds an umbrella to her heart, a detail that should alert us to the possibility that she is another mushroom deity. It is hardly surprising to discover that one of her attendants is the peacock goddess Mahāmayūrī.³²⁴ (By now, the reader will have no difficulty in seeing the combination of parasol and peacock as symbolic of a bluing, psychedelic mushroom, probably Psilocybe cubensis.) However, when Preṣakā is merely an attendant in the retinue of Vetālī, she “brandishes two corpses”—one “vermilion-colored” and the other a “mummified body in the shape of a club.”³²⁵ Here we may see the fly agaric mushroom in three stages: the “vermilion-colored corpse” is a fresh, bright red, A. muscaria mushroom, the “mummified corpse” is the same mushroom when dried and the main deity, Vetālī, the Revived-Corpse Lady, is the formerly dried mushroom after it has been rehydrated. In other words, Vetālī represents the prepared A. muscaria mushroom, ready for ingestion.

Drying this mushroom is not simply for storage although, as mushrooms are seasonal, this is an important consideration. Any A. muscaria mushrooms intended for consumption should first be thoroughly dried to maximize the conversion of (toxic) ibotenic acid to (psychoactive) muscimol. These “mummified bodies” could then be “revived” by steeping in water (or as the Vedas say, milk) then ground between a pair of “soma-stones” to produce a more potent and less toxic potion than is possible with fresh mushrooms. This raises the intriguing possibility that in “treading on a corpse,” Vajrayoginī may actually be pressing out the soma-elixir. Note that the corpse in Vajrayoginī’s iconography is sandwiched between sun and moon discs. The two grinding stones used in Vedic soma-ceremonies were referred to as the sun and moon. Although the sādhanas of Vajrayoginī describe this corpse as lying upon the sun and moon disks, Tibetan artists invariably depict it as being between the two disks (see Fig. 97). A comparable motif may be found in the sādhanas of the deity Hevajra. He stands upon sun and moon disks which have a skull between them.³²⁶

THE TIARA (ŚEKHARA)

Buddhist images display a distinct double standard when it comes to skulls. The skullcups that hold amṛita or other liquids are always life-sized. That is, their size is comparable to the head of the deity holding it. But there are the other symbolic skulls and heads worn as ornaments that are much smaller.

The skulls adorning Vajrayoginī’s tiara, the “human heads” that hang as a garland around her neck and those impaled upon her khaṭvāṅga staff cannot possibly be of normal size. The notion of someone wearing five human skulls (literally “dried heads”) as a tiara, while sporting a garland of fifty “fresh” human heads, is as implausible as it is grotesque. But nowhere in the descriptions of the many deities who wear such heads and skulls is it stated that they are anything less than normal size. This disparity between the size of a normal human head and those in the necklace may be the reason that some authors have described this as “a garland of shrunken heads”³²⁷ despite the absence of any textual justification for this description. Besides, the practice of head-shrinking is unknown in India. Or could it be that these deities are supernatural beings of such great size that the skulls seem small by comparison?

The definitive answer is to be found in the iconographic diagrams which provide the canonical dimensions of the deities for Buddhist artists. These “iconometric” diagrams use a system of grids to give the size and proportions of all beings that may be painted: Buddhas, bodhisattvas, gods and even goblins. According to these canonical proportions, ḍākinīs come in one standard height: 108 “finger widths” (Skt. aṅguli) or approximately 6ft 6in (2 meters). Admittedly, this is an imposing height for a sixteen-year-old girl, but still nowhere near large enough for her to wear five human skulls on her headband.

Vajrayoginī’s iconometric grid (see Plate 15) is an extremely useful tool for determining the intended size of her skull ornaments. Measurements derived from these grids show that these “skulls” are between three and four inches across (depending on the value of a “finger-width”). This is far too small for even the “dried head” of a child but it is just about right for the dried “head” (i.e. the pileus or cap) of an Amanita muscaria mushroom.

As ever with Vajrayāna symbols we may expect many levels of interpretation, literal meanings being overlaid with many layers of metaphor. If we relax our mental focus a little and ignore the finer details, we see that we are being told that the ḍākinī is red with white spots and stands on one leg, not entirely dissimilar to the Amanita muscaria mushroom.

FIGURE 102. Vajrayoginī’s tiara, bearing five curiously diminutive skulls. Mongolian print. [Crowley]

In her left hand, she holds a normal-sized skull which holds amṛita.m I find it difficult to believe that even the most enterprising young yoginī could find fresh, liquid human blood in a cremation ground. The liquid contained in her skullcup is sometimes said to be amṛita, sometimes blood. Both, of course, refer to a reddish decoction of fly agaric, not actual human blood.

Finding fifty “fresh human heads, dripping blood” for her garland presents a similar problem. Even if she could accumulate this quantity of heads, the garland and tiara would be quite unwearable due to their great size. But, as we have seen, the many heads and skulls adorning her body are only the size of dried caps of A. muscaria mushrooms. Could this be because they are actually the dried caps of A. muscaria mushrooms? The possibility of such a symbolic substitution should not be lightly dismissed. After all, the Ojibway (a Native American people) refer to the bulbous base of an Amanita as a “skull.”³²⁸

THE SKULLCUP (KAPĀLA)

Vajrayoginī carries a cup, made from the top of a human skull (Skt. kapāla). Many Vedic rituals, including the soma rite, made use of an earthenware bowl for libations. It has been suggested that the tantric skullcup is a descendant of this “piece of pottery.”³²⁹

The kapāla which Vajrayoginī holds is described either as containing amṛita or blood. If “blood,” it may be further defined as being the blood of the “enemies” or the “unrighteous.” Given the Indian passion for wordplay, these terms are readily explained by seeing both “enemy” and “unrighteous” as puns. One Sanskrit word for “enemy” is amitra (a-mitra, literally, “not-friend”), phonetically very close to amṛita.n Similarly, when we encounter references to “evildoers,” we should recall that in Sanskrit the word for “righteousness” is ṛita. Hence, “evil” or “unrighteousness” is anṛita. Again, this is very close to the sound of amṛita.

FIGURE 103. A human skull holds turbulent amṛita. Tibetan print, detail. [Crowley]

Many deities are said to hold skullcups and if we compare their variant forms, we frequently find that in some versions the deity’s skullcup holds “blood,” while at other times it holds amṛita. This is a good indication that the term “blood” is not to be taken literally and that it is synonymous with amṛita.

We may now see why Rematī’s flaming mouth “conflagrates the enemies” while her tongue “experiences the divine taste of nectar.” If her mouth is a “hearth for burnt offerings,” then her tongue must taste the nectar (amṛita) which, in the agni-hotra ritual, is sacrificed to the flames. The tantric practitioner who visualizes Rematī in terms of the fire ritual simultaneously denigrates “the enemies or rudras who pervert or destroy the teachings” as both “enemy” (Skt. amitra) and “unrighteous” (Skt. anṛita) and, by making puns on the word amṛita, celebrates the soma sacrament. This passage exemplifies the typical tantric style of juxtaposing opposites and transcending moral judgments. Having explained the “enemies” and the “unrighteous,” we are left with the question of the rudras. The phrase “enemies or rudras” implies that they were, in some sense, synonymous. But if “enemy” is simply a pun on amṛita that means that these rudras are amṛita, too. So, who were they?

As we have seen in a previous section, a god called Rudra is mentioned frequently in the hymns of the Ṛig Veda yet no clear image of a deity emerges. Indeed, his name is to be found as a synonym of various gods. Sometimes the epithet rudra (Skt.: “red,” “ruddy”) implies Agni the fire god, sometimes the god Soma, and sometimes it is a synonym of Indra, the soma-loving storm god. The Ṛig Veda speaks of the hordes of rudras who accompany Indra, the bringer of storms and the Yajur Veda describes the “red” and “blue-necked” rudras frequently seen in damp places.

By critical analysis of various Hindu legends, Clark Heinrich makes a convincing case that the god Rudra was the fly agaric mushroom (Amanita muscaria), elevated to divine status.³³⁰ The inner surface of the skullcups that are found on Vajrayāna altars are painted red, giving them the appearance of the “chalice” form of a fully mature A. muscaria mushroom in which the cap takes on a concave shape (see Plate 1, bottom photograph, second mushroom from the left).

In the Indian subcontinent, dry for most of the year, mushrooms appear in sudden flushes during and after the monsoon rains. Hence Indra, the monsoon-bringer whose thunderbolt causes the soma-plant to spring forth, is said to be accompanied by hordes of rudras. They are the fungal source of soma, his favorite potion. After all, does not the White Yajur Veda speak of the “dwarfish,” “misshapen” rudras who occur “by the thousand?”

Around the fifth century, certain ascetic followers of Śiva known as kāpālika (literally, “skull-ists”) began imitating Rudra in behavior and appearance. As a religious observance they lived in cemeteries, clothed only in the ash of funeral pyres, wore their hair long and matted, carried a skull-topped staff (Skt. khaṭvāṅga) and used a human skullcup (Skt. kapāla) as a begging bowl. In this latter observance, they imitated Rudra’s legendary penance for cutting off the head of the god Brahma.

An uninitiated member of the Buddhist establishment, hearing of “enemies or rudras who pervert or destroy the teachings” might understand it to refer to such “heretics” as these Hindu kāpālikas. However, many of the distinctive traits of Vajrayāna Buddhism, including the Vedic homa and bali rituals, have been traced to Hindu origins. Specifically, they are believed to derive from this very sect: the kāpālika.³³¹ Thus when chanting about “enemies” or “rudras,” the multilayered meanings of tantra allow practitioners of Vajrayāna to present an air of orthodoxy while simultaneously sending a nod and a wink to those initiates who know that both “enemy” and “rudra” are code words for the soma/amṛita drug: a mushroom. Presumably, these mushrooms are the rudras eaten by Rematī.

The role of the “skullcup” (Skt. kapāla) is so important to the Vajrayāna that there is a prominent heruka (i.e., a wrathful, male meditation deity) called Buddhakapāla. He is the central character in a tantra (Buddhakapālayoginī-tantra-rāja) along with his “intoxicated, nude and fearless” “wisdom consort,” Citrasenā (“bright-spear lady”). Note that “Buddha skullcup” and “bright-spear lady” are complementary names. When joined, they resemble the cap and stem of a mushroom. The opening chapter of this tantra is full of truly startling non-sequiturs.

The tantra begins in the formulaic yet scandalous way of tantras, with the Buddha having sex with a lady friend (in this instance, Citrasenā) but this time there’s a plot twist: the Buddha dies during the act. Vajrapāṇi, a member of the audience of attendant bodhisattvas, speaks up and, rather than comment on the astonishing death of the enlightened one, he beseeches Citrasenā to find some way of enlightening the truly stupid. Citrasenā does not answer, though, because she is still horny and is ogling the dead Buddha lustfully. This causes the Buddha’s head to burst open, releasing a scroll upon which is written a mantra about amṛita which makes distant nāgas sweat.³³²

In all fairness, it should be noted that Buddhist tantras often have their verses shuffled to confuse the uninitiated. Even so, the surreal, impossible imagery should be enough to demonstrate that this text is symbolic and not intended to be taken literally. But we do have the mention of amṛita (even if only in a mantra) in the same breath as our old friends the nāgas and, significantly, a physical, symptom – sweating. Excessive perspiration is characteristic of drugs which affect the neurotransmitter acetylcholine. It so happens that muscimol, the active principle of the fly agaric mushroom, is just such a drug and profuse sweating is a common side effect of fly agaric intoxication.

THE STAFF (KHAṬVĀṄGA)

Most ḍākinīs are said to carry a staff called a khaṭvāṅga, usually in the crook of the left arm. The name translates as “bed-leg” though one authority declares the original khaṭvāṅga to have been a club made of a human skull with a human rib for a handle. This attribute is borrowed from the khaṭvāṅga held by Śiva, though in his case it is simply a staff topped with a skull. The Buddhist khaṭvāṅga is a staff topped with a stack of cryptic symbols.

Various Vajrayāna commentaries explain the role of the khaṭvāṅga as the male “secret consort” of the ḍākinī. In other words, though apparently alone, she is said to be in sexual union with the staff. Symbolically this is said to represent the union of primordial wisdom (the ḍākinī) with skillful means (her khaṭvāṅga). There are many such commentaries on the symbolism of the khaṭvāṅga and its various parts but nowhere in the literature are we told what, literally speaking, a khaṭvāṅga is and what practical purpose (if any) it serves.

An eight-sided white staff, often said to be made of bone, the khaṭvāṅga is topped with a series of symbols. From the top, they are a black, five-pronged vajra, three heads, a vase and a viśvavajra (“double thunderbolt”). When depicted in detail it is also decorated with a scarf, a damaru and a bell.

When ḍākinī is translated into English as “witch,” one is forcefully reminded that the skywalking abilities of her European sisters have often been attributed to a salve containing henbane (Hyoscyamus niger), applied to the external genital mucosa with a [broom]stick. Prior to its known use in Europe, the psychoactive properties of henbane and its close relative datura (Datura spp.) had been employed for centuries in the East.³³³ Afghanistan in particular was known for its henbane cults and still has traditions of many drug plants, including Amanita muscaria.³³⁴

FIGURE 104. Khaṭvāṅga. Mongolian print. [Crowley]

To the east of Afghanistan, just over the Khyber Pass into Pakistan, is the Swat Valley, said by some to be the site of fabled Oḍḍiyāna, “home of the flying ḍākinīs.”³³⁵ The actual location of Oḍḍiyāna is a matter of debate, but it may be noteworthy that the folklore of the Swat Valley tells of magical, shapeshifting women endowed with the power of flight. They are called ḍenik, a likely cognate of ḍākinī.³³⁶

Oḍḍiyāna is said to be the actual origin of the tantras. To state this in more orthodox terms, the Buddha assumed the form of Vajrapāṇi to teach the tantras to a very select few of his followers. These secret teachings were then preserved in the land of Oḍḍiyana, the location of which is disputed. Some place it in Bengal, some in southern India but the majority opinion is that it was the Swat Valley in eastern Afghanistan – not far from the site of the Bactria-Margiana Archaeological Complex. Megasthenes and other ancient writers speak of a “Land of Women” in India and Indian literature contains references to “women’s kingdoms” (Skt. stīrya rājyas).

Could the ḍākinī’s “sexual” embrace of the khaṭvāṅga really have been a transdermal means of drug application? In other words, did she fly on her khaṭvāṅga as witches “flew” on broomsticks? In an essay on the sexuality of the Middle East, the Victorian explorer and translator, Sir Richard Burton, reported that Afghanistan was home to an exclusively female cult in which women indulged in ritual masturbation with sticks. If the khaṭvāṅga originated as such a staff, then this might explain why it is considered to be the ḍākinī’s male consort. Then again, it is entirely possible that Burton’s account is a sex-obsessed westerner’s distorted view of a women-only henbane cult.

The Afghanistan region was subject to a period of invasion and unrest in the seventh and eighth centuries CE that (in a manner analogous to the twentieth century Chinese invasion of Tibet) may have resulted in the dissemination of what had been a purely local cult. As this is precisely the period of the first tantric siddhas in India, it tends to validate the many Vajrayāna texts which indicate Oḍḍiyana as the origin of the tantras.

VAJRA

The vajra is, of course, Indra’s thunderbolt and is intimately involved with legends of soma. Often, especially when held by a male deity or human, the vajra on the top of a khaṭvāṅga is replaced by three flaming points, highly reminiscent of Śiva’s trident.

FIGURE 105. The vajra. Mongolian print. [Crowley]

HEADS

The three “heads” on Vajrayoginī’s khaṭvāṅga are the same size as the fifty that she wears in her garland and the five on her tiara. The size, that is, of dried mushroom caps. Stacked as if impaled upon the staff, they are: a freshly decapitated head, a decomposing head, and a skull. Or at least that is how they are depicted in paintings and sculpture. The written sources refer to them as “a fresh head,” “a drying head,” and “a dried head.” It is almost as if these tiny “heads” are in fact mushroom caps drying on a stick. Could this be the original function of an actual (as opposed to symbolic) khaṭvāṅga?

FIGURE 106. “Fresh, drying and dried” heads. Tibetan print. [Chandra]

In order to dry the mushrooms thoroughly (an essential process with A. muscaria), the caps and stems need to be separated. (This also affords an opportunity to inspect the mushroom for insect infestation.) The mushrooms would then be strung on thread and hung up to dry. The caps and stems would dry at different rates and so would be strung on separate threads.

VIŚVAVAJRA

Below the heads is the viśvavajra (“universal thunderbolt”). In sculptures, this is shown as two crossed vajras lying horizontally but due to the absence of perspective in Tibetan drawings, two-dimensional depictions show it as half of a double vajra.

If the vajra does, indeed, symbolize a psychoactive mushroom, this double vajra suggests the possibility that two kinds of mushrooms were used in combination. The two could have been Amanita muscaria and A. pantherina or even A. muscaria and Psilocybe cubensis. Although this sounds like an alarming combination, anecdotal reports claim this pairing to have spectacularly ecstatic effects.³³⁷

FIGURE 107. The viśva-vajra. [Chandra]

VASE

I can hardly begin to express the surreal incongruity of this next symbol. Has there ever been an actual, physical staff which had a vase as one of its parts? Another oddity is that, despite symbolizing “emptiness,” the vase is described as being full. Full of amṛita, that is.³³⁸ Another vase “full of amṛita” is found in the handles of ritual bells used by the sarma lineages of Tibetan Buddhism (see Plate 13).

FIGURE 108. The vase of amṛita. [Chandra]

ḌAMARU, SUN AND MOON

You can obtain Buddhahood: by taking a medicine pill, which will make you immortal like the sun and moon…

The Life of Gampopa³³⁹

FIGURE 109. Damaru. Mongolian print, detail. [Crowley]

Dangling from the khaṭvāṅga are a ḍamaru (a small hourglass-shaped “pellet drum”), a small bell, and symbolic representations of the sun and moon. The ḍamaru is another borrowing from Hinduism: it is the drum held in one of Śiva’s hands as he dances on one leg and that many be seen dangling from his trident in images of the god. Throughout India, this pair of symbols, the trident and ḍamaru, are recognized as an aniconic representation of Śiva. In its shape, the ḍamaru resembles a young Amanita muscaria in its “dumbbell” stage, before the universal veil has been ruptured (see Plate 1).

The other ornament on the khaṭvāṅga, the bell, is a more recognizable mushroom shape, its clapper being the stem. The impression of a stem is heightened as the clapper is extended by symbols of the sun and moon. The sun and moon were paradigms of immortality and are on some level, therefore, to be considered synonymous with amṛita (“deathlessness”).

The power of flight is a stereotypical ḍākinī characteristic, hence the Tibetan translation of ḍākinī as khandroma, (“sky-going-lady”). It is also possible to interpret this “flight” as a state of enhanced consciousness. After all, among hippies of the 1960s, “flying” was a common term for an LSD experience. For example, Dr. Timothy Leary used the term “flying” as a metaphor for the psychedelic experience as early as 1962.³⁴⁰

THE KHAṬVĀṄGA-KAPĀLA PAIRING

On one level, the khaṭvāṅga and skullcup, which are so often seen together, represent the separated stem and cap of the mushroom. This is not simply an “Oh, look it’s a mushroom” response; there is an actual scriptural reference to the khaṭvāṅga-kapāla pair as being amṛita in the “inner offering” of a gaṇacakra ritual of Vajrayoginī. In this meditation, one begins by imagining a khaṭvāṅga inserted top-down into a skullcup, making a simple mushroom shape, albeit inverted. In this visualization, the skullcup contains “the five meats;” the khaṭvāṅga spins on its axis and blends the “meats” together, thereby creating amṛita. Thus, at least in this instance, amṛita comes from this mushroom-shaped combination of khaṭvāṅga and skullcup. These were the two items carried by the naked sadhus of the kāpālika and kālāmukha traditions of Śaivite practice.

If Hajicek-Dobberstein is correct in his contention that the siddha Karṇaripa/Āryadeva was the Amanita muscaria fungus represented symbolically, then Karṇaripa’s inverted obeisance to Nāgārjuna is echoed in this symbolic inversion of the mushroom.

THE KNIFE (KARTRI)

In her right hand, Vajrayoginī/Vajravārāhī holds a curved knife called a kartri. This strange implement is sometimes described as “a flaying knife” and sometimes as “a chopper.” Its handle attaches at the center of the inner curve of a crescent-shaped blade that optionally has a hook on one end. This hooked end would be ideal for uprooting A. muscaria without damage and the curved blade is similarly suited to chopping A. muscaria, whether fresh or dried. It should be emphasized, however, that no evidence has yet come to light to suggest that the kartri was actually used for these functions. Certain deities (including Vajrayoginī and Vajravārāhī) may hold it inverted with the curved blade uppermost and the handle pointing down. This closely resembles the outline of a mushroom, especially in those instances where the blade is a simple curve, without the “end hook.”

In the later versions of the Vedic soma ceremony, the pravargya pot was sometimes made by a priest but often by a potter, known ritually as the kartṛi, or “maker.” Remarkably, this word is almost identical in sound to kartri, “cutter.”

FIGURE 110. The kartri. [Getty]

THE BONE APRON

Vajrayoginī/Vajravārāhī, like most ḍākinīs, wears five sets of ornaments made from human bone: a necklace, two earrings, four bracelets and anklets, an apron, and a tiara of skulls. The “apron” is a network composed of beads and other small pieces of bone. If the garland of heads represents a collection of mushroom caps strung together for drying, then the “bones” of the apron would be their stems. When dried, the stems of Amanita muscaria are very hard and could certainly stand up to being strung on threads and worn as an actual apron. Besides, such an “apron” would make a very efficient drying arrangement. (See Plate 2, “Amanita bones”).

The bone white beads of the “five ornaments” make a sharp contrast to Vajravārāhī’s blood red skin. This white-on-red color scheme is distinctly reminiscent of A. muscaria, a deep red mushroom that is “ornamented” with dots of white.

FIGURE 111. The bone apron. Mongolian print, detail. [Crowley]

MEANING

Vajrayoginī originated as the consort of Cakrasaṃvara yet soon developed her own cult as the yoginī-tantras came to overshadow the earlier yoga-tantras, probably in the seventh century CE. Her cult includes several examples of homa (the Vedic fire ritual) and bali (a food offering) that make explicit references to amṛita. Visualizing oneself as Vajrayoginī is central to several traditions of Tibetan yoga. I do not dispute the efficacy of these yogas, but I am skeptical that their success depends on the precise details of the visualized image. Conversely, the various symbolic details of Vajravārāhī-Vajrayoginī seem to make sense when considered in the context of the Amanita muscaria mushroom and the adoption of Śaiva Hindu elements by Vajrayāna Buddhists. Both these themes are hinted at in a legend recounted in a Chinese commentary on a major Buddhist tantra in which the Buddha Vairocana converts Hindu ḍākinīs to Buddhism—by eating them!³⁴¹ Would an enlightened being like Vairocana indulge in cannibalism as casually as this tantra suggests? The apparent edibility of ḍākinīs could possibly be explained by the following passage:

The various tantras prescribe different recipes for this ambrosia [amṛita], with differing effects… Particular herbal ingredients may infuse the compound with the power of the deity of the place from where they were gathered... These herbs may be medicinal panaceas and may also possess psychedelic properties. Their pharmacological qualities… are actually identified as sky-dancers [ḍākinīs]…

The Sacred Life of Tibet³⁴²

Here, the translator-lama Keith Dowman provides a wealth of vital information: Firstly, that sacred herbs may “possess psychedelic properties.” Also, both the plants themselves and their mental effects of are “actually identified” with ḍākinīs (qua “sky-dancers”). Surely, this would explain their edibility.

The notion that a certain ḍākinī might be a specific species of plant not only confirms the possibility that Vajrayoginī represents Amanita muscaria, but it casts a new light on Vajrayāna imagery. Many tantric deities are depicted in sexual union. Does this represent the intimate, nondual union of awareness and sense-field in a psychedelic state? We began this book with an illustration of a sixteen-armed Hevajra, holding a skullcup filled with amṛita in each of his hands, embracing his “wisdom” (Skt. prajña) Nairatmya (“No-self [lady]”).

Armed as we now are with the knowledge that the state induced by psychedelic plants may be depicted as an enlightened female, we may now see Figure 1 as an image of a yogic practitioner who, having quaffed a draught of amṛita, now rests in the bliss of egolessness.

______________

a The Tibetan word pronounced kagyud or kajü means “oral transmission.”

b Or eight, or ten.

c It is amusing to note that “Soo-ee,” the traditional US “hog call,” is Latin sui (vocative plural of sus), meaning “Oh, pigs.”

d Transcendent wisdom (Skt. prajña), its complementary aspect, is represented by their female consorts, in this case Vajrayoginī.

e Laghusaṃvara means “The Concise [Cakra]saṃvara[-tantra].”

f Many of the later tantras speak of a fivefold concoction of amṛitas corresponding to the “five meats” (see appendix).

g The two attendants are Vajravairocanī (“resplendent [lady],” cf. the kuleśa Vairocana) and Vajravarṇinī (“colorful [lady]”).

h Vajravārāhī’s two faces are human and sow.

i Note that, as “tribals,” the Santal were never bound by the prohibition on mushrooms that the Laws of Manu imposed on caste Hindus.

j Yamāntaka is said to be the wrathful aspect of Mañjuśrī, the bodhisattva who embodies the condition of nondual awareness (Skt., prajña).

k Vetālī is literally Revived-Corpse Lady. We might say Zombie Woman.

l Skt. vetāla; Tib. rolang (literally, “revived corpse”).

m Actual human skullcups are still a part of tantric sacramental observance and are used to hold amṛita.

n Such transposition of consonants within words may even happen spontaneously, without any deliberate attempt to disguise the meaning. Thus, the Old English words brid and drit became the modern words bird and dirt. Linguists call this phenomenon “metathesis.”

CONCLUSIONS

WHAT ARE WE TO MAKE OF ALL THIS?

In Buddhism, especially tantric Buddhism, there are methods of using substances.

Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche³⁴³

DRUGS AS GODS

ONE OF THE MOST SURPRISING elements of this research is the discovery that some of the most important Indian deities originated as apotheoses of psychedelic plants. Moreover, their myths often embody these plants’ properties in symbolic form. Beyond any doubt, Śiva was a Psilocybe mushroom, although his Vedic forerunner Rudra probably originated as a different fungus: Amanita muscaria. They are frequently conflated, nowadays being considered as one god with two names. It is likely that this came about simply because they are both mushrooms.

A. muscaria, being a mycorrhizal species, is entirely dependent on certain species of tree that act as its hosts. As India’s northern forests gradually disappeared, so did Rudra’s mushroom. Meanwhile, Śiva’s mushroom, Psilocybe cubensis, remained, popping up out of cow dung every rainy season. Thus Rudra, the Vedic mushroom god came to be forgotten, and the indigenous mushroom god Śiva came into the ascendant. We have also seen that the iconography of Vajrayoginī, one of the Vajrayāna’s most significant meditation deities, is replete with references to psychedelic mushrooms. Due to its elevation and aridity, mushrooms are scarce in Tibet but some locations, often deemed “sacred” like Mt. Tsari, are known for their psychoactive plants. That such plants and their effects are identified with dakinis such as Vajrayoginī should not surprise us given the plethora of psychedelic symbols which surround these “skywalking” goddesses.

So popular was Śiva that he was imported several times into Vajrayāna Buddhism under several different names. No doubt, this was due to the identification of Śiva with Ps. cubensis and the crucial role this mushroom played in the early tantric circles who held their rites in cemeteries. That these groups were nondenominational is attested by the fact their most prominent gurus are considered Hindu by Hindu tantrists and Buddhist by their Buddhist counterparts. As these informal gatherings crystallized into the highly formalized tantric Buddhism known as Vajrayāna, Śiva, the holy mushroom, was smuggled in, albeit under an assumed name.

Thus, did Vajrayāna Buddhism acquire its vast array of deities. Many of these are versions of Śiva, co-opted at various times and in different places, several of which have inherited his attributes and symbols. Thus, as we have seen, Avalokiteśvara bears several attributes of Rudra, the Vedic mushroom god. As far away as Japan and Korea, we may find the goddess Kannon who still carries Rudra’s flask of medicine.

But isn’t it a little strange, to say the least, to regard a mere mushroom as a deity? To confer the supreme status of divinity upon a lowly fungus? All I can say is, it’s been done before. Indigenous Mexicans who use psychedelic mushrooms of the Psilocybe genus, literally call them “God’s flesh” (teonanácatl in the Nahuatl language). This book was not the first to posit the entheogenic origins of deities, however. Clark Heinrich, to name but one researcher, pointed out in his Strange Fruit (1995) how Hindu myth describes Rudra/Śiva in terms that are equally applicable to the Amanita muscaria mushroom. I have merely continued this line of reasoning with Buddhist deities. And the results have been remarkable. Since the first edition of Secret Drugs of Buddhism, I have found scriptural statements that certain female deities found in Vajrayāna not only represent specific psychoactive plants, but also the experience which results from ingesting the plant. So, not only can we now decipher Uṣṇīṣasitā-tapatrā as being the Psilocybe cubensis mushroom, we can now speculate on the meaning of the text that says that “Uṣṇīṣa-sitātapatrā protects from oppressive kings and warlike generals.” Could it mean that the experience of the mushroom’s effects allows partakers to clearly perceive the king’s unjustness and the generals’ belligerence? Psychedelics have certainly had that effect in modern times.

DRUGS AS SACRAMENTS

It has been known for some time that drugs were used in Indian religions. The purāṇas mention Śiva’s use of cannabis, datura, and Nux vomica (source of the powerful stimulant strychnine). In addition, various tantras mention cannabis, camphor, and betel. These last three are considered aphrodisiac and are used in “tantric sex” (Skt. maithuna).³⁴⁴ Datura is also mentioned frequently, but usually only as a standard example of plausible illusions. These, however, were exoteric drugs, spoken of openly, not needing to be cloaked in secrecy.³⁴⁵ There were others besides these though, drugs that had more potential to disrupt the user’s psyche. These were not used as aphrodisiacs, nor were they used in a recreational setting. They were primarily religious sacraments and were valued for the access they provided to rarefied mental states. The earliest account of these other secret drugs occurs in the Vedas – ancient collections of sacred chants compiled around 2,500 BCE by the Ārya, Indo-European occupiers of north-west India. These verses speak in veiled terms of the mysterious soma, a plant-derived elixir of immortality that was the drink of the gods. The awe-filled tone of the hymns to soma make it quite clear that, whatever this elixir was, it was central to their notions of spirituality and the divine.

The actual religion and mythology of the Āryans seems to have been closely analogous to that of ancient Greece and Rome, with some of their deities being almost identical. But the religion as described in the Vedas has not survived; the gods and goddesses that are now worshiped in India bear no resemblance to those Āryan imports. Certain elements of the Vedic religion continued after its gods were forgotten. One of these is the fire sacrifice (Skt. agni-hotra), the ritual at which the Vedic priests would consume soma. This rite is occasionally practiced to this day by members of the Brahmin caste, lineal descendants of the ancient Vedic priesthood.

Sometime in the early middle-ages (perhaps beginning in the fifth century CE), the agni-hotra began to be practiced by members of other castes, sometimes even by members of the “untouchable” outcastes. These ritual celebrants were adherents of the new, “tantric” movement who had co-opted the fire sacrifice for their own uses. Like the Brahmins, they passed on permission to practice their rituals in a formal initiation ceremony. But, unlike the Brahminic father-to-son initiation, these initiations were performed by a tantric guru and were open to all, albeit under conditions of great secrecy. The tantric movement must have been very popular in medieval India as Hinduism, Jainism, and Buddhism all adopted its techniques and developed their own versions of tantric practice. In Buddhism, of course, this tantric tradition is known as Vajrayāna.

While I found it necessary to dwell upon the Vedic use of soma as a precursor to Buddhist amṛita, I have deliberately refrained from attempting to identify “the original, true soma.” Not only have thousands of pages already been devoted to this contentious issue, it is not the focus of this book. My interest lies in early Vajrayāna Buddhism and, in particular, the use it made of a psychoactive sacrament known as amṛita. The data presented in this book makes it quite clear that this was, at least in most instances, a mushroom that contained the alkaloids psilocybin and psilocin. Most likely, the original, Indian, species was Psilocybe cubensis although, as I have pointed out, it is probable that other, similar species were also used, especially as Vajrayāna Buddhism became popular in countries far from the tropics.a I also deem it likely that an analogue of ayahuasca was used, especially in the cult of Tārā, and psychedelic grasses may also have contributed to the mix. What is beyond doubt is that psychoactive plants albeit vascular, flower-bearing species, not necessarily mushrooms, have long been part of Tibetan spirituality. Indeed, we have seen that these plants are spoken of in terms of initiation by sky dancing goddesses and that they confer “Buddhahood without cultivation (i.e. meditation practice).”

Needless to say, I doubt that I have discovered all the drug plants that were used sacramentally in Vajrayāna Buddhism. Conversely, while I have shown, for instance, that peacocks may symbolize Psilocybe cubensis, one cannot assume that every mention of a peacock is about mushrooms. The same, mutatis mutandi, goes for all the other symbols discussed in this book. Indeed, as mentioned in the introduction, we cannot even assume that every mention of amṛita is, in fact, about amṛita. Given these professed limitations, this book can only be an initial foray; my hope is that this work may inspire others to undertake further research into this ill-explored yet rewarding territory.

BUDDHIST OBJECTIONS

After an earlier version of this book was made available online, I received several emails expressing the opinion that “real Buddhists don’t take drugs,” or more explicitly, “Buddhism is about facing reality, not escaping it with mind-altering substances.”

The first objection is an example of a logical error known as the “true Scotsman fallacy” which is best illustrated by the following dialogue:

Speaker A: No Scotsman puts sugar on his porridge.

Speaker B: But my neighbor Hamish is a Scotsman and he puts sugar on his porridge.

Speaker A: Then Hamish is not a true Scotsman as no true Scotsman would ever put sugar on his porridge.

I do not intend to enter into discussions of who is or is not a true Buddhist. This book merely attempts to document the historical evidence for the use of psychedelic plants within Buddhist traditions. Discussions regarding whether this use was “truly” Buddhist are irrelevant to the scope of this book and are of no interest to this author.

The second objection, “escaping reality,” is founded on a misunderstanding of psychedelics. They do not transport the user to some kind of fun-filled, fantastical fairyland of entertaining illusions. Rather, they allow a clearer, less deluded, mode of appreciating one’s reality. If a sincere seeker after personal insights were to take the psychedelic in a safe, supportive context, then this insight may well provide an ecstatic release from their quotidian delusions. However, should that person’s reality (either mental or physical) be less than benign, then the psychedelic will point that out with ruthless clarity and the user may even descend into a terror-filled “bad trip.” Even an uncomfortable or distressing trip in which the user confronts their own “demons” could be considered a “good trip” if it eventually leads to personal growth and increased maturity. Such grueling experiences hardly constitute an “escape from reality.”

No doubt some readers are still asking, “But what on earth would induce a sensible, sane, meditative Buddhist to derange their minds and suffer a series of surreal hallucinations?” To deal with the easy part first, psychedelics do not, in fact, induce hallucinations. Admittedly, such drugs were once called “hallucinogens” (i.e. hallucination-inducers) but this outmoded term is highly inaccurate – these drugs do not make one see things that are not there. The user may see vivid images with their eyes closed, but this can hardly be called hallucinating. Granted, one may briefly mistake a real object for something else—as in the famous Buddhist example of mistaking a coiled rope for a snake—but this sort of misapprehension happens to the soberest among us. After all, what driver has not momentarily mistaken a mailbox for a hitchhiker or a street sign for a pedestrian? Again, this is not what most people consider hallucinating. On the other hand, certain solanaceous plants, such as datura and henbane, really do induce apparitions that bear no relation to sensory input. These drugs are generally considered deliriants, and not classic psychedelics.

While the cautious reader may find these explanations reassuring, I admit that I have still not addressed the question, “Why?” One suggestion might be that these plants allow access to parts of the mind that are not normally available to our conscious minds–- the so-called “subconscious.” While this is undoubtedly true and may be very valuable in a psychotherapeutic setting, this is not the most that can be attained from a sincere, spiritual use of these plants.

Could it be that the experience provides a spiritual message or advice? While this type of experience is a real possibility, from a Buddhist point of view such messages or visions would be beside the point. Such personal revelations do occur while under the influence of a psychedelic and, admittedly, they may be powerfully transformative, this is still not the full potential of the psychedelic experience.

Some users of psychedelics (especially, it seems, DMT) report encounters with “alien entities,” in their “closed-eye visuals.” A few claim to have had “downloads of information” from themb. Is it possible that we might similarly receive teachings but from Buddhist gods and goddesses? There are several ways in which this phenomenon may be interpreted, one being that these are inhabitants of our subconscious mind, somewhat reminiscent of what the analytical psychologist Carl Jung termed “archetypes.”

Had Jung lived just a little longer – he died in 1961 – he might have added psychedelics to his list of pathways to one’s deeper, more enlightened psyche.

Heidegger and a Hippo³⁴⁶

The Tibetan Book of the Dead also speaks of encounters with transcendent entities, whether benignly divine or terrifyingly demonic, but urges us to recognize them as projections of our own mind – an attitude with which Jung would surely be in full accord. However, while confronting these archetypal entities might be useful to one’s spiritual journey, from a Buddhist standpoint they still belong to the realm of “relative truth” – the mental modality of words and concepts, of “this” and “that.” The psychedelic experience has more than this to offer.

From a yogic perspective, a truly valuable property of such psychedelic plants is that they provide a relatively easy way to experience (if the term “experience” is even valid here) the state of nonduality, the state of “bliss-void” in which one may, for instance, gaze upon a flower (and see it in profound and vivid detail) without there being any concept of “flower” or “gazing” or even “gazer.” This is a very difficult state to describe because the act of description necessarily requires the use of words and concepts, the very words and concepts that are transcended in this state. This problem is not a new one. It did not arise with the modern use of psychedelics, nor is it peculiar to the psychedelic state; it is inherent in any attempt to use words to describe the ineffable. Such descriptions can only be (to use a Buddhist metaphor) “fingers pointing at the moon.”

NO THINGS

This state that I have attempted to describe is the fundamental condition of śunyatā spoken of in the Buddhist scriptures. The Sanskrit word śunyatā is often translated as “nothingness” or “voidness,” both of which are extremely inaccurate from a philosophical point of view and are simply confusing from the experiential standpoint.

However, misleading the English word “nothingness” may be, it does provide a useful starting point, as it may be creatively deconstructed as “no-thing-ness.” A state, that is to say, in which there are no “things.” There is still “stuff” – the undifferentiated fabric of reality itself – but the mind does not busy itself with categorizing and labeling aspects of this ubiquitous “stuff” as separate “things.”

It is often mistakenly thought that Buddhism declares that the entire world is an illusion and that nothing really exists. It is not the world per se, which is illusory, but rather, it is our habitual conceptualizing of the world that is erroneous. As long as we consider our own mental projections to be “the world,” we do not engage with the world “as it is.”c

This confusion over “nothingness” and “no-thing-ness” was recognized in the early 1950s by the English scholar-mystic, Alan Watts, who said in a letter: “Negative language is used to negate, not the real world, but the adequacy of all verbal symbols for the understanding of reality. We must know God as we know the tree, not by defining it verbally or conceptually… but by immediate perception. Thus the ‘mystery’ of life is not seen as a problem to be solved but a reality to be experienced.”³⁴⁷

Even so, this no-thing-ness may still not be the ultimate psychedelic state. The recognition of śunyatā corresponds to what in Mahāyāna Buddhism is known as “the second turning of the wheel of Dharma,” but there was a “third turning.” Mahāyāna Buddhism claims that, in order to prevent people from falling into the error of nihilism (i.e., interpreting śunyatā as mere nothingness, rather than no-thing-ness), the Buddha taught the doctrine of Buddha nature. This “third turning of the wheel” describes how the most fundamental substrate of all consciousness is the enlightened mind itself.

How does this relate to the use of psychedelics? Well, it is possible while immersed in the state of no-thing-ness, to recognize the fundamental, substrate of awareness. If we do, we can see that this is none other than the basis of our ordinary mind. In fact, in some Buddhist traditions (e.g. in Zen and in Mahāmudra) it is even known as “ordinary mind.” This should not, however, be confused with the everyday mind, filled with internal chatter. Rather, it is both the basis of that superficial mentality while, at the same time, encompassing it. This is why many profound Buddhist thinkers say that we are all already enlightened.

We may liken this primordial mind to a screen upon which our thoughts appear. When we watch television or a movie, our attention is on the ever-changing spectacle, not upon the screen itself. Nevertheless, the screen is always present. This “not-seeing” of the screen is analogous to our habitual blindness with regard to the basic, nondual consciousness upon which all thoughts appear. According to Buddhist philosophy, this ignorance, in its original sense of “ignoring” is the fundamental cause of suffering and is referred to as avidya, literally “not-seeing.” Put into these terms, to become enlightened is simply to notice the “screen.”

Is the recognition of our innate Buddha nature an inevitable consequence of taking psychedelics? Most certainly not! It is only too easy to become captivated by the colorful closed-eye imagery and extravagant ideation. But no matter how exquisitely beautiful the vision, it is still in the realm of appearances; no matter how wise the insight, it remains in the realm of duality. Many people take psychedelics without ever waking up to the state of no-thing-ness, but these substances definitely make these states more easily available to us.

Psychedelics remain an uncertain method of attaining a powerful experience of recognition of the ground of being. But like psychopathic states and near-death experience, they seem to be able to induce a foretaste of the nature of mind.

Maya Yoga³⁴⁸

So, if achieving these states is not guaranteed, how can we maximize the possibility of a truly mystical experience? What may be needed is an enlightened teacher, one who is not only fully conversant with Buddhist philosophy and meditation techniques but also familiar with psychedelics. Someone who could use the psychedelic experience as an opportunity to point out the fundamental nature of mind itself.

Vajrayāna initiations usually include something called “pointing-out instructions” with which the initiating guru “points out” the nature of mind. These days, with only colored water as amṛita and the instructions given in Tibetan, few initiates derive any benefit from the ritual. It is my hope that the psychedelic experience could be used as a true initiation in the original sense, with the psychedelic drug functioning as amṛita. Perhaps this book may encourage such new, enlightened teachers to appear and make themselves available to a new generation of initiates.

WILL PSYCHEDELICS MAKE ME A GOOD PERSON?

Anyone who associates psychedelics with the hippies of the 1960s and their espousal of anti-war and civil rights movements might assume that these drugs are inextricably bound up with progressive attitudes and that the use of these substances inevitably induces a liberal, left wing outlook. While this may be true of those hippies, this may be a mere accident of history. Take, for instance, the example of Albert Hofmann, the discoverer of LSD. Robert Forte resigned from his post as president of the Hofmann Foundation when he discovered that, despite decades of exposure to LSD, Dr. Hofmann remained a convinced anti-Semite.³⁴⁹ Nor does this opinion seem to be merely a hastily formed supposition on the part of Mr. Forte as, independently of his opinions, psychedelic historian Alan Piper has documented right wing psychedelic use, citing in particular Hofmann’s friendship and philosophical reliance on the Nazi writer and theorist Ernst Junger, who took LSD many times.³⁵⁰

There is a thirst for an authentic, spiritually-oriented, psychedelic experience, which, for many, is to be found in the Peruvian Amazon with the shamanic use of a potion which goes by many names (yage, huasca, chá) but is usually known as ayahuasca. This has led so many seekers to visit the upper Amazon in search of ayahuasca-fueled enlightenment, that the entire economy of the region has been revitalized by this “ayahuasca tourism.” But the quest comes with its own peculiar perils and extreme examples of psychedelic depravity may be found in the criminal excesses of some “ayahuasca shamans” in Peru where there have been several incidences of rape and more than one mysterious death.³⁵¹

I point out these deplorable deficiencies merely to indicate that, while many people find that psychedelics show them a way of peace, love and light, this is not an inevitable process. Many, like myself, had already espoused liberal, left-wing, progressive attitudes before ever taking psychedelics and while these attitudes may have been confirmed and deepened by psychedelics, we cannot simply leave it up to the drugs and hope for the best.

So, is it possible to deliberately use psychedelic experiences toward fostering progressive attitudes? That is, can we use them to repudiate narrow-minded concerns with the betterment of a few at the expense of the many and, instead promote the betterment of all beings? I would say yes, there are several such ways.

The best of these approaches is to embrace spiritually altruistic practices such as those of Buddhism, especially the Mahāyāna. But, please note, I do not insist on a Buddhist approach. Any heart-opening practice would work, whether it be Christian, Taoist, Sufi, Shinto or whatever.d Also, we must truly take these teachings and practices into our lives and not simply wear the label “Buddhist” (or whatever) as if it were a team jersey, a means of distinguishing ourselves from “the others.” Such perversions of openheartedness lead to sectarian violence such as the persecution of the Muslim Rohingya in Myanmar at the hands of those who are “Buddhist” in name only.

With these principles in mind, I offer the following guidelines to using psychedelics as a Buddhist path.e

A BUDDHIST APPROACH TO PSYCHEDELICS

Sometime in the early 1960s, Timothy Leary read the Tibetan Book of the Dead and was struck by how well it described the psychedelic experience. My study of Buddhism has convinced me that it has much more to contribute to psychedelic exploration than this one book. Of most obvious utility are the many techniques of meditation. Then there are Buddhist ethics – very logical, no bizarre commands or prohibitions. Also, Buddhism has a history of lively debate and its philosophers have refined several sophisticated systems concerning the nature of reality.

But wait, I hear you say, “How come there are several, different philosophies? Can’t we have just one… the true one? And how about all those meditations? They may all be useful tools but the thing about tools is you have to know which one to use for the job. Which type of meditation should I take up?” Well, it all makes more sense when seen from the three perspectives known as the three “vehicles.” My own background is that of Tibetan Buddhism, a tradition that teaches all three vehicles and sees them as progressive stages on the path.

Before we start, I should point out that there is often a great deal of confusion between the Buddhist lineage called Theravada (Pali, “Way of the Elders”) and the Hinayāna (Sanskrit, “lesser vehicle”). Despite the usage of many writers, “Theravada” is not a polite way of saying “Hinayāna;” they are two different things. What I offer for your consideration below, is not the path of the Theravada school but that of the Hinayāna as that term is understood, taught and practiced within Tibetan Buddhism. While we’re splitting hairs, I should point out that this division of yānas is not universal. The Hinayāna is often divided into two: the Śravaka-yāna (“the listeners’ vehicle”) and the Pratyekabuddha-yāna (“the vehicle of solitary Buddhas”), while the Vajrayāna is sometimes included in the Mahāyāna. In the latter case, the nontantric portion of the Mahāyāna is known as the Paramita-yāna (“vehicle of perfections”). Tibet’s Nyingma tradition recognizes the two Hinayāna yānas and holds the Mahāyāna to be separate from the Vajrayāna but subdivides the Vajrayāna into six separate yānas, making nine yānas in all! Given this multiplicity of “vehicles,” it’s no wonder there was also a movement which called itself the Ekayāna (“single vehicle”). We will now consider each of the three vehicles in turn.

HĪNAYĀNA – LOGIC, ETHICS, AND AUSTERITY

The śrāvakayāna (Skt. “disciples’ vehicle”) is the most fundamental stage of practice and represents the earliest development of Buddhist thought (in the last five centuries BCE) in India, where it originated. It is also known as the Hīnayāna or “lesser vehicle”f although, as one might expect, the adherents of this path did not come up with the designation “lesser.” That came later. Traditionally, there are said to have been eighteen schoolsg in the early phase of Buddhism but there is evidence of more. The only surviving tradition that may possibly date from this early period is Theravada, found in southern Asia, although it was not included in the canonical “eighteen.”

The focus of practice in the lesser vehicle is personal liberation—enlightenment for oneself. To this end one practices meditation, keeps vows, and performs good works. The meditation accumulates a store of wisdom; the vows and good works accumulate a store of merit. Eventually, with enough wisdom and merit, one becomes enlightened.

An important feature of this vehicle is the taking of vows, known as prātimokṣa (literally, “toward liberation”). Prātimokṣa vows include the over 250 vowsh taken by monks and nuns and the five vows commonly taken by laymen. No matter to what tradition a monk or nun may belong, whether Zen, Pure Land or Tibetan, when it comes to their prātimokṣa vows they are practicing according to the “lesser vehicle.”

Common to all vehicles is a declaration of ideals known as the “refuge.” This usually takes the form of a brief verbal statement that one “takes refuge”i in the Buddha (“the awakened one”), the dharma (“teachings”), and the sangha (“community”). However, the precise meaning given to these terms varies between the yānas. In the Śrāvakayāna, “buddha” means the historical Śakyamuni Buddha, “dharma” means his discourses, the suttas, and “saṇgha” means all the Buddhist monks and nuns. But as we shall see, these meanings do not hold true within other yānas.

So, which drugs would be relevant to the Śrāvakayāna? The answer, of course, is “none.” No alcohol, no tobacco, no drugs of any kind. The whole point is that the practitioners learn to be comfortable with themselves, as they are, in their basic state.

MAHĀYĀNA – OPEN HEART; FOCUS ON OTHERS

During the first century CE, a new movement arose within Buddhism. The philosophical critique of atman (“self” or “being”) was extended from the notion of “non-self of persons” (Skt. pudgalānatman) to also consider external entities. This concept of universal voidness, the “non-self of things” (Skt. dharm-ānatman), was introduced. At the same time, the focus of practice shifted away from the me-first, personal enlightenment of the śrāvakayāna to the you-first attitude of universal enlightenment. Accordingly, it came to characterize itself as the “greater vehicle” (Sanskrit, Mahāyāna), a huge wagon capable of carrying all beings. By contrast, they designated the earlier phase of Buddhism as the “lesser vehicle” (Sanskrit, Hinayāna), like a horse that can carry only a single rider. Like the lesser vehicle, the greater vehicle is also characterized by a vow. In this case, it is the bodhisattva vow in which the practitioner vows to devote all their actions for the benefit of others. In so doing they become a bodhisattva (“enlightenment hero”) or, as it says in the ceremony, a “child of the Buddha.” This vow is repeated at least once daily and always before each session of meditation.

We saw above that practitioners of the lesser vehicle aim to accumulate wisdom and merit. A distinguishing feature of greater vehicle practice is that at the end of every session, a short “dedication” verse is recited. During this dedication, any wisdom and merit that have accrued are mentally donated to all beings.

In traditional Buddhist training, there are many meditations that develop what is known as “lovingkindness” (Skt. mettā). Some may consider that certain entactogens, such as MDMA, may be considered helpful adjuncts to attaining the state of lovingkindness required of a bodhisattva. However, while this may be true, neither meditation nor drugs may be necessary. Modern developments in neurofeedback indicate that we may be trained to generate a state of profound and universal altruism with the help of a series of precisely targeted microscopic electric signals to the brain. Note that, like the meditation and unlike MDMA, this trains us to generate this state for ourselves.

VAJRAYĀNA – RELISHING THE BLISS-VOID

Around the sixth century CE, new scriptures called tantras began to shake up India’s spiritual traditions. This “tantric movement” is difficult to define as it was not characterized by its own distinctive philosophy – Hindu tantras display Vedanta philosophy and Buddhist tantras retain their philosophy of “no-thingness.” However, we can discern similarities in rituals and meditation techniques. More significantly, specific entheogenic plants (e.g., Psilocybe spp.; Amanita muscaria) were used as sacraments and others (e.g., cannabis, camphor, datura) were also used within a ritual context. This sacramental drug use may provide a clue as to why all the tantric traditions are, more or less, secret.

In keeping with the “vehicle” metaphor, the tantric tradition within Buddhism is known as Vajrayāna or “thunderbolt vehicle,” implying speed and power.j If the Mahāyāna was a huge wagon, the Vajrayāna is an express train. My personal researches over the past twenty-odd years leads me to believe that the very “vajra” of “Vajrayāna” is a reference to psychedelic plants and that Vajrayāna is basically Mahāyāna with psychedelics.

Access to Vajrayāna texts and permission to perform its rites and meditations is restricted to those who have received an initiation from an acknowledged master (Skt. guru, Tib. lama). This initiation begins with the consumption of amṛita (the Buddhist term for the entheogenic sacrament) by the master and those being initiated. During the ceremony, the master describes certain meditations using visualization and mantra and points out the nature of mind. Finally, the initiates vow to practice the meditation every day and to keep the nature of the initiation secret.

A CAVEAT

At this point, we are expected to surrender ourselves to the expertise of the guru. This is a very delicate point and we must make very certain that the guru is as enlightened and as altruistic as he (it’s almost always a “he”) is traditionally supposed to be.k On the one hand, the practitioner is exhorted to emulate Milarepa’s obedience to Marpa or Nāropa’s devotion to Tilopa; on the other, the guru is often a tulku (officially recognized reincarnation) who attained enlightenment in a previous lifetime. But on both of these points, problems arise.

Firstly, when we examine the biographies of Marpa and Milarepa, we find that they were both written by Tsang-nyom Heruka over 300 years later than the events they describe. Of course, he could have had access to texts now lost or to an oral history but, unless these come light, there is no reason to believe that his “biographies” are anything but pious fictions. The case is worse in the case of Tilopa and Nāropa. Not only did these gurus live at an earlier date,l their biographies were composed even later, by a student of Tsang-nyom Heruka.

There are also problems with tulkus. The practice of recognizing a reincarnation of a previous teacher began with the second Karmapa in the eleventh century CE. In the West, the most celebrated example of this practice is the Dalai Lama, who functions as ruler of Tibet. What is not often realized is that there are now over 3,000 such tulkus and that many (perhaps most) of them are political appointees, selected from the children of local rulers and aristocrats. While most of these receive intense training from childhood, we cannot assume that they will necessarily be enlightened and have the practitioner’s needs foremost in their minds. And the real sacrament, amṛita, is rarely if ever used.

To sum up, we might observe that the Latin phrase caveat emptor is as relevant here as in the marketplace. But let us continue…

CONTINUING PRACTICE

Traditionally, this communal consumption of amṛita by master and initiates was repeated every month at a gaṇacakra or “tantric feast.” At these events, the meditation and mantra recitation is conducted by all present but, in addition, one is expected to indulge in tasty snacks, luxurious clothing, perfumes, and pleasant music. But, as one is reveling in these sense objects, one is enjoined to remain unattached and to simultaneously appreciate their “no-thing-ness.”

When we read historical accounts of such gaṇacakra (Tib. tsok-k’or) it is easy to interpret them as records of communal rituals using psychedelics to achieve an agreed upon spiritual goal. Just occasionally, we find that some of these well-ordered ritual sessions had quite surprising outcomes. There is, for example, the case of Longchenpa, a great yogi-philosopher of fourteenth century Tibet. When he was at a sacred spot called Chimpu, Longchenpa initiated a group of non-monastic yogins. In the subsequent gaṇacakra, some of the female participants became unexpectedly “possessed” by ḍākinīs, prophesied, gave teachings and generally acted like enlightened beings.³⁵² Perhaps the amṛita was a little more potent than expected.

STAGES IN THE PATH

All three vehicles can bring one to enlightenment but the Śravakayāna is the surest, the Mahāyāna is the most inclusive, and the Vajrayāna (using the psychedelic sacrament, amṛita) is the fastest. I see this approach as especially useful to entheogenic guides who may wish to impose some structure on path-work. One might first introduce the voyager to some elementary philosophy, teach a few meditation techniques, and (optionally) require some ethical commitments. When the voyager is well versed in those practices they might advance (perhaps with the assistance of an empathogen such as MDMA or with neurofeedback training) to the stage of altruistic heart-opening. Eventually, when fully trained in the heart-based path they may progress to their initiation into the final, cosmic, stage.

Obviously, I have presented this in purely Buddhist terms but I’m sure that it may be adapted to any other spiritual path. However, many of those embarked on entheogenic path-work take the shaman as a role model but, in my opinion, shamanism offers little guidance in the realms of ethics and altruism. I feel that this deficiency may be filled by the first two of the three “vehicles” described above.

SO, YOU WANT TO TRY PSYCHEDELICS…

Due to paranoid laws passed by ignorant legislators, psychedelic drugs are illegal in most parts of the world. Accordingly, any group that chooses to employ psychedelics, whether to access spiritual states, for psychological healing, or just to promote mental health, would need to conceal their activities from the authorities. Thus, such groups may already be out there, quietly practicing in utter secrecy. There might be one already in your hometown, in your own neighborhood, even on your own street. How would you know?

In the meantime, until you discover (or create) such a group, I suggest that you learn meditation from a good, credentialed teacher. It doesn’t have to be Buddhist meditation but do try to acquire the habit of resting the mind; it can be invaluable when traveling in unfamiliar realms of consciousness.

It is always good to arm oneself with reliable information. Never take an unfamiliar drug without researching its effects and appropriate dosage. The website erowid.org is an excellent resource in this regard, especially the many personal accounts of drug effects. Another site, entheoguide.net has much sage advice regarding guided sessions, with a special focus on those undertaken with a spiritual intent. Probably the most important consideration is to have safe, comfortable surroundings and a supportive friend or two.

There is currently an increased interest in the medicinal benefits of psychedelics and the findings of serious scientific research are slowly eroding the popular notions of psychedelics as insanity-inducing agents of depravity. Scientific and clinical studies currently being conducted by MAPS, the Beckley Foundation, Johns Hopkins University, and the University of Wales, Cardiff, are discovering new benefits afforded by psychedelics and metastudies now indicate that their threat to users’ sanity is minimal to non-existent.³⁵³ John Ehrlichman (died 1999), a White House aide under President Nixon, was quoted as having said that the “War on Drugs” was instituted merely to undermine the “blacks and hippies” who opposed the war in Vietnam.³⁵⁴

More promising still, there are several initiatives to legalize psilocybin mushrooms statewide in Oregon and California and, locally, in the city of Denver, Colorado. Perhaps, one day, we can bring about a change in the law and we will be allowed the basic human liberty of exploring our own consciousness by whatever means we deem fit—including psychedelics.

REVIVAL

The book Zig Zag Zen (subtitled Buddhism and Psychedelics) contains many excellent essays on the relevance of psychedelics to modern Buddhists.³⁵⁵ Anyone who has read thus far will realize that these earnest deliberations may be beside the point. Examples of psychedelic Buddhism can be found from the sixth century CE onwards and their precursors are even older. These traditions lasted for millennia and, as we have seen, may even continue to this day, albeit in secret.

The early twenty-first century has seen a revival of interest in psychedelics, both medically and spiritually. Studies on the effects and medical uses of psilocybin are underway worldwide and “ayahuasca tourism” is transforming the Peruvian Amazon. It is not, therefore, unthinkable that there might be a revival of the original psychedelic Buddhism. Given the fact that the consumption of amṛita was crucial to early Vajrayāna Buddhism, it is conceivable that a modern school of Buddhism might arise that incorporates the thoughtful use of psychedelics. This would not even be an innovation, but merely a return to Vajrayāna Buddhist roots. Indeed, we might even consider it an expression of tantric fundamentalism.

TIBETAN TEACHERS

The evidence presented in this book makes it quite clear that psychedelic plants once played a central role in Vajrayāna Buddhism and yet Tibetan lamas, those most responsible for the modern diffusion of this tradition throughout the world, make no mention of this.

While Chogyam Trungpa was living in England, he remarked that he would teach Vajrayāna in the West, but there was one element that he would omit, as it was likely to be misused.³⁵⁶ At the time, he lived in a hippie commune in London’s Notting Hill and I knew from personal experience that he had taken LSD with his housemates. However, while he was well aware of the benefits of LSD, he strongly disapproved of the lack of reverence afforded it by the hippies. He also said that the dutsi-rilbu pills of Tibet were more potent than the LSD he had taken. This led me to suspect, even then, that the “one element” he intended to omit was the use of psychedelic sacraments.

But there was an alternative to Trungpa’s decision. Instead of gathering many adherents to a watered-down version of Vajrayāna, he could have kept the teachings secret. That is, he could have revealed the complete, psychedelic, teachings to a few, hand-picked students. After all, this was how the tradition was practiced for centuries. In fact, it is possible that a few lamas are doing just that. In which case, how could we ever know? There are rumors, heard on both sides of the Atlantic, that a certain Tibetan lama with students in Brazil conducts gaṇacakra (Tib. tsok) ceremonies there using ayahuasca as the amṛita. I can only hope that he is not alone.

FINAL WISH

Whether by dint of their efforts alone or with the aid of the sacred amṛita, may all beings be relieved of their suffering, and may they find the sublime happiness that lies beyond the apparent duality of self and other.

FIGURE 112. A traditional end-plate for Vajrayāna texts. The symbols include a wheel and a parasol (left), a stupa (center), and a victory banner and flaming sword (right). Mongolian woodblock print, 19th century. [Crowley]

______________

a Notably Ps. liniformans, Ps. argentipes and Panaeolus cambodginiensis.

b This sounds like the Tibetan notion of gong-ter, “mind treasures.” These are teachings said to have been concealed by Padmasambhava in the field of pure mind.

c Tathata is Sanskrit for “thus-ness.” We might also translate it as “just-as-it-is-ness.”

d I would, however, caution the sincere seeker to avoid those systems that require one to take on weird beliefs (or any beliefs, for that matter).

e Of course, other religions and spiritual paths may be similarly adopted.

f Technically, the Hīnayāna also includes the pratyekabuddhayāna (“solitary Buddha vehicle”).

g The most prominent of these were the Mahāsangika, Vaibhashika and Sautantrika.

h The precise number varies between schools and between monks and nuns.

i That is, one sees these “Three Jewels” as ultimate ideals to be attained.

j It was also called the Guhyamantrayana (Skt. “secret mantra vehicle”) and the Sahajayana (Skt. “easy, or natural, vehicle”).

k Recent accusations which have surfaced regarding certain Tibetan lamas (notably Sogyal Rinpoche) have highlighted this concern.

l Nāropa is said to have been Marpa’s teacher.

PLATE 1. Amanita muscaria in various stages of growth (egg, dumbbell, parasol, and chalice). [Wiki commons]

PLATE 2. At first glance a pile of bones, these are the stems (and a few caps) of freshly picked Amanita muscaria. Perhaps this is the origin of the bone symbolism surrounding amṛita. [Heinrich]

PLATE 3. The spores of the Amanita muscaria mushroom resembles whitish-gray ash. Is this why great teachers are born from ashes, why sadhus smear themselves with ashes, and why a Buddhist prediction claims that the Hindu and god Śiva will be reborn as the Buddha “Ineffeable Ash-Lord” in the world-system called “Ash Parasol?” [Galloway]

PLATE 4. According to Hindu myth, the gods (left) and the anti-gods (right) produced various treasures by churning the ocean of milk (Skt., samudra-manthanam), the last and greatest being amṛita.

The god Vishnu appears three times in this image: (1) atop the “churning-stick” (Mt. Mandara), (2) as the pivot (his turtle avatara, and (3) as the first of the gods hauling on the “churning rope” (the nāgā-rāja Vasuki). Painting, India, 19th century. [Wiki commons]

PLATE 5. One of the treasures produced by the Churning of the Ocean was the wish-granting cow (Skt., kāmadhenu) known as Surabhi. (See page 145)

Surabhi has many human features but, most significantly, she has a peacock’s tail in addition to the expected cow’s tail. Her udder produces amṛita rather than milk. In this case, the amṛita flows over a Śiva-liṅgaṃ. Polychrome sculpture, Batu caves, India, 20th century. [Wiki commons]

PLATE 6. “Blue-clad essence of Vajrapāṇi, great wrathful being…” (See page 180)

This specimen of Psilocybe cubensis shows the characteristic blueing caused by oxidation of the psychedelic compound psilocin. Note also the discolored bump in the center of the cap. This “umbo” might be considered to be its uṣṇīṣa. [Crowley]

PLATE 7. Khadiravanī Tārā has the grayish-green color of the newly grown bark of khadira tree (Acacia catechu). This bark is rich in DMT, a potent psychedelic.

She closely resembles “Green” Tārā (Skt., Árya- or Śyama- Tārā) but whereas Green Tārā holds a single stem of blue lotus in her left hand, Khadiravanī Tārā holds one in each hand. This species of lotus, which is held by some Tārās, is a mythical ‘tree lotus” (Skt., utpala) and has no known connection to Nymphaea caerulea, the Egyptian blue lotus. Painting, Mongolia, 19th century. [Crowley]

PLATE 8. The hunter-māhāsiddha Śavari[pa]. (See page 144) Śavari sits on a tiger skin, holding a bow and arrow in a manner suggesting a mushroom.

Although no reason is ever given, he is customarily shown wearing a skirt of peacock-feathers. Minature painting. Mongolia, 19th century. [Crowley]

PLATE 9. Blue deities with white heads.

A few Vajrayāna Buddhist deities are described as having a white head on a blue body. This feature may allude to the whitish cap and blue stem of Psilocybe cubensis. (See Plate 6)

The wrathful protector deity, Lion-headed Ḍākinī (Skt., Simhamukhā, Simhavaktrā, Simhavasyā).

She dances upon one leg, crushing a corpse underfoot. Mongolian minature, watercolor on paper, 18th or 19th century. [Crowley]

PLATE 10. A Buddha known as King Nāgā-Lord (Skt., Nāgeśvararājā).

Seven nāgās surround his halo and his hands make the gesture (Skt., mudra) of “preventing lower rebirths.”

The practices of Nāgeśvararājā are said to heal our relationship with the environment. King Nāgā-Lord, Mongolian minature, watercolor on paper, 20th century. [Crowley]

PLATE 11. Rather than being equipped with a teapot-style, the traditional amṛita flask or bum-pa is held by a hollow cylinder (gilded in this example). When considered together with the neck of the flask, this feature resembles a mushroom. The spout emerges from the makara’s mouth. When complete, the bum-pa is adorned with a spray of peacock feathers and stalks of dūrvā grass (Cynodon dactylon), giving it the general appearance of a peacock. Nepal, 20th century. [Crowley]

PLATE 12. The cup used ritually for amṛita is a human skull (Skt., kapala).

The kapala’s inner surface is painted red and thus resembles the cap of Amanita muscaria in its “chalice” stage (See Plate 1). Bhutan, date unknown. [Crowley]

PLATE 13. The vajra (Tib., dorje) and bell (Skt., vajra-ghanta, Tib., dorje-drilbu) are the main ritual implements used in Vajrayāna Buddhism. This bell is of the sarma tradition. Sikkim, 1967. [Crowley]

PLATE 14. A religious scepter (Chinese, ru-yi) held by Ch’an (Japanese, Zen) masters and, occasionally, by the bodhisattva of wisdom, Mañjuśrī (see page 202)

Whereas most ru-yi have a very stylized representation of G. lucidum, this example is carved quite realistically. Aloes-wood. Chinese, 19th century. [Crowley]

PLATE 15. A drawing of Vajravarahī with an iconometric grid in red. Above and to the right of the grid, Tibetan numbers give her precise dimensions in “finger-widths.” Ink drawing, Tibet. [Getty]

PLATE 16. Rematī (Tib., Palden Lhamo) is the Buddhist equivalent of the Hindu goddess Kālī. She rides a mule, has a peacock-feathered parasol above her head, and holds a corpse between her teeth. Her two attendants are Makaravaktrā (holding the bridle) and Simhavaktrā (right). Although Simhavaktrā is normally blue with a white head (See Plate 9), she may also take a red and white form, as here. This color scheme is also seen in the sea of blood, dotted with bleached bones and gobbets of white fat, from which Rematī arises. Painted terracotta, modern, Mongolia. [Crowley]

APPENDICES

THE THREE YANAS

THE FIVE GREAT MEATS

Alan Piper, a historian of psychedelics, has written on the subject of entheogenic meat.³⁵⁷ That is, he has suggested that the flesh of certain animals, especially that of goats, may retain the psychedelic effects of the psychoactive plants on which they have fed. While this remains a fascinating suggestion, it is purely hypothetical and is based on aspects of European mythology. The thrust of this book, however, is that the “five great meats” that correspond to the five amṛitas are not animal flesh at all, but are, themselves, psychoactive plants.

It has been suggested by Robert Beer, the foremost western exponent of Tibetan art, that the five great meats” (Skt. pañca-mamsa) of Vajrayāna Buddhism’s “tantric feast” (Skt. gaṇacakra) have their origins in the Hindu myth of “The Churning of the Ocean” (Skt. samudra-mantanam) and that they also relate to the five basic castes of Hinduism (Skt. varna).³⁵⁸ He also points out their parallels in the Hindu pañca-munda (“five skulls”) ritual.

The following table illustrates these correspondences:

Vajrayāna Buddhism’s “five great meats” relate directly to three of the products of “The Churning of the Ocean:” Airavata the elephant, Uccaiḥśravas the horse, and the magical cow Surabhi, whose udders give amṛita instead of milk. The remaining two meats are human and dog, neither of which find an exact parallel in the churning myth. There are no humans in the story but the god Viṣṇu plays a central role and, as he is often depicted in human form, may be considered close enough. “Dog” draws from the same cultural milieu as the five-skull ritual. In the Vajrayāna rituals that visualize the five meats, dog-flesh occupies the northern sector of the maṇḍala, the same placement as the dog skull in the Hindu five-skull ritual.c

The maṇḍala of the five meats is often visualized within a skullcup (Skt. kapāla). In certain sādhanas, a ritual staff (Skt. khaṭvāṅga) is visualized as being inserted into the kapāla (making the shape of an inverted mushroom). The khaṭvāṅga spins and the “meats” are whirled together, blending to form an internally visualized amṛita. Thus, we see that there is a clear connection between “the five meats” and the psychoactive sacrament, amṛita.

______________

a Literally, “dog-eater.”

b Or, as we have seen, peacock.

c One might also note the anomalies in the five skull maṇḍala. Where the other three systems have elephant and cow, the pañca-munda has monkey and jackal. These variances may seem inexplicable, but we find an echo of the monkey-elephant pairing in the elephant-headed deity, Authority-Averting Gaṇapati, whose female aspect (prajña) is a monkey. (See Unlikely Foods for a discussion of this pair and of the “stream of wish-granting gems” which she drinks a from his penis.)

CHU-LEN

TIBETANS USE THE WORD CHU-LEN (literally, “taking the essence [of flowers]”)a to translate rasayāna, the Sanskrit word for “alchemy.” Many scholars analyze the word rasayāna as meaning, “the taste vehicle”³⁵⁹ or “the juice method”³⁶⁰ suggesting that Indian alchemy was more concerned with attaining enlightenment through ingesting herbs than its European counterpart.b On the other hand, equally well-informed experts maintain that, in this instance, rasa should be translated as “metallic mercury” or “quicksilver,”³⁶¹ thus clearly relating rasayāna to the Western alchemical tradition of transforming “base metals” into gold.c For our own purposes, we might just note that rasa and amṛita were so closely linked in ancient Indian thought that there was a single word, rasāmṛita which covered both meanings.

Unlike western alchemy, Tibetan chu-len says nothing about making gold, being almost entirely about plants,d many medicinal; but there are also a surprising number of psychoactive species used in this tradition. Such plants are said to be found at certain sacred sites and power places, deriving their efficacy from both the (generally arduous) pilgrimage necessary to reach the sacred location and from the presence of local deities (especially ḍākinīs). So, in the Tibetan worldview, a place is sacred because of the gods that inhabit it. The fact that mind-altering plants grow there is seen as evidence of the deities’ power. Westerners generally take precisely the other way around and assume these sites are considered sacred because of the plants that grow there.

Tibetan commentaries on this subject view both psychoactive plants and their effects as manifestations of “the ḍākinī.” This perspective is not only quite fascinating in itself, but tends to validate this book’s suggestions that (at least some) deities represent psychoactive plants.

LINGCHEN

We are told that:

Because he was given some lingchen herb by the field-protector sky-goere and her two sisters, he obtained the mundane paranormal powers, beginning with levitation.

Cult of Pure Crystal Mountain³⁶²

We have already encountered the “paranormal powers, beginning with levitation” under another name. It is a poetic trope for “the eight siddhis,” the list of which normally begins with levitation, sometimes called “the power of flight,” and sometimes the siddhi is a magic sword that confers flight.

The precise identity of the psychotropic herb lingchen, is unclear. The description of “a species of tall herb resembling a wild onion”³⁶³ is tantalizingly vague. Its name is the same as the word used for “continent” (literally “big island”) and, while it is identical to the ling in Ling Repa, the opener of Mt. Tsari,** there is no obvious connection between the two names. Dictionaries³⁶⁴ seem to identify lingchen (“greater ling?”) with the Indian grasses known as darbha, durva and kuśa, which conflicts with the notion of its being a tall onion.f

PLANT GODDESSES

Note that, while the goddess gave the plant to Kyepo, she is also the plant itself. Such khandromas were said to be identical to both the plant and to its psychoactive effects.³⁶⁵ This is a crucial point which sheds an entirely different light on the goddesses to be found in Indian Vajrayāna scriptures. The Cakrasaṃvara Tantra, for instance, lists Indian pilgrimage sites and the distinctive kind of “women” to be found at each. Each of these “women” is described in sufficient detail that the pious devotee would have no difficulty picking her out in a crowd, especially when “she is yellow and dark blue” and smells “like śirīṣa blossoms” or she is “red and yellow” and smells like a combination of jasmine and campaka flowers.³⁶⁶ Are these really “goddesses” and not plants? Of course, the (male-oriented) tantra makes it clear that if the (male) practitioner were to have sex with any of the seven “women” thus described, this sex will lead to enlightenment.

Suppose we take the giant step of assuming that these oddly-colored and strangely-scented beings are not, in fact, women and are instead psychoactive plants in coded disguise. What then, is this “sex” which leads to enlightenment? Surely, this must be a metaphor for the psychedelic experience which results from ingesting these plants. Does this mean that all tantric sex is really about drugs? While it would be foolish to generalize with insufficient evidence, it is certainly a notion that is worthy of consideration.

LUDU DORJE

Put some dewdrops

Of ludu dorje into a teapot,

Then please drink your fill,

And you will not need to undergo bad rebirths.

Tsari folk song³⁶⁷

FIGURE 113. The bright blue flowers of ludu dorje. [Crowley]

Let us return to Tibet. Another intriguing herb, known as ludu dorje,g is said to be “the most prized psychotropic” of Tibet.³⁶⁸ Huber identifies this plant as being Codonopsis convolvulacea but Dowman suggests that it may be either that species or C. ovata. This presents us with a quandary but the fact that the unrelated “snake’s head fritillary” (Fritillaria cirrhosa)h is known as “black ludu dorje” (ludu dorje nagpo) seems to indicate that the Kashmir bellflower (C. ovata)i is the plant intended, as its flower more closely resembles that of the fritillary, albeit with a paler shade of blue.

As far as this author is aware, no chemical analysis of either Codonopsis convolvulacea or C. ovata has been published but a closely related species, C. pilosula, is well-known in China, both in cooking and in medicine. The use of C. pilosula as a culinary herb might seem to discount any psychoactivity (although the same might be alleged for nutmegj) but it has been found to contain a β-carboline alkaloid called perlolyrine. This β-carboline class of alkaloids is also found in the Amazonian vine Banisteriopsis caapi; these alkaloids are important ingredients in the psychedelic brews, yage and ayahuasca. These potions often contain plants rich in the psychedelic N, N-dimethyltryptamine (DMT) which is rendered orally active when taken in combination with the β-carbolines. It is often supposed that the role of B. caapi in these potions is merely to act as monoamine-oxidase inhibitors, which render the DMT orally active. In addition to being MAO inhibitors, many β-carbolines (e.g. harmine, harmaline, tetrahydroharmine)³⁶⁹ are also known to be psychoactive themselves. Thus, while the precise psychoactivity of ludu dorje remains a mystery, it could be due to perlolyrine, either alone or in conjunction with tryptamine alkaloids, or to some novel, as-yet-unidentified compound.

Besides ludu dorje and black ludu dorje, Tibetan medical texts speak of a “white ludu dorje” (Adenophora lilifolioides). It is unrelated botanically but, like C. pilosula, has both culinary and medical uses. While it has some medicinal value, it is not known to be psychoactive. On the plus side, though, it is reputedly delicious.

CORDYCEPS

Like the mushrooms discussed elsewhere in this book, cordyceps isk a fungus (Ophiocordyceps sinensis) but it is an odd one. This fungus is a parasite that attacks larvae of the Ghost Moth (Thitarodes spp.). Once the caterpillars are infected, they rapidly turn into what appears to be wood and eventually tiny mushroom-like fruiting bodies sprout from what was once a caterpillar. This transformation is the source of its Tibetan name: yartsa gunbu (“winter worm, summer herb”).

Unlike the other mushrooms we have discussed, it is not psychedelic. It is, however, an effective stimulant and has a reputation as a tonic that improves appetite, stamina, libido, and sleeping patterns.

Cordyceps occurs in mountain pastures at altitudes between 3,000 and 5,000 meters (9,800–16,400 ft), including the alpine meadows of Mt Tsari and other sacred sites.

ḌĀKINĪ’S RADISH

The “ḍākinī’s radish” (Tib. khandro lapuk) is a tall, striking plant, the upper leaves of which form a whitish spike. It is native to southeastern Tibet (especially Mt. Tsari) and is also found in Sikkim and Bhutan at elevations between 4,000 and 4,800 metres (13,120ft–15,750ft). Botanically, it is not a radish at all but a species of rhubarb (Rheum nobile);l but when the leaves and outer stem are trimmed away, the remaining inner stem does resemble the flesh of a radish. It is valued as a medicinal plant and, as folklore identifies it with the plant that transported the Indian mahāsiddha Lawapa to the “ḍākinī’s paradise,” we may presume that it is psychoactive.³⁷⁰

FIGURE 114. Khandro lupuk, a psychoactive rhubarb. [Wiki]

CHONG ZHI AND ASHVA-DUDH

It should not be thought that all of Tibet’s “sacred substances” are psychoactive; or, for that matter, plants. Two notable exceptions are the minerals chong zhi and ashva-dudh. Like cordyceps, ashva-dudh is said to “increase life-energy and sexual strength” and advanced yogins are reputed to be able to subsist entirely on a diet of chong zhi.

Ashva-dudh is described as “a black, mineral exudate” and being much loved by Tibetan yogins.³⁷¹ Its description suggests that ashva-dudh may, in fact, be bitumen (which is known as śilajit in Ayurvedic medicine) though the few collected specimens to have been examined were thought to contain a vegetable component. Its very un-Tibetan name is undoubtedly borrowed from the phonetically identical Sanskrit word aśvadudh but as this means “wild horse,” the reason for the Tibetan name remains a mystery.

Another mystery surrounds chong zhi. To a modern Tibetan pharmacist, it just means mineral chalk, but in Classical Tibetan it carries implication of psychoactivity as this term is the standard Tibetan translation of the Sanskrit word soma, the most frequently occurring name of the divine psychedelic of the Vedas. Many other synonyms were used, of course, the most prominent being amṛita. By the time Vajrayāna Buddhism emerged, over a millennium after the Vedic period, soma and amṛita were thought of as two entirely separate substances. According to Buddhist tradition, amṛita came from churning the ocean, the soma plant grew up from the spilled sexual fluids of the goddess Rematī (aka Śri Devi) and her husband.³⁷² Note that, when this text was written, it was definitely a plant; not chalk.

SOMA RADZA

Although the Sanskrit word soma is translated into Tibetan as “chong zhi,” Tibetans also imported the word itself in the term soma radza. This is simply a Tibetan pronunciation of the Sanskrit somaraja (“royal soma”). The Sanskrit word is a common honorific of soma found in the Vedas. But somehow, in Tibetan, soma radza has acquired two meanings. It can mean either Cannabis indica or Psoralea corylifolia.³⁷³ The former is a very familiar drug plant while Ps. corylifolia is a bean used in Ayurvedic, Chinese, and Tibetan medicine. As it is a potent dopamine re-uptake inhibitor,m one might expect this plant to be psychoactive.

MISCELLANEOUS PLANTS

A common ingredient in chu-len pills is a plant called “country mallow” (Sida cordifolia), which contains the mild amphetamine ephedrine. This alkaloid takes its name from the Ephedra genus and is present in E. sinica, known as ma huang () in Chinese medicine. While the effects of Sida cordifolia may be mild when taken alone, they could be magnified if the chu-len formulation also contained a monoamine-oxidase inhibitor, such as the perlolyrine found in Codonopsis pilosula.n The reader should be warned against any experimentation in this regard as such combinations are potentially fatal.

There is one psychoactive plant that is ubiquitous in Tibet, which is neither amṛita nor chu-len, and this is white juniper (Juniperus recurva). Whenever there is any outdoor celebration, be it festival, enthronement or empowerment, there is sure to be a sang-khang burning branches of this sang-shing, literally “incense-wood.” A sang-khang (literally “incense house”) is a kind of outdoor oven, very similar in shape and construction to the Mexican chiminea although much larger and made of stone or mud-bricks. Not only is this plant burned in both Bön and Buddhist contexts but, as it is also used shamanically,³⁷⁴ it may predate both religions.

White juniper grows as a shrubby bush between elevations of 3000 and 4000 meters (9,800–13,000 ft). Its smoke is fragrant with slightly stimulating effects, though it may induce vomiting in high doses.

For the sake of completeness, we should mention that the lower slopes of Mt. Tsari are home to thickets of bamboo (Bambusa vulgaris). These plants are not only prized as pilgrims’ staves (especially those with three nodes) but are beset by religious prohibitions. It is said that they may be used only by those who have made a circuit of Mt. Tsari. Although bamboo has no known psychoactivity, surprisingly, it is used in some chu-len preparations. Also, as is well known to all patrons of Chinese restaurants, its shoots are quite edible.

______________

a Though usually spoken of in terms of flowers, chu-len also includes the ingestion of minerals such as cong zhi and ashvadudh, both of which are discussed below.

b Rasa may be translated many ways. It is “juice” (especially sugarcane juice) as well as “taste” and even, especially in the context of alchemy, “quicksilver.” However, in the Vedas, it was used as a synonym for soma, just as “amṛita” was.

c Much as Taoism saw the world as being formed of just two elements, yin and yang, western alchemy saw the world as composed of three elements: mercury, sulphur and salt.

d “Almost entirely.” The two exceptions, chalk and bitumen, are minerals.

e Tibetan uses “khandroma” (“space traveler,” “sky-goer,” “sky-walker,” or “sky-dancer”) to translate Skt. “ḍākinī.” These goddesses are discussed in detail in a later chapter.

f But see section entitled Grass, under Hayagrīva.

g Ludu dorje translates as “thunderbolt nāga demon.”

h There is an amusing concordance of meaning between the English name “snake’s head fritillary” and the Tibetan ludu dorje nagpo.

i Codonopsis ovata has the synonyms Glosocomia ovata and Wahlenbergia roylei.

j Nutmeg (Myristica fragrans) is a dangerously potent drug when taken in quantity.

k Yes, despite that final “s,” the word “cordyceps” is singular.

l It is also known as chumdong chenpo (“great rhubarb”). Some Soma Theories, above, notes that a wine made from common rhubarb (Rheum palmatum) was once proposed as soma.

m Dopamine is the main neurotransmitter involved in the brain’s pleasure/reward system.

n Any plant containing β-carboline alkaloids might function as an MAOI. The most potent such plant is Syrian rue (Peganum harmala), which is burned in Iran as a ritual fumigant (Farsi, esfand) and is known in Indian medicine. It does not grow in Tibet.

PILL INGREDIENTS

THERE WERE MANY CLASSES of pill in Tibet, including medicinal, alchemical, and magical. Those with medicinal properties have measured amounts of a few ingredients with specific healing virtues. The alchemical pills have a wide spectrum of medicinal herbs, and frequently, mercury. The magical variety, on the other hand, may have hundreds of ingredients, some present in only the most microscopic quantities, if at all. It is usual to dissolve the medicinal and alchemical pills in water, tea or alcohol. Magic pills may be ingested in this way but, they are more often merely worn as protective amulets. Here are a few examples of Tibetan pills with their ingredients.

SOMA

Early Tibetan translators of Buddhist texts were careful to retain all the nuances of the original Sanskrit. Accordingly, although the terms amṛita and soma may have been synonyms in the Vedas, they are translated into Tibetan with two distinctly different words (dutsi and chong zhi, respectively). However, while dutsi retained the original meaning of amṛita, the meaning of chong zhi in Tibetan has undergone a complete transformation.

The legend of Rematī states that the first chong zhi grew up from the fluids of her sexual intercourse,³⁷⁵ implying that, at least at one time in the history of the legend, the name chong zhi referred to a plant. However, over time it has come to mean an item not even in that vegetable kingdom: a common mineral. Modern Tibetan formularies include this Tibetan “soma” as an antacid treatment for heartburn, the main ingredient of which is calcium carbonate (calcite, chalk).³⁷⁶

Tibet also has two psychoactive plants known as soma-radza (Skt. somaraja, “royal soma”), to wit Cannabis indica and Psoralea corylifolia (see appendix Chu-len).

WHITE NECTAR PILL

Vajrayāna Buddhism has two kinds of amṛita, red and white. Accordingly, in Tibetan medicine, amṛita pills (dutsi rilbu) are also either red or white. The ingredients of the white variety have been published (and are listed below) but the composition of the red nectar pill has not. I suspect that the reason for this secrecy is that the red nectar is psychoactive.

The white nectar pill is compounded from:³⁷⁷

•Ash from a calcined fossil (Tib. Bya.rDo)

•Spiked ginger (Hedychium spicatum)

•Black salt (a Himalayan mined salt)

•Common sea buckthorn (Hippophae rhamnoides)

•Long pepper (Piper longum)

Judging by these ingredients, the white nectar pill lacks any psychoactive effects. It does have medicinal value, though: spiked ginger (Tib. zurpa karpo) is an excellent treatment for coughs.

A CHU-LEN PILL

Chu-len, the Tibetan translation of the Sanskrit rasāyana, “elixir,” literally means “extracted essence.” Chu-len pills, therefore, are made from the concentrated extracts of many medicinal plants and are thought to retain the virtues of all their constituents. It is said that, with the appropriate training, one may live without normal food, subsisting on only a few chu-len (alchemical) pills a day. To those who seek pharmacological explanations for such assertions, this might indicate that the ingredients include a stimulant (most stimulants being also appetite suppressants). While the resulting stimulation would hardly be conducive to serene meditation, at least one such herbal stimulant (Sida cordifolia) is found in some chu-len pills.

Here are the ingredients of one type of chu-len pill:

Aster | Aster flaccidus
Bamboo | Bambusa vulgaris
Banana flowers | Musa acuminata
Batrua | ?
Beautyberry | Callicarpa macrophylla
Cardamom, black | Amonum subulatum
Cardamom, green | Elletaria cardamomum
Clove | Syzigum aromaticum
Country mallow | Sida cordifolia
Gentian | Gentiana spp.
Heartleaved moonseed | Timospora cordifolia
Himalayan silver fir | Abies alba
Ironwood petals | Mesua ferrea
Lang-da flowers | ?
Lug-mig | Pedicularis diveriana
Myrobalan, belleric | Terminalia bellerica
Myrobalan, black | Terminalia chebulica
Myrobalan, emblic | Phyllanthus emblica
Nutmeg | Myristica fragrans
Orchid root | Gymnademia crassinervis
Pang-gyen | ?
Peanut | Arachis spp.
Pema kesar | lotus stamens
Rose, wild Chinese | Rosa sericea
Saffron | Carthamus tinctorius
Se-ma | Tribulus terrestris
Sundew | Drosera peltata
Tendril-leaved Solomon’s seal | Polygonatum cirrhifolium
Tsa-di | ?
Ug-chö flowers | ?
Tree-lotus | Nelumbo nucifera
Wang-lag | ?

A few of these ingredients may be psychoactive if taken in sufficient quantity but are not psychedelic. Nutmeg, for instance, may induce a state of jaw-clenching, sweaty, euphoria or a seizure, depending on dosage. While this suggests that it is better suited to the spice rack rather than the medicine cabinet, the other ingredients may modify its effects.

“Country mallow” (Sida cordifolia) contains the mild amphetamine ephedrine, known to reduce hunger, and to improve stamina and concentration. It also contains inactive phenethylamines though, once again, their activity may be modified by other ingredients, especially if they happen to be monoamine-oxidase inhibitors.

One of the principal uses of chu-len pills is to provide sustenance on certain meditation retreats in which participants eat no food.b The practice was to dissolve some chu-len in water or alcohol and take a few sips of the solution each day. Naturally, the anorectic properties of the ephedrine would assist in this kind of fast although such fasts were often undertaken with just chong-zhi (chalk).³⁷⁸

While the ingredients listed herein are primarily medicinal, chu-len pills are often compounded with additional, non-medical ingredients thought to possess magical virtues. I have omitted to list them here due to great variation between individual formulations and these “magical” ingredients follow much the same pattern as the following example.

TENDU RILBU PILL

The Tendu Rilbu pill is prepared by the Palyul branch of the Nyingma tradition of Tibetan Buddhism. This list of ingredients is taken from a description published by a Palyul community in Singapore.

It will be noted that, while the pill does contain some herbs (e.g. avadhuti grass), most of the ingredients are not substances, per se, but are objects which were in close contact with holy persons. Other frequently occurring components are microscopic fragments of pills that have already been compounded. The contents of these (in, presumably, homeopathic quantities) are not specified, being listed simply as, for instance, “Guru Padma-sambhava and his consort’s bodhicitta pills” or “Kathok monastery’s special pill.”

•Guru Padmasambhava’s great seal

•Gesar of Ling’s armor string

•Condensed pill of collected sacred objects

•Collected bone relics of Patrul Rinpoche and the previous Khyentse Rinpoche

•Terton Taksham Rinpoche’s sacred agyama objects

•The bodhicitta pills of Guru Padmasambhava and his consort

•The concentrated life pills of Guru Padmasambhava, Vimalamitra, and a host of treasure revealers

•Condensed sacred objects of Minling Trichen Yeshi Wangyal

•Chokling Kedun pills

•Sacred objects accomplished according to sādhana of Chenrezig

•Khenchen Ngaggi Wangpo’s bone relics

•Kathok Monastery’s collected sacred objects

•Kathok Monastery’s special pill

•Naropa’s bone ornaments

•Mahakala’s “sacred object”

•A “sacred object” accomplished according to sādhana of the Peaceful Māhāmāyā Tantrac

•Sacred objects accomplished according to the sādhana of the Wrathful Māhāmāyā Tantra

•Shijed White Paramita pill

•Guru Padmasambhava’s p’urba

•Precious Norsam Pill

•Life enhancing objects from Chongrong Tashitse

•The eight root medicinal substances

•The thousand types of branch medicinal substances

•Pill of The Four River Empowerment

•The negativity cleansing Mustard Pill

•Pill of condensed life substances

•Sacred soils from holy places of India and Tibet

•Khyentse’s bone relics

•Elixir pills from Rinchen Pema Shelphug

•Khyentse’s Manjusri Pills

•Thangtong Gyalpo’s beard

•Elixir pills revealed by Lochen Vairocana

•Serlo Tenpa Dargyay’s bone relics

•Khentse’s medicinal mendrup acomplished according to the Eight Injunctions of Guru Padmasambhava

•Terton Mingyur Dorje’s bone relics

•Choktrul Thupten Chokyi Nyima’s bone relics

•Kunkhyen Longchen Rabjampa’s brain relics

•Jamgon Kongtrul’s life pills and life enhancing objects

•Life enhancing pills and objects derived from Longchen Rabjampa

•Elixir pills

•Accomplished sacred objects from thirteen Kama teachings

•Accomplished sacred objects from Guru Rinpoche’s Eight Injunctions

•Khentse’s collection of Thirty-nine Mendrup

•Kuntuzangpo grass from Pemakod

•Pill accomplished after recitation of one billion hundred syllable mantras

•Collection of sacred objects from Minling monastery

•Elixir pill accomplished by Vishuda sādhana in the Karmapa monastery (Ts’ur.Phu?)

•Fortunate substances from Khentse’s Tengam

•Guru Chowang’s sacred pills

•Karma Chagme’s Kyedun pills

•Shamar Khachoed Wangpo’s bone relics

•Remaining ashes of Buddha Shakyamuni

•Elixir pill accomplished by Tsechog and Sangdu Tantra

•Dilgo Khyentse’s Khandro Sangdu sacred objects

•Khyentse’s Mendrub

•Dharma King Trisong Deutsen’s rosary

•Terton Rolpai Dorje’s Hair

•Collected bone relics of bodhisattavas

•Avadhuti grass

•Sacred objects of a thousand Vidyadharas

•Sacred objects from Zongsar’s Tengam

•Sangkhor’s accomplished substances

•Buddha Kasyapa’s Brain relics

•Sindoor of the Sacred Cemeteries

•Life substance of Ayu Khandro

•Sacred collected pills from Potala Palace

•Terton Gyurme Dorje’s accomplishment Elixir pills

•Saint Thangtong Gyalpo’s pills

•Longchod pills

•Guru Padmasambhava and his consort’s pills revealed by Terton Dudul Dorje

•Relics of Buddha Krakuchanda

•Nyingtig Life pills

•Khyentse’s collected Life pills

•Terton Mingyur Dorji’s Mendrub

•Minling Trichen Yeshi Wangyal’s pills

•Karmapa’s Black pills

•Karmapa’s sacred objects

•Hand moulded Ama Black Pills

•Rigzin Kunsang Sherap’s skull relics

•Collected fortune substance pills

•Khorwa Dhongtrug pills

•Guru Padmasambhava’s Serchab

•Previous Dudjom Rinpoche’s bone relics

•Life Substance collected from Chongrong Tashitse

•Lhacham Pemasel’s Skull relics pills

•Kagyur Kagyama’s pills

•Marpa Lotsawa’s bone relics

•Joru’s Vulture feather given by Pomra deity

•Elixir pill prepared by Kongtrul at the holy Tsari

•Elixir pill accomplished according to Gongdus Tantra by Kongtrul

•Bodhicitta pills of Gongdus Palgu

•Rigzin Terdag Lingpa’s heart relics

•Atisa Dipamkara’s bone relics

•Elixir pill prepared by Kongtrul at Yarlung Sheldrak

•Tagsig Ayu Khandro’s bone relics

•Elixir pill prepared by Kongtrul Rinpoche according to the practices of Kagye, Gongdus, and Phurba

•Mipham Rinpoche’s Rosary

•Terton Jatson Nyingpo’s Agya Pills

•Sacred objects blessed by the Eight Vidyadharas and twenty-five Chief Disciples

•Yaksha Tseu Marpo’s Armor

•Sacred objects of Karmapa XIV

•Elixir pill of Minling Trichen Yeshi Wangyal

•Elixir pill of Khyentse

•Ashes of fire rituals conducted according to Dorje Drolod

•Dharma king Trisong Deutsen’s Earrings

•Buddha Shakyamuni’s Tooth

•Sacred objects from Muksang Khachoed Sangphug

•Desheg Kundus pills

•Collected Treasure objects of various Tertons

•Kunkhyen Longchenpa’s brain sacred pills

•Lotsawa Vairocana’s accomplished life pills

•Guru Padmasambhava’s Tooth

•Shechen Pema Namgyäl’s tooth pills

•Khenpo Pedor’s bone relics

•Terton Chokling’s collected Treasure objects

•Situ Pema Nyinjed Wangpo’s bone relics

•Guru Padmasambhava’s Bodhicitta pills

•Mendrup accomplished through Kagye sādhana

•Khenchen Shantarakshita’s sacred objects

•Khyentse’s Gongter Elixir pills

•Terton Jatson Nyingpo’s pill

•Life pill accomplished by Guru Padmasambhava at Samye Chimphu

•Thekchog Dorje’s Treasure objects

•Elixir pill from Shechen Monastery

•Previous Chogtrul Rinpoche’s bone relics

•Elixir pill accomplished by Khyentse at Lhodrag

•Chogling Kagye pill

•Extracted pill from Kathok Monastery

•Sacred objects collected from Tsurphu Monastery

•Ringseld pill made from Forty different Ringsels of Buddhas and Bodhisattavas including Buddha Shakyamuni and Buddha Kashyapa

•Sangye Nyenpa’s bone relics

•Nyammed Dhagpo’s brain sacred pills

•Treasure pill accomplished by Guru Padmasambhava and his twenty-five disciples according to the Thugchen sādhana, revealed by Karmapa Rangjung Dorje

•Sacred shariram bones

•Sixteenth Karmapa’s bone relics

•Karma Chagmed’s sacred Treasure Objects

•Ringsel showered from Boudha Stupa

•Treasure Text of Shitro revealed by Terton Nyangrel

•Dorje Drak Rigzin Ngaggi Wangpo’s attire

•Karma Chagmed’s attire

•Taklung Sangay Yeshe’s Religious Robes

•Jamyang Khyentse Rinpoche’s attire

•Second Lungtok’s attire

•Dragtrul Tragthung Rolpai’s Hair

•Patrul Rinpoche’s attire

•Guru Padmasambhava’s Hair

•Protection cords of Mahasiddhas

•Manjusri incarnate Chinese Emperor’s attire

•Khenchen Shantarakshita’s Religious Robes

•Buddha Shakyamuni’s Sacred Robes

•Guru Padmasambhava and His consort’s attire

•Khandro Yeshe Tsogyäl’s attire

•Milarepa’s Meditation belt

•Kadhampa Deshek’s sacred handwritten letter

•Drubwang Palchen Duspa’s hair

•Dhagpo Tashi Namgyäl’s Hair

•Lhacham Mandarava’s attire

•Dawa Gyaltsen’s Hair

•Kongtrul Rinpoche’s attire

•Ngagchang Hungnag Mebar’s attire

•Dzogchen Ponlop’s attire

•Dogon Wangdu Nyingpo’s attire

•Gyalse Shenphen Thaye’s attire

•Collected attires of various saints and masters

•Kunkhyen Taranatha’s attire

•Dongag Choekyi Nyima’s hair

•Dudul Dorje’s attire

•Karmapa Rolpai Dorje’s attire

•Dharma King Songtsen Gampo’s letter

•Samye Katen’s attire

•Terton Jatson Nyingpo’s attire

•Dodrag Rigzin Pema Thinlay’s attire

•Khenpo Shenga’s attire

•Khedrub Karma Chagme’s shoes

•Previous Gyatrul Rinpoche’s attire.

•Shariputra’s attire.

•Kadhampa Desheg’s shoes.

•Sand from Mapham Yutso Lake.

•Karmapa Khakhyab Dorje’s attire

•Terton Migyur Dorje’s attire

•Guru Padmasambhava’s attire revealed from Yarlung Sheldrag

•Nyammed Dhagpo Rinpoche’s attire

•Nyagla Pema Dudul’s attire

•Dudul Pawo Dorje’s attire

•Terton Chogling’s attire

•Tromge Ari’s attire

•Jamyang Khyentse Rinpoche’s bone relics

•Situ Choejung’s hat

•Khyentse Choekyi Lodro’s shoes

•Do Khyentse’s hat

•Nyoshul Lungtog’s attire

•Drokhe Drubthob’s attire

•Dudjom Rinpoche’s hair

•Drubthob Thangtong Gyalpo’s attire

•Loter Wangpo’s attire

•Vairocana’s letter

•Karmapa Choeying Dorje’s attire

•Hair of Mani Lama Pemasiddhi

•Dodrag Rigzin’s Incense

•Terton Rinchen Lingpa’s hair

•Namkha Nyingpo’s hat

•Serlo Tenpa Gyaltsen’s hair

•Minling Chung Rinpoche’s attire

•Guru Padmasambhava’s Religious Robe Nyizerma

•The Tenth Drugchen’s attire

•Rigzin Jigme Lingpa’s attire

•The Sixteenth Karmapa’s attire

•Phulung Sangye Rinpoche’s hair

•Rabsel Dawa’s hair

•Khenpo Ngaga’s attire

•The Second Dzogchen Rinpoche’s attire

•Taksham Rinpoche’s hair

•Khenpo Shantarakshita’s attire

•The Ninth Drugchen’s attire

•Terton Sogyal’s attire

•Sakya Ngor Dorjechang’s Mattress

•Sachen Kunga Nyingpo’s attire

•Mipham Rinpoche’s attire

•Malotsawa’s attire

•Minling Terchen Rinpoche’s attire

•Drubthob Dhungtso Relpa’s attire

•Terton Pema Lingpa’s bone relics

•Pema Odsel Dongag Lingpa’s hair

•Dongag Choekyi Nyima’s attire

•Dzogtrul Migyur Dorje’s monk rug

•Previous Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche’s attire

•Collected attires of Saints

•Dzogchen Pema Rigzin’s attire

•Ngadag Drogon’s hair

•The Fourth Dzogchen Rinpoche’s hair

•The Third Gampo’s attire

•Hair of Khenpo Ngaga

•Karma Chagmed Rinpoche’s sacred grains and flower

•Karma Chagmed Rinpoche’s sacred grains from Yarlung Sheldrag

•Karma Pakshi’s attire

•Lhasa Jowo’s sacred attire

•Khandro Yeshe Tsogyäl’s hair

•Karmapa Khakhyab Dorje’s attire

•Jetsun Migyur Paldron’s attire

•Jamgon Mipham Rinpoche’s bone relics

•Khyentse Rabsel Dawai’s elixir

•Vairocana’s hat

•More than seven thousand ringsels from Mindroling Monastery

•Vaishravana’s Incense.

______________

a In some cases, with only the Tibetan name, it is impossible to identify the intended species.

b At least, no food that produces feces.

c The Māhāmāyā Tantra contains instructions on compounding magic pills.

d “Ringsel” is the Tibetan name (Skt., śarīra) for small, crystalline or pearl-like objects, said to be found in the cremated remains of spiritual masters.

A LARGE DOSE OF PSILOCYBIN

THE FOLLOWING IS PART OF A REPORT by a subject known as Steve E. who was a participant in the University of Wisconsin’s study, Pharmacokinetics of Psilocybin in Normal Adult Volunteers.³⁷⁹ Steve E. was given psilocybin on three separate occasions, each session being of higher dosage than the previous. The account presented here omits the first two sessions, and relates his experiences on the final, very large dose.

After experiencing the flood of emotions from dose number two and the journey of the dark soul in dose number one, I was thinking, “I have experienced my darkness, my demons, the underworld. I have purged my emotional blockage. I am ready to experience the divine. White light. Unity consciousness. Yes!”

This was not to be. Even in writing this, I am flooded with tears.

Dose number three was the most intense, powerful, horrendous, terrifying, awful experience of my life. There is no way words can fully capture the horrifying intensity of this session. In the end, it was all worth it. I entered the most profound state that has forever changed my life.

Dose three was 59 mg. I received the largest dose of psilocybin ever administered in a published FDA study. For the uninitiated to psilocybin dosing, this is a mega dose. The writer Terence McKenna dazzled his audiences with tales of doing what he called a “heroic dose” of five grams of dried mushrooms. I have been asked by many people “What does this equal in dried grams of mushrooms?” (the standard method of ingesting mushrooms). The answer: about 10 grams of dried mushrooms.

We went through the standard protocol: capsule, eye shades, headphones, lie down.

And then…holy shit! There was really no ramp up. There was no warning. There was no gradual entry into hell. Within 20 minutes of ingesting the psilocybin, I was shot directly into the infinite abyss of human suffering.

I went quickly from lying down to sitting up. I took the eye shades and headphones off. Holy shit.

I was experiencing every person who has ever walked this Earth, who has ever suffered, every person currently living, every terrible thing that has ever happened to anyone, tortured, killed, lost a child, grieved. Every emotion tied to any human who suffered was being channeled through me.

It was as if a fire hydrant of human suffering was going through me. As this was happening, I knew, “This is not me. This is not mine.”

“Why me?” I called out. “Why am I experiencing this? Why am I carrying this burden? This is not mine.”

As this was happening, I thought I was screaming out a continuous wail. Later I learned that I wasn’t, but my inner experience was that of a constant primal scream of suffering.

The intensity increased, and then at one point I saw an immense white-hot circle lying before me. I felt myself fall into this abyss. Lining the abyss were thousands and thousands of souls screaming, writhing, all suffering as I fell downward into the pit.

This phase of dose three lasted about two hours, non-stop and relentless. At some point, I moved to the floor. I don’t remember how I got there. I just remember somewhat “coming to” and out of the human suffering channel. The respite from that hell was soon followed by the next phase, my own suffering. This was not as horrendous as experiencing all of the suffering of humanity. It was just me. But it truly sucked.

Here I died, and died, and died again, hundreds of deaths of “Steve.” I was parched, down-trodden, and beaten. I was a shell of a man suffering greatly. Then I would take a drink of water and fall over and die. I’d get back up, suffer, drink water, die, over and over again.

At some point in this personal suffering as I was dying and writhing on the floor, Karen bent over and whispered, “Go deeper.”

Bam!

These were the perfect words at the perfect time. They assured me that I was okay on some level and that there was a deeper level to go to.

At about the four-hour mark, I sat straight up, breathed deeply, and witnessed the cycle of suffering that I was experiencing. It was an energetic swirl. It was happening in front of me—but I was no longer part of it. “It” was just “there.”

What happened next is the most difficult part of the entire experience to fully convey in words for its depth and transformational power.

I went from witnessing my swirl of suffering to a “place.” I saw an infinite field of gray dust and a gray sky. Sitting in this dusty plain was a frail “boneman.” Not a skeleton, but a boneman. The boneman was about two feet high sitting down. He sat cross-legged staring out at the infinite horizon. I saw him and then I became him. It was “I” that was sitting there. I was boneman.

Once I was boneman, I entered a stateless state. This stateless state was one of authority. I was pure awareness, but there was no awareness. I was pure consciousness, but there was no consciousness. There was a sense of pure wisdom and knowledge, but there was no wisdom or knowledge. It was a state of perfection, but there was no perfection. There was no desire. There was no emotion. There was no bliss. No oneness. No unity consciousness. There was nothing. This state was a perfect state. This state, which was not a state, was above all.

I came out of this place and shared a bit with Dan and Karen. I said that I felt I would need to do MDMA for PTSD from my human suffering session. I felt shell-shocked from that experience.

“Why don’t you go back in?” Karen suggested.

I closed my eyes and was instantly taken back to boneman.

I was sitting in pure presence, but there was no presence. And then boneman crumbled. He turned to dust. But “I” was still experiencing this stateless state. There was no object of “me.”

My attention then shifted and I was now looking down on human suffering. Beneath me I could see the white ring to the portal of human suffering. There was no emotion, no feeling of compassion. It meant nothing. I then glanced at the other direction. I could “see” nirvana. It meant nothing.

At one point I experimented with dipping down into different levels of consciousness. I became a lion. I then became this noble, strong Danish warrior holding a spear and overlooking a large body of water. I could feel the full sense of this consciousness. It meant nothing.

What felt right was this state of high indifference. Ultimate authority of consciousness (that was not consciousness) that was above all levels of consciousness and unconsciousness. It was above the entire realm of what we can experience as humans.

I came out of it and was back on the couch in Room 1010. I looked around. I felt good, as if I were made of pure air. There was no density to me. I felt pure and clean. I have never felt better than that moment in my life.

Everything that I had suffered through to get to the state of boneman was worth it. It felt like those moments in that state were a culmination of my entire life. Everything that I had suffered through—the birth trauma, the suicide attempts, the divorces, the failures, were all paths to get me to boneman. To experience that state was the greatest gift and the most profound experience of my life.

It was more profound than the white light, unity conscious, all-is-one experience I had on the 1,200 mcg of LSD. More profound than the spontaneous experiences of non-duality and the white light experience of my brother Mike.

But even the immensity of this experience meant nothing.

It may sound nihilistic to be in such a state of indifference to the various modes of human consciousness. But the experience has left me a greater appreciation for all the nuances of life.

There is an intricately woven tapestry to our existence. A tapestry of pain, suffering, grief, joy, love, bliss, ecstasy, and thousands of variations of these potential aspects of being human.

None of them are better or worse than the other. They are all just “there”—there for us to experience, to feel. To be alive is to embrace it all, and not put any meaning on any of it. Every experience is a fleeting moment of time. “It” is there in one moment, and in the next moment it is gone. What is left is the illusion of memory.

Where we get lost is in the stories that we create. The meaning that we assign to experiences. What I am learning is that “Nothing means anything,” and conversely, “Everything means something.”

Without meaning there is no story to an event, occurrence, or memory. Our ego-mind assigns meaning based on past experiences, filters, distortions, and lies. Meaning comes through a story—to what we attach to an event. We assign meaning to everything, but it means nothing.

Meaning is a self-manifested story constructed from the illusion of time. There is no past. There is no future. The past and the future are simply illusions of our mind. “You are a terrible, ugly person” has no more meaning than “You are the most amazing, beautiful person in the world.”

It’s not until we attach meaning to something that it exists as a story—a false story with no true meaning. Only a manifestation of the mind.

We needlessly suffer based on attached meaning. The false reality we have created from thousands of stories that have no meaning.

If we can dissolve to a state of no “I,” there is no suffering, no attachment, no seeking, no searching. We simply exist in a state of present moment awareness where all is as it should be—the perfection of existence in the moment.

From this place, our true nature (for every one of us) of pure being, pure awareness, pure love and compassion shines. Nothing means anything… just be.

Within all of this comes a realization that every one of us in this very moment (even as you read this) is awakened, enlightened, and in a state of perfection. You are already “there.” It only takes a perceptual shift, a breath of awareness, a flash of realization to discover the illusion of life.

The beautiful thing is in that moment of realization, you fully understand being awakened or enlightened means nothing. It’s the great cosmic giggle. We all want it, we all seek it, and then in a flash we realize we all already have it, and once you have it—it means nothing… HA! The perceptual shift of realization.

For me a great metaphor is this scene: You are running “late” for something. Trying to rush out the door, but, you cannot find your car keys! Where are they? You are running through the house searching, looking, beating yourself up because you don’t know where they are. “How can I be so stupid! I’m going to be late! People will be upset. I’m such a loser,” you think.

Then you stop, pause, breathe and allow a slight glance to the right and down, and you realize, in a moment of presence, that this whole time you have been holding the keys in your hand.

They have been right “there” all along. It just took a pause and a perceptual shift and BAM! What you were seeking, you held.

Enlightenment is like that. EVERYTHING we seek is like that. It’s right “there.” You already have it and you have always had it.

In this moment and in every moment of your existence you are complete, whole, perfect and awakened.

HISTORICITY - DID IT REALLY HAPPEN?

PREHISTORY

THERE EXISTS A MINORITY, albeit vociferous, opinion that denies that there ever was an Āryan invasion, claiming the Indus Valley region as the Indo-European (IE) homeland and deriving all IE languages from Sanskrit. It cannot be denied that, apart from a sharp increase in the occurrence of horse bones, there is little direct evidence for the Āryan invasion. However, while the archaeological evidence may be meager, there is evidence of IE expansion elsewhere that denies the notion of an Indian homeland. The earliest examples of Sanskrit, the language spoken by the Hindu gods, does not even come from India but from the Mitanni of the upper Euphrates-Tigris basin (1,500-1,350 BCE).³⁸⁰

The most convincing argument against an Indian origin of all IE peoples is linguistic. The inhabitants of India speak hundreds of different languages. Many of these belong to the IE language group but there exist other, utterly different languages that belong to the Dravidian and Munda families. Due to cultural interchange between neighbors, the classical Āryan language, Sanskrit, has acquired several words from these languages. Now, if all IE languages had their origin in an ancient Sanskrit mother-tongue, one would expect to find traces of these Dravidian and Munda “loan words” in European languages but no such words have yet been identified.

BUDDHA

Modern scholars have found fault with elements of the tradition story of the Buddha. For instance, it has been pointed out that the legends of his birth share elements of the mythical birth of Indra.³⁸¹ Also, details of the Buddha’s biography do not bear close scrutiny. The British historian Trevor Ling contends that the Buddha’s father cannot have been a king as, at that time, Magadha was a democratic state.³⁸² He may have been a man of importance, though, perhaps sitting as chairman of one of the local committees, or saṃgha. According to Ling, this is the origin of the Buddhist term (often spelled saṇgha) for a community of monks, nuns, or Buddhist practitioners generally.

A contrasting view is offered by the American linguist and historian Christopher Beckwith, who argues that we should rely solely on what is available from contemporary sources, whether Indian, Chinese or Greek. Ignoring later texts and scriptures, many of which may be reconstructions based upon pious fantasy, he states that terms such as or saṃgha/saṇgha (Skt./Pali, “community [of Buddhists]”) did not appear until after India was invaded by the Central Asian Scythians in the fourth century CE. The local, Indian, word for these people was Saka and Beckwith advances the notion that “Śākyamuni,” the name used by Buddhists for the historical Buddha, is actually a Sanskritized form of “Sakamuni” or “the sage of the Scythians,”³⁸³ contradicting the usual assertion that it means “the sage of the Śakyas.” This may seem a startling concept to those familiar with the usual translation but “sage of the Śākyas” requires the existence of a family, clan or tribe called Śākya, an assumption that, according to Beckwith, is unsupported by any evidence. There are monumental inscriptions (e.g. the Lumbinī stupa), stating that the structure was dedicated by “members of the Buddha’s clan,” but there is no mention of that clan’s name.

It is customary to assume that the Buddha was a historical character (even iconoclasts like Trevor Ling do not question his historicity) but parallels with non-Buddhist systems raise a suspicion that this may not be so. It is no longer believed that there was an ancient Greek poet called Homer who composed the Iliad and Odyssey. These “Homeric” epics are now understood to be compiled and refined from the compositions of many individual storytellers. Might not the teachings of “the Buddha” be analogous? Could the teachings also have been an age-old body of wisdom, analogously compiled, refined and imputed to a single, fictitious author? These teachings would have been transmitted orally but eventually, when writing systems arrived, transcribed as suttas. The earliest Buddhist art does not depict the Buddha as a person, but merely in symbolic form. In these so-called “aniconic” images, he may be shown as a parasol, an empty throne, pillar of fire or a pair of footprints. Could this be an acknowledgment that “the Buddha” was not a person in the normal meaning of the word?

There is a strange feature of the Buddha’s biography which rarely receives comment and that is its similarity to the life of Vardhaman. Also known as Mahāvira (literally, “great man”), Vardhaman was son of a king, born with the 32 major and minor signs of his body. His father, the king, consulted wise men who foretold that he was destined to become a world-ruling emperor or a great spiritual leader. The wise men advise the king that to prevent him becoming a great sage, he must keep his son distracted with amusements. This the king does until, as an adult, Vardhaman escapes from the palace, meditates in the forest and achieves enlightenment. He teaches a non-Vedic path which, he says, is called Jainism.

Anyone who knows the life of the Buddha will recognize all this as the same story. Even so, I have left out a lot of parallels such as identical personal names of characters in the biographies. Buddhism and Jainism also share many of the same symbols (e.g. a pair of footprints, the parasol, the cow hoofprint or nandi-pada, and the “śri-vatsa” symbol). Curiously, many of these symbols are also found on Indus Valley seals.

PADMASAMBHAVA

In recent years, western scholars have questioned the historicity of Padmasambhava. Some go so far as to assert that: “It is unclear whether Padmasambhava was a historical figure,”³⁸⁴ or even that if he was, his contribution to Tibetan culture was limited to the introduction of Swat Valley-style irrigation³⁸⁵ techniques and that his stay may have been brief due to “his promotion of Śaiva-influenced kāpālika practices, the modes of transgressive tantra subsumed under Mahāyoga tantra in Tibetan doxographies.”³⁸⁶ However, as we have seen in the section called Unlikely Food, the deliberately outrageous nature of the mahāyoga teachings are not so much “antinomian” as they are coded language for the use of psychedelic sacraments.

Some scholars have indicated the scarcity of references to Padmasambhava before the eleventh century.³⁸⁷ All evidence points to Tibetan aristocrat and cleric Ñangrel Ñima Özer (1136-1204) as the primary instigator of the Padmasambhava mythos, and who may have invented the notion that Padmasambhava hid texts to be discovered by later generations. These texts would become known as terma (“treasure”) and their discoverers as tertons. The following centuries saw a proliferation of terma discoveries, even including Bön scriptures.

Ñangrel’s exalted opinion of Padmasambhava was perpetuated and enhanced by Guru Chöwang (1212–1270). As Davidson noted, “the end of the [twelfth] century saw the victory of the Padmasambhava cult.” Regardless of the authenticity or otherwise of Padmasambhava history, it is noteworthy that amṛita plays a large role in the tradition of his school and especially so in the terma literature which he is alleged to have authored. A non-Buddhist era is a matter of historical record although its causes are disputed. The early ninth century saw the collapse of the powerful Tibetan empire. It is now considered more likely that the “dark age” was due to the cessation of imperial support of Buddhist institutions rather than Langdarma’s oppression.³⁸⁸ Also, later adherents of the “old school” such as Ñangrel Ñima Özer may well have exaggerated the “darkness” of the tenth century to contrast with the subsequent “golden age.”

It is seldom (if ever) mentioned that at the time Padmasambhava is said to have arrived in Tibet, Persia was being overrun by Arab armies. His homeland of Afghanistan resisted complete conversion to Islam until the late nineteenth century but at this point in history the Chinese, at least, saw the country as a buffer against the onslaught of Islam and named it the “Area of Persian Command.”³⁸⁹

Until this point, although their rulers may have been Zoroastrian, most of the Persian and Afghan populations were Buddhist. This accounts for the monumental Buddha statues at Bamiyan, Afghanistan and the fact that Buddhist place names are found as far West as the Arabian Peninsula.³⁹⁰ So, the possibility exists that the semi-legendary figure of Padmasambhava may have been created as a composite of many such immigrant teachers who fled the destruction of their homeland, looking for an environment more congenial to their imperiled religion.

MILAREPA, RECHUNGPA, GAMPOPA

Not only are there unresolved questions regarding the story of Padmasambhava, doubts have also been expressed regarding Marpa and Milarepa. Although Milarepa is thought to have lived from approximately 1052 to 1135 CE, his best-known biography was composed by someone born exactly 400 years later, in 1452. The author was a scandalously heterodox Kagyudpa monk called Sangye Gyaltsen, better known as Tsangñön Heruka (“the crazy heruka from Tsang”).a We have no way of knowing whether Tsangñön was privy to an oral tradition of Mila’s life or whether he merely elaborated upon the few details that were widely known. He also wrote the famous “Hundred-thousand Songs,” which although attributed to Milarepa, could possibly have been composed by Tsangñön himself. There is a separate, Sakya, tradition of Mila songs which, although similar, are quite different from those in the “Hundred-thousand Songs.”

Milarepa’s teacher, Marpa the translator (1012-1097), has his own biography but this, too, was written by Tsangñön. While Marpa certainly went to India and brought back the teachings and practices of Nāropa, there is serious doubt that he ever met the celebrated scholar-yogin. Tsangñön’s biography describes how Marpa studied with him in Kashmir, yet it is known that Nāropa was a Bengali, living at the other end of the Himālayas.³⁹¹ A contemporary text by the Sakya scholar Drakpa Gyaltsen (1147-1216) not only denies that they met but states that Marpa himself never claimed to have done so…

There is a song, said to be Marpa’s which make the claim [about meeting Naropa], but Ngok Chökyi Dorje, Mé-tsönpo Sönam Gyeltsen, etc, do not maintain this lyric. Instead, it was maintained by a yogin from Ngom-shö who spread it about. Many know it not to have been written by Marpa himself… [It] was written by someone with no knowledge of India, since many errors concerning the country occur in it.³⁹²

While it is possible that some errors regarding the lineage could have originated with Tsangñön Heruka, it is certain that others date from as early as the century following Marpa’s death.

It is notable, however, that some tales of Marpa and his lineage clearly relate to the use of psychedelic amṛita. From this we must assume that Tsangñön was privy to a secret amṛita tradition. It could be that this was known and practiced by teachers such as Marpa and Milarepa or that Tsangñön, the would-be mahāsiddha, merely overlaid it onto their biographies.

______________

a This “Tsangñön Heruka” claimed to represent a return to the Indian traditions of the mahāsiddha, dressing and behaving accordingly. In fact, all modern Tibetan traditions of “crazy wisdom” may be traced to this “crazy yogin” of the fifteenth century.

REFERENCES

MAP OF ASIA

PLANT DRUGS

This is a list of all plants mentioned in this book, which are or are supposed to be a drug of some kind, whether medicinal, recreational or sacramental. Some plant species mentioned in the book (e.g. Ficus religiosa, the species of the “bodhi tree”) have no known drug activity and are therefore excluded from this list. Others have been included because they are said to have magical properties and some because they are included in Tibetan chu-len preparations.

NAME | DISTRIBUTION | ACTIVITY | COMMENTS
Abies alba | Eurasia | Medicinal | Himalayan silver fir
Acacia arabica | Asia | Psychedelic | Contains DMT
Acacia catechu | Asia | Psychedelic | Contains DMT
Acacia nilotica | Asia | Psychedelic | Contains DMT
Acacia sirissa | Asia | Psychedelic | Contains DMT
Acremonium spp. | Worldwide | Psychedelic | Systemic fungus in various grass spp. Produces ergot-like alkaloids
Amanita muscaria | Northern latitudes | Deliriant, Psychedelic | Fly agaric. Needs host tree.
Argyreia nervosa | Eastern India | Psychedelic | “Hawaiian” baby woodrose
Arundo donax | Eurasia | Psychedelic | Giant reed; root bark contains DMT
Asclepius acidum | India | None | See Sarcostemma acidum
Atropa belladonna | Worldwide | Deliriant | Deadly nightshade
Bambusa vulgaris | Himalayas | Edible, chu-len | Bamboo
Banisteriopsis caapi | Amazon | Psychedelic, MAOI | yage
Cannabis indica | Old world | Psychedelic, soporific | Indian hemp
Claviceps paspali | Old world | Psychedelic, toxic | Ergot sp., possibly used in kykeon, the Eleusinian sacrament
Claviceps purpurea | Worldwide | Psychedelic, toxic | Ergot sp., original precursor to LSD
Codonopsis spp. (C. convolvulacea, C. ovata) | Himalayas | Possibly psychedelic | ludu dorje, sacred in Tibet
Copelandia cyanescens | Southern Asia | psychedelic | Mushroom
Couroupita guianensis | South America, Asia | psychedelic | Ayahuasca admixture
Datura spp. a | Worldwide | deliriant | tropane alkaloids: atropine, hyoscine (scopolamine), and hyoscyamine
Eleusine coracana | Old world | Potentially psychedelic | Millet sp. Ergot host
Ephedra sinica | Northern Eurasia | Stimulant | Ma Huang
Festuca spp. | Eurasia | Potentially psychedelic | Grasses. Hosts to Acremonium fungus
Ganoderma lucidum | Northern hemisphere | Medicinal | Mushroom. Equated with lin chi
Hordeum spp. | Eurasia | Potentially psychedelic | Grasses. Hosts to Acremonium fungus
Hyoscyamus niger | worldwide | Deliriant | Henbane
Ipomoea violacea | New World | Psychedelic | Morning glory
Juniperus recurva | Himalayas | Stimulant | Used as incense
Ling-chen | Himalayas | Possibly psychedelic | Unidentified species
Lolium temulentum | Eurasia | Potentially psychedelic | Grass. Host to Acremonium fungus
Mesua ferrea | Southern Asia | Medicinal | Ironwood petals
Mimosa pudica | Tropical. Origin: the Americas | Psychedelic | “Sensitive plant.” Contains DMT
Myristica fragrans | Asia | Deliriant, psychedelic | Nutmeg
Nelumbo nucifera | Asia | Possible psychedelic | Tree-lotus
Neolamarckia cadamba | India | Magic | Indole alkaloids
Nymphaea caerulens | North Africa | Hypnotic | Blue lotus
Ophiocordyceps sinensis | Himalayas | Stimulant | Fungus
Panaeolus cambodginiensis | Southern Asia | Psychedelic | Small, very potent mushroom. Grows only on water buffalo dung.
Panaeolus campanulatus | Southern Asia | Psychedelic | Synonym of P. papilionaceus
Panaeolus papilionaceus | Southern Asia | Psychedelic | See P. campanulatus
Papaver somniferum | Western Asia | Soporific | Opium poppy
Paspalum scrobiculatum | Bengal | Unknown intoxicant | Kodo millet
Peganum harmala | Eurasia | Tranquilizer, sedative | Syrian rue. A potent MAOI
Phalaris spp.b | Eurasia | Psychedelic | A grass genus. Species contain DMT, 5-MeO-DMT and bufotenine
Phyllanthus emblica | Southern Asia | Medicinal | Myrobalan, emblic
Poa cynosuroides | India | Potentially psychedelic | Kuśa or durva grass. Host to Acremonium fungus
Poa spp. | Northern hemisphere | Potentially psychedelic | Grasses. Hosts to Acremonium fungus
Polygonatum cirrhifolium | Asia | Medicinal | Tendril-leaved Solomon’s seal
Psilocybe cubensis | Tropics and sub-tropics | Psychedelic | Mushroom
Psilocybe mexicana | Mexico | Psychedelic | Mushroom
Psilocybe semilanceata | Northern Eurasia | Psychedelic | Mushroom
Psoralea corylifolia | Himalayas, India | Probably psychoactive | Ayurvedic, Tibetan, and Chinese medicines
Rauwolfia serpentina | India | Tranquilizer | Snakeroot
Rheum nobile | Himalayas | Possibly psychedelic | A species of rhubarb, known as khandro lapuk in Tibet
Rheum palmatum | Eurasia | Edible | Rhubarb
Ruta graveolens | Old world | None | Common rue
Saraca asoca | India | Magic, possible MAOI | Syn. Saraca confusa; Jonesia asoca
Sarcostemma acidum | India | None | Modern substitute for soma. Formerly Asclepius acidum.
Sida cordifolia | Himalayas | Stimulant | Used in chu-len
Stipa spp. | Eurasia | Potentially psychedelic | Grasses. Hosts to Acremonium fungus
Syzigum aromaticum | Tropics | Medicinal, anesthetic | Clove
Terminalia bellirica | Asia | Medicinal | Beleric myrobalan
Terminalia chebula | Asia | Medicinal | Emblic myrobalan
Terminalia chebulica | S. Asia | Medicinal | Black myrobalan
Timospora cordifolia | India | Medicinal, chu-len | Heart-leaved moonseed

______________

a The North American species Datura stramonium and D. innoxia are now found worldwide but only D. metel is indigenous to the Old World.

b For instance, Phalaris arundinacea, P. aquatica, P. brachystachys P. canariensis, P. minor, P. paradoxa, P. stenoptera, and P. truncata.

GLOSSARY

Terms in bold type indicate a separate entry.

Abhiṣeka (Skt.) Literally “sprinkling,” “aspersion.”

1. Vedic. The ceremony of appointing a king’s successor.

2. Vajrayāna. The ceremony of “empowerment,” often called an “initiation,” in which the practitioner is introduced to a specific meditation deity. During the ritual, amṛita is consumed and the visualization and mantra of the deity are revealed.

Abrus precatorius (Botany) A plant, the highly toxic seeds of which were used as weights by Indian jewelers. Called guñja in Sanskrit, it is often confused with gañja (cannabis). To make matters worse, both were called Indrāśana.

Acacia (Bot.) Genus of tree belonging to the subfamily Mimosoideae, of the family Fabaceae, many species of which contain psychedelic tryptamine alkaloids, most notably DMT.

ādi-guru (Sanskrit) “Original guru.” A title given to the founding teachers of various spiritual lineages.

ādi-nātha (Skt.) “Original lord;” “Original nātha.” The founder of the Natha lineage of Hindu tantra.

Aditī (Hindu deity) “Boundless.” Indra’s mother, her earrings dripped amṛita. Often portrayed as the “cosmic cow” whose udders give soma. (Cf. Kamadhenu)

Aitareya Brāhmaṇa (Text) A supplement to the Ṛig Veda containing instructions for priests conducting the soma fire ritual.

Amanita (Bot.) A genus of mushroom, many species of which are deadly although some (e.g. A. caesarea, A. fulva), are considered choice edibles.

Amanita muscaria (Bot.) A species of mushroom, aka fly agaric. R. Gordon Wasson’s contention that is was the original Vedic soma revived the soma debate.

amṛita (Skt.) “[The elixir of] immortality.” In the Vedas, it is a synonym for soma, the drink which kept the gods immortal. In Buddhism, it is the sacramental drink consumed at the beginning of all major rituals.

aṅguli (Skt. “digit”). “Finger[-width]” The standard unit of measure in the canonical descriptions of iconic proportions. Each individual artist uses his/her own finger for this measurement.

Argyreia nervosa (Bot.) “Hawaiian baby woodrose.” A flowering vine, native to eastern India, whose seeds contain ergine. Possibly the Vedic soma substitute called somalatā (“soma-creeper;” “soma-vine”).

ārya (Skt.) “Hospitable,” “noble.”

Ārya A group of five related tribes that migrated from the proto-Indo-European homeland into India c.2500-2000 BCE. They spoke Sanskrit and held soma rituals. These historical Āryans (note the macron over the Ā) are not the Nordic Aryans of Nazi myth.

Āryadeva (Person) Aka Karṇaripa (“one-eyed”). A siddha who was instructed in the preparation of amṛita by Nāgārjuna.

Arundo donax (Bot.) Giant reed or Spanish cane, a Mediterranean and Middle Eastern reed, used in making reeds for many musical instruments from bagpipes to clarinets. Its root-bark contains DMT.

Asclepius acidum (Bot.) An Indian creeper used to make modern “soma.” It is not psychoactive. See also Soma-latā.

Atharvaveda (Text) The fourth and latest Veda. It was composed over a period of several centuries between 1500 and 1000 BCE. It includes, inter alia, instruction on magic, medicine, and warfare.

Atropa belladonna (Bot.) The deadly nightshade plant. It contains the same deliriant tropane alkaloids as datura.

ayahuasca (Bot.) An Amazonian psychedelic concoction of several plants, principally the yage vine (Banisteriopsis caapi) and chacruna (Psychotria viridis) leaves. Also called ayahoasca, yage, daime, chá.

Azadirachta indica (Bot.) The nīm or neem tree. Although mainly known in India for its medicinal properties, it is also said that “every part of it is used for magical purposes.”

Aśokari (Skt.) “Aśoka-enemy,” the plant Jonesia aśoka. Many species of the Jonesia genus contain MAO-inhibiting β-carbolines. See also MAO and MAOI.

aśvamedha (Skt.) “Horse sacrifice.” A very ancient and elaborate Vedic ritual that was performed for kings. One of the king’s stallions was allowed to roam free for a year, after which it was slaughtered by suffocation. One of the king’s wives then mimed sex with the horse’s corpse, which was then butchered, boiled and eaten.

Avalokiteśvara (Bud.) A prominent bodhisattva popular in all Mahāyāna and Vajrayāna traditions. Originally male, he may be depicted as asexual or female in Chinese and Japanese icons.

āyutana (Skt.) “Symbol.” The form in which a deity is symbolized in certain drawings and maṇḍalas

Banisteriopsis caapi (Bot.) The yage vine. An essential ingredient in the Amazonian ayahuasca concoction.

Bardo T’ödol (Text) The Tibetan Book of the Dead, its Tibetan name means “hearing-liberator from the intermediate state [between death and rebirth].” A terma of the thirteenth century.

Bhaiṣajyaguru (Buddhist) The “medicine Buddha.” Depicted as lapis blue, holding an ear of grain in the right hand, a begging-bowl of myrobalan fruit in the left.

Bhasmacchatrā (Bud.) Sanskrit for “ash parasol.” A “world system” to be ruled by Buddha Bhasmeśvaranirghoṣa (aka Śiva).

NB: (a) Sanskrit chattra (as in bhasmacchatrā) means both “parasol” and “mushroom.” (b) The “ash” may refer to mushroom-spores.

Bhasmeśvaranirghoṣa (Bud.) Sanskrit for “ineffable ash-lord.” The name that some Buddhist texts predict the Hindu god Śiva will have after his conversion to Buddhism.

bhūcara (Skt.) Literally “going on the earth.” The bhūcara-siddhi is the ability to make “thumb-sized” magical pills.

BMAC (Archaeology) The “Bactria-Margiana Archaeological Complex.” A prehistoric culture in the Oxus Valley of Central Asia.

Buddha (Skt.) “awakened.”

1. One of several terms used when referring to the Indian teacher Gautama Siddhartha after his enlightenment.

2. Any fully enlightened being.

Buddhakapāla (Bud.) Sanskrit for “Buddha skullcup,” a meditation deity. Buddhakapāla’s tantra is so bizarre that its surreal eroticism cannot be understood literally; it demands a symbolic interpretation.

Bum.Pa (Tib.) A ritual flask for holding and pouring amṛita.

Cakrasaṃvara (Bud.) Sanskrit for “wheel sacrament,” a meditation deity; masculine counterpart of Vajrayoginī.

Cannabis indica (Bot.) Indian hemp, marijuana.

caput draconis (Astrology) Latin for “dragon’s head,” it is the ascending node of the moon – one of the two points at which the moon’s orbit crosses the plane of the ecliptic. In Indian astrology it is called Rāhu. See also cauda draconis.

cauda draconis (Astrology) Latin for “dragon’s tail.” The descending node of the moon. See also caput draconis.

Churning of the Ocean (Hindu) A mythical event wherein the gods and anti-gods collaborated in order to churn the ocean (which in those golden days, was milk, not salty water) with an inverted mountain and a giant snake. After 1,000 years of continuous churning, many treasures emerged from the ocean, including amṛita.

Ch’ing-hsiang (Ch.) “Blue-throat.” Ch’ing-hsiang Kuan Hsi Yin is the Chinese version of Blue-throat Avalokiteśvara (Skt. nīlakāṇṭha-lokeśvara).

Chakdor (Tib. C’ags.[Na.] rDo.r[Je]). The Buddhist deity Vajrapaṇi. The Hindu god Indra was also called Vajrapaṇi.

Cong.Zhi. (Tib.) “Soma.” In modern Tibetan medicine, it means “chalk.”

Couroupita guianensis (Bot.) Its Sanskrit name is nāgapuṣpa (serpent-flower). It is found in India but also in the Peruvian rainforest where it is known as ayahuma may be added to ayahuasca

ḍamaru (Skt.) A small, handheld, double-sided pellet drum. One of the symbols of Śiva.

ḍākinī (Skt.) “Flying woman.”

1. a witch

2. an enlightened woman; a female Buddha

3. a guru’s wife.

Datura metel (Bot.) A small shrub, all parts of which contain the tropane alkaloids: hyoscine (scopolamine), hyoscyamine, and atropine. Pharmacologically a deliriant, it is highly toxic. Other species of this genus are very similar.

DMT (Pharmacology) N,N,dimethyl-tryptamine. A very potent psychedelic that is found in many plant species. It normally has no effect when ingested orally, due to the enzyme mono-amine-oxidase (MAO) that destroys DMT by oxidation. This enzyme is secreted in the gut and does not come into play if the DMT is smoked or insufflated. Also, the MAO may be temporarily neutralized by a monoamine-oxidase inhibitor (MAOI), as is the case with ayahuasca.

Dreckapotheke (German) “Filth medicine.” A medieval European system in which healing herbs were given disgusting and obscene names to conceal their identities.

Emblica officinalis (Bot.) The plant known as red emblic myrobalan. It occurs in stories about alchemy and may symbolize the (bright red) Amanita muscaria mushroom. Its dried, red fruit is an important Indian medicine, a commercial red dye, and a constituent of Tibetan amṛita pills. One of its Tibetan names is a-mri-ta.

Ephedra (Bot.) A genus of shrubs whose active principle is ephedrine, a mild amphetamine. Known in Farsi as hom (cf. haoma), it is a suggested candidate for soma.

Ergine (Pharmacology) A psychedelic amide of lysergic acid, ergine has approximately 0.1 the activity of LSD.

Gampopa (Person) In Tibetan, Gam.Po.Pa, (1079-1161). A learned physician-monk who became one of Milarepa’s two main disciples.

gañja (Skt.) Cannabis indica.

gaṇacakra (Skt.) The tantric feast, in both Hindu and Buddhist tantra. Persons who have been initiated into the same deity’s maṇḍala meet each full-moon day to conduct a gaṇacakra together.

Guhyasamāja (Bud.) Sanskrit for “secret society.” A meditation deity. The Guhyasamāja Tantra is an important text in many lineages of Vajrayāna Buddhism.

guru (Skt.) Literally “heavyweight,” a guru is a spiritual teacher in tantric lineages. It should be borne in mind that a guru’s “teaching” does not consist of imparting information, but rather bringing the student to full enlightenment.

haoma (Avestan) “Juice.”

1. A sacred potion consumed during Zoroastrian fire ceremonies in ancient Persia.

2. A decoction of Ephedra consumed during modern Zoroastrian fire ceremonies. May be the same as 1.

harmaline (Pharm.) A β-carboline MAOI found in several plant species including Banisteriopsis caapi and Peganum harmala.

Harṣa-carita (Text) The Deeds of Harṣa, by Bana, a seventh century Sanskrit author. It is a florid biography of Bana’s patron, the emperor Harṣavardana.

Hyoscyamus niger (Bot.) Henbane. A solanaceous plant containing the same alkaloids as datura.

Indo-European (Linguistics) A family of languages, all descending from an assumed common ancestor (known as *proto-Indo-European), which includes the Celtic, Germanic, and Slavic languages as well as Greek, Latin, Sanskrit, Persian, and Hittite.

Indo-Iranian (Ling.) A sub-family of Indo-European languages that includes Sanskrit, Prakrit and Avestan Persian. Some modern examples of this family are Farsi, Pashto, and Hindi.

Indra (Hindu) King of the gods. Indra also had various eponyms or “by-names” including Somapati (“lord of soma”) because of his fabled appetite for this divine elixir, and Vajrapaṇi (“thunderbolt-wielder”) from his mythic role as thunder god. His vehicle is the flying elephant, Airavata. He is comparable to kings of the gods in other Indo-European cultures, such as Zeus, Jupiter, and Odin.

Indrāśana (Skt) “Indra-food.”

1. Guñja (Abrus precatorius).

2. Gañja (Cannabis indica).

Despite being unrelated and utterly dissimilar in appearance, these plants share the name

Indrāśana. The most likely reason is the confusion of guñja with gañja.

Jupiter (Roman) King of the gods, the Roman equivalent of the Hindu god Indra. His name derives from dio-pittar, “god the father.”

Jātaka (Text) A collection of stories said to relate previous lives of the Buddha. They are mostly about animals (albeit sentient, articulate animals) and bear a strong resemblance to Aesop’s Fables.

Kālacakra (Text) Skt., “time-wheel.” The name of a late (post-tenth century) tantra with an astrological theme. It has been suggested that it was an attempt to unite Buddhism and Hinduism in the face of Islam, which was beginning to make inroads into India.

Kamadhenu (Hindu) Aka Surabhī, the name Kamadhenu means “wish-milk.” The cow that was created at the Churning of the Ocean, she is depicted with a human face, human breasts, and a peacock’s tail. Her udders give amṛita rather than milk.

Kannon (Bud.) Japanese for Avalokiteśvara. The name is the Japanese pronunciation of Kuan Yin, which itself is an approximate translation of the Sanskrit original into Chinese.

kāpālika (Skt.) “Skull man.” A sect of Śiva devotees who went naked but for cemetery ash and carried a skullcup as a begging-bowl.

Karṇaripa (Person) Sanskrit: “one-eyed.” Another name for Āryadeva. He seems to be the same person as the Buddhist mahāsiddha Kāṇḥapa, although both these names may refer to the Śaiva saint, Kannapa.

kartri (Skt.) “Cutter.” A ritual curved knife held by Vajrayāna deities, especially ḍākinīs. Often described as a “flaying knife.”

kapāla (Skt.) “[Human] skull.”

kuṇḍalinī (Skt.) Literally, “coiled” [feminine]. The dormant psychic energy said to lie coiled three times around the base of the spine in the Hindu cakra system. When activated, kuṇḍalinī becomes śaktī.

lama (Tib.) Literally, “none higher,” it translates the Sanskrit guru. In Tibetan Buddhism, a lama is a spiritual teacher who is officially recognized by his lineage as a bearer of its teachings.

Mahābhārata (Text) One of the two great Indian epics. It contains the chapter known as the Bhagavad-gītā, which is assumed to be a later interpolation.

Māhāmāyā (Skt.) “Great Illusion [Lady].” A Vajrayāna goddess. The tantra which bears her name is concerned mainly with the compounding and consumption of magic pills.

Mahāmayūrī (Skt.) “Great Peahen.” A Vajrayāna goddess.

mahāsiddha (Skt.) “Great siddha.”

Mahāyāna (Skt.) “Great vehicle.” A branch of Buddhism that emphasizes altruism and the philosophy of “no-thing-ness.”

maṇḍala (Skt. “circular; round”)

1. (Bud.) A divine palace; the mentally constructed abode of a meditation deity. Maṇḍalas are three-dimensional structures, but traditional paintings show a bird’s-eye view of the palace with the roof removed in a crude approximation of perspective. Heinrich Zimmer, the first Western art historian to describe these paintings, was unaware of these stylistic conventions and misunderstood them to be merely two-dimensional diagrams.

2. (Bud.) A physical representation of the human psyche, including all possible states of consciousness.

3. (Psychiatry) Carl Jung (whose only source was Zimmer) called any radially symmetrical two-dimensional pattern “a maṇḍala.”

4. (Text) The sections of the Ṛig Veda are called maṇḍalas.

Manu (Hindu) The mythical progenitor of humanity according to the Vedas. He seems to be identical with Mannus, his counterpart in Germanic myth.

MAO (Biochem.) The enzyme monoamine-oxidase.

MAOI (Pharm.) A monoamine-oxidase inhibitor. That is, any substance which blocks, or interferes with, MAO activity.

Mārīcī (Bud.) A Vajrayāna goddess of the dawn. Her name means “light ray.” She is associated with the aśoka tree.

meditation deity (Skt. iṣṭadevatā; Tib. Yi.Dam) A deity that is visualized in tantric meditation.

Milarepa (Person) Tibetan, “Mila the cotton-wearer.” Mila was seminal figure in the eleventh century renaissance of Buddhism in Tibet. He was an advanced yogin, a student of Marpa Lotsawa and the second Tibetan teacher in the Kagyud lineage. He often gave his teachings as spontaneous songs.

Mimosa (Bot.) A genus of tree belonging to the subfamily Mimosoideae of the family Fabaceae, many species of which contain DMT.

myrobalan (Bot.) See Emblica officinalis.

Nāgārjuna (Person) A prominent mahāsiddha, he acquired the secret of amṛita from Vyāli. He probably lived in the fifth/sixth century CE.
NB: There were at least two Nāgārjunas. One (fl. first century CE) was the author of several important treatises on Mahāyāna philosophy. Tibetan tradition does not distinguish between them.

nāth (Hindi, from Skt. nātha) Literally, “lord.” A spiritual tradition founded by Matsyendranath and his disciple Gorakshanath, both of whom also appear in Vajrayāna Buddhism as mahāsiddhas.

Nelumbo (Bot.) A genus of lotus. Suggested as a candidate for soma.

nirvāṇa (Bud.) A state of non-suffering brought about by extinguishing the desire for conditions to be otherwise. See also saṃsāra.

Nux vomica (Bot.) The classic plant source of strychnine, a potent stimulant and vasoconstrictor. It is one of the drugs said to have been consumed by Śiva.

Padmasambhava (Person) A wonder-working tantric guru who visited Tibet and Bhutan in the eighth century CE. His name is Sanskrit for “lotus-born,” although this is only the name of one of his eight “manifestations.” In Tibet he is known as “Precious Teacher” (Loppön Rinpoché or Guru Rinpoché). He is said to have brought Vajrayāna teachings to Tibet and is considered the founder of the “early translation” school, aka the “ancient ones” (Tib. Ñiṅ.Ma). It is also believed that he dictated many texts to one of his consorts, Yeshe Tsogyäl, who then concealed them as terma for later discovery.

Nymphaea (Bot.) A genus of lotus. Possible candidate for soma.

Panaeolus (Bot.) A genus of mushroom, related to Psilocybe.

Papaver somniferum (Bot.) The opium poppy.

Peganum harmala (Bot.) “Syrian rue.” The seeds of this plant are rich in MAOI β-carbolines including harmine, harmaline and peganine.

Prakrit (Ling.) Sansrkit for “natural” or “ordinary.” In linguistics, the word refers to the demotic languages that succeeded Sanskrit as the speech of northern India after the Vedic period. It is also known as “Middle Indic.”

pratimokṣa (Bud.) Sanskrit for “towards liberation.” This is the term for the Śravakayāna vows taken by monks, nuns and some laymen.

Psilocybe (Bot.) A genus of mushroom. Many species of this genus are rich in the psychedelic alkaloids psilocin, psilocybin and their congeners (e.g. baeocystin, nor-psilocybin, etc.)

psilocin (Pharm.) N,N,4-hydroxy-dimethyltryptamine. A psychedelic alkaloid found in several mushroom species.

psilocybin (Pharm.) N,N,4-phosphoryloxy-dimethyltryptamine. An alkaloid found in several mushroom species. Upon ingestion, it is rapidly converted to psilocin.

Psychotria viridis (Bot.) the “chacruna” tree. Its DMT-rich leaves are an ingredient in ayahuasca.

pūtika (Hindu) A plant mentioned in commentaries to the Ṛig Veda, (its name is Sanskrit for “stinker”) tentatively identified with a Scleroderma mushroom species called putka by the Santal tribe.

Rheum palmatum (Bot.) Rhubarb. One of the more ludicrous suggestions for the Vedic soma.

Ṛig Veda (Text) The earliest and most revered of the four Vedas, composed between 1500 and 1200 BCE. Its language is an early precursor of Sanskrit known as Vedic.

Ril.Bu. (Tib.) Pill.

Ro.Lang. (Tib.) Zombie.

Rudra (Hindu) The Vedic forerunner of Śiva. His name means both “the ruddy one” and “the howler.”

rudras (Hindu) Mysterious entities mentioned in the Vedas. The references in the Yajur Veda are suggestive of mushrooms.

Ruta graveolens (Bot.) Garden rue.

sādhaka (Hindu; Buddhist) One who engages in a sādhana.

sādhana (Hindu; Buddhist) Any regular (usually daily) spiritual excercise. In tantric practice, this usually involves the visualization of a deity while reciting the deity’s mantra.

Śaiva (Skt.) Of, or pertaining to, Śiva.

śākta (Skt.) Of, or pertaining to, śaktī

śaktī (Skt.) Energy, power.

1. The awakened, energetic aspect of kuṇḍalinī.

2. The active, energetic aspect of existence.

3. The female consort of a Hindu god, especially Śiva.

Sama Veda (Text) The second of the four Vedas, comprising the verses from the Ṛig Veda that are addressed to soma (both the drink and the god). They are arranged in the order they would be chanted.

sampradaya (Skt.) A lineage of spiritual teachers. “Sect.”

saṃsāra (Bud.) The unsatisfactory state of normal human existence, characterized by a wish for conditions to be other than that which currently obtains. See also nirvāṇa.

śaṇa (Skt.) Cannabis indica.

Sanskrit (Ling.) The language that emerged from the separate (but related) dialects of the five Āryan tribes. It became the classical Indian language used in scriptures and scholarly discourse. It is also said to be the language spoken by the Hindu gods.

sannyasi (Hindi, from Skt. saṃnyāsi) A religious renunciate.

śarva (Hindu) “The archer.” A Vedic eponym for Rudra.

Śatapatha Brāhmaṇa (Text) “The Brāhmaṇa of one hundred paths.” A supplement to the Yajur Veda.

Shōkyō (Jap.) “Blue-throat.” Shōkyō Kannon is the Japanese Blue-throat Avalokiteśvara (Skt. nīlakāṇṭha-lokeśvara).

siddha (Skt.) “Adept.” The name given to enlightened masters of early Vajrayāna.

śilīndhraka (Skt.) “Wormy [thing].” One of the circumlocutions used when referring to a mushroom in Sanskrit.

Śiva (Hindu) As one of the triad of supreme deities equated with creation, preservation, and destruction, Śiva is destruction.

Śiva (Skt.) “Auspicious”) A Hindu god both of yogic austerities and of drug use (especially cannabis, datura and nux vomica).

Soma-radza (Tib.) Cannabis indica. A loan word from Sanskrit somarāja, “royal soma.”

soma (Hindu) Literally “juice,” soma was the psychoactive sacrament of Vedic ritual. Mythologically, it was the elixir that gave the gods their immortality. Most of the hymns of the Ṛig Veda are in praise of soma. The word was also used to signify the plant from which the soma drink (soma-pavamana) was pressed. See also amṛita.

Soma (Hindu) The soma sacrament viewed as a god. NB: Sanskrit has no uppercase letters. In this book, the name of the soma god is capitalized merely to avoid confusion with the soma plant or the soma drink (soma-pavamana).

soma-latā (Hindu) Sanskrit: “soma-vine;” “soma-creeper.” In the late Vedic period, the original soma-plant became increasingly hard to find. Thus, several other plants (e.g. soma-latā) were deemed to be appropriate substitutes.

soma-pavamana (Hindu) Sanskrit: “strained juice”; “purified soma.” The soma drink, as distinct from the soma plant and Soma, the god.

Sor.Ts’igs (Tib.) “Finger-width.” The standard unit of measure in the canonical descriptions of iconic proportions. It is the Tibetan translation of the Sanskrit aṅgula.

Śravakayāna (Bud,) The “disciples’ vehicle,” it focuses upon individual enlightenment, meditation and discipline.

śudra (Hindu) “Laborer” The lowest of the classic castes.

śukra (Skt.) “Clear.” A synonym of soma.

śunya (Skt.) “empty.” Śunya is Sanskrit for both “empty” and “zero.”

śunyatā (Bud.) Literally “emptiness.” A technical term in Mahāyāna Buddhism for the fundamental state of reality, devoid of mental elaboration. In other words, it is the state which obtains when we do not impose concepts, labels or names on our experience. That is, when we experience reality as it is presented directly to our senses, not as the “things” which are the mind’s constructs. Often translated as “nothingness,” śunyata might be more meaningfully rendered as “no-thing-ness.”

śvapaka (Hindu) Literally, “dog-eater.” A dalit; a member of the “untouchable” outcaste.

Suillus (Bot.) Latin for “little pig.” A genus of mushroom.

tantra (Text) A class of scripture, written in veiled language. Tantras are often deliberately transgressive, containing matters of a magical or erotic nature. Hindu, Buddhist, and Jain examples exist.

Terminalia bellirica (Bot.) A species of myrobalan eaten by the Lodha people of West Bengal “for hallucination.”

Ts’ogs.Kyi.K’or.Lo. (Tib.) The tantric feast (Skt. gaṇacakra).

Tārā (Bud.) A popular goddess also found in Hindu and Jain versions. Her name is Sanskrit for “star” (she is identified with the planet Venus) but a fanciful Buddhist etymology derives it from a verb meaning “to ferry” and thus gives the meaning “she who ferries [across the sea of saṃsāra].”

terma (Text) A “discovered” scripture in the “old translation” school of Tibet. Termas are said to have been deliberately concealed by Padmasambhava for discovery by later generations.

upaniṣad (Text) See upaniṣat.

upaniṣat (Text) Any one of several (traditionally 108) Hindu scriptures composed after the Vedas. They comprise the earliest expression of the Hindu philosophy known as Vedanta.

vaiṣṇava (Skt.) Of, or pertaining to, Viṣṇu.

vajra (Skt.) “Thunderbolt.”

1. The paramount symbol of Vajrayāna Buddhism. As a prefix to a deity’s name it indicates that this is the Buddhist version of that deity. Thus, while Bhairava is a form of the Hindu deity Śiva, Vajrabhairava is Buddhist.

2. A symbolic representation of a thunderbolt, often made of brass, often held in the right hand during Vajrayāna rituals.

3. A graphic representation of 2, often depicted in the hands of Vajrayāna deities and saints.

Vajrapāṇi (Skt.) “Thunderbolt wielder.”

1. (Hindu) An eponym of Indra, king of the gods.

2. (Bud.) A male bodhisattva with two forms:

a. A mild bodhisattva with golden skin who holds a vajra.

b. A wrathful bodhisattva with blue skin who brandishes a vajra threateningly, as a weapon.

In the Hellenistic art of Gandharva, he is often conflated with the Greek demigod Herakles.

Vajrayoginī (Bud.) The quintessential Buddhist ḍākinī. She is one of the main meditation deities of the “new translation” schools of Tibet. She is often interchangeable with Vajravārāhī, the “Vajra sow.”

Vajrayāna (Bud.) The tantric “vehicle” of Buddhism, it arose in the sixth century. Some of its earliest teachers were also identified as gurus of tantric Hindu lineages such as the Nath.

Varuna (Hindu) A Vedic god of the sky and of cosmic order.

Vedas (Text) Four books of “hymns,” which were chanted at Hindu rituals. They were composed between 1500 and 1000 BCE in an early form of Sanskrit called Vedic.

viśvavajra (Bud.) A graphic symbol composed of two crossed vajras.

Viṣṇu (Hindu) As one of the triad of supreme deities equated with creation, preservation, and destruction, Viṣṇu is preservation. He is said to appear on Earth in various forms, known as avatars. Kṛiṣṇa is probably the best-known of these avatars.

Vyali (Person) The only non-Buddhist in the Lives of the Mahāsiddhas, and did not (as far as we know) attain enlightenment. He did, however, provide Buddhists with the secret recipe for amṛita.

Yajur Veda (Text) The third of the four Vedas. There are two, entirely distinct texts with this name, known as the “White” and “Black” Yajur Vedas.

wang (Tib.) Empowerment, initiation. See Abhiṣeka.

yoga (Skt.) “Union.” Any practice which aims at uniting the individual with the totality of existence, joining “the one” with “the all.”

Yogaratnamālā (Text) A commentary on the Hevajra tantra, an important Vajrayāna scripture.

yogin (Skt.) “Yoga practitioner [male].”

yoginī (Skt.)

1. “Yoga practitioner [female].”

2. Synonym for ḍākinī.

TIBETAN TERMS

Tibetan words seldom sound as they are written so phonetic approximations are used in this book. Thus, readers will find Chenrezi rather than its startling transliteration, sP’yan.Ras.gZig.

Pronunciation | Tibetan | Meaning
Bardo T’ödol | [picture] | Tibetan Book of the Dead
bumpa | [picture] | amṛita flask
Chenrezi | [picture] | Avalokiteśvara
chu-len | [picture] | Tibetan alchemy
chumdong chenpo | [picture] | “giant rhubarb,” the plant Rheum nobile
chong zhi | [picture] | soma, chalk
Dorje P’urba | [picture] | Vajrakila (god)
Drölma | [picture] | Tārā (goddess)
Dug Karmo | [picture] | White Umbrella (goddess)
dutsi | [picture] | amṛita
dutsi rilbu | [picture] | amṛita pill
dzogchen | [picture] | great completion
gongter | [picture] | “mind treasure”
Guru Chöwang | [picture] | name of a lama
Guru Rinpoche | [picture] | Padmasambhava
Gyajin | [picture] | Indra (god)
gyalpo | [picture] | king
Kagyud | [picture] | Oral Lineage
khandro da-yik | [picture] | ḍakinī alphabet
khandroma | [picture] | ḍakinī
khandro lapuk | [picture] | “ḍakinī’s radish,” the plant Rheum nobile
Khorlo Dechok | [picture] | Cakrasaṃvara
kunkhyen | [picture] | omniscient
Kyungpo Naljor | [picture] | name of a lama
lama | [picture] | guru
Langdarma | [picture] | name of a king
lhamayin | [picture] | asura
lingchen | [picture] | name of a plant
Loppön Rinpoché | [picture] | Padmasambhava
ludu dorje | [picture] | name of a plant
ludu dorje karpo | [picture] | name of a plant
ma-mo | [picture] | type of female demon
Michikpa | [picture] | Karṇaripa, a siddha
Milarepa | [picture] | name of a yogin
Ñong-drol | [picture] | liberation through taste
Nyangrel Nyima Özer | [picture] | name of a lama
Nyingma | [picture] | Ancient (Lineage)
Orgyen | [picture] | place-name
Pema Lingpa | [picture] | name of a terton
purba | [picture] | kila
Rechungpa | [picture] | name of a yogin
repa | [picture] | cotton-wearer
rilbu’i ngödrup | [picture] | the siddhi of making pills
Ritrö Wangchuk | [picture] | Savaripa (an Indian siddha)
Ritröpa | [picture] | Savaripa (an Indian siddha)
rolang | [picture] | zombie
Sabari | [picture] | Savaripa (an Indian siddha)
Sakya | [picture] | Gray Earth (Lineage)
samamga | [picture] | Mimosa pudica
Samye | [picture] | A place
sang-shing | [picture] | Juniper recurvans
sang tri | [picture] | secret instructions
sarma | [picture] | New (Lineages)
Savaripa | [picture] | Savaripa (an Indian siddha)
sengden | [picture] | Acacia catechu
sha-mo | [picture] | mushroom
soma radza | [picture] | 1. Psoralea corylifolia 2. Cannabis indica
Songtsen Gampo | [picture] | A king of Tibet
Tamdin | [picture] | Hayagrīva
terma | [picture] | a “treasure text”
terton | [picture] | one who discovers a terma
Totori Ñentsen | [picture] | name of a king
Trisong Detsen | [picture] | name of a king
tsok khor | [picture] | tantric feast
tummo | [picture] | yoga of “inner heat”
wang | [picture] | empowerment
yartsa gunbu | [picture] | cordyceps fungus
Yeshe Tsogyäl | [picture] | Padmasambhava’s Tibetan consort

ILLUSTRATION CREDITS

My warmest thanks go to all who have granted permission to use their images. I am especially indebted to Dr. Lokesh Chandra who graciously permitted me to reproduce any amount of material from his voluminous published works.

Sources of the illustrations are indicated in their captions as follows:

Heinrich | Clark Heinrich
deKorne | Jim deKorne
Getty | Getty Research Images
Chandra | Dr. Lokesh Chandra
Crowley | Author’s private collection
Public domain | Public domain
Wiki | Wiki commons
Galloway | Gantt Galloway

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Abbott, J. E. and N.R. Godbole, Stories of Indian Saints, Translation of Mahipati’s Marathi Bhaktivijaya. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1982.

Ardussi, J. A., “Brewing and Drinking the Beer of Enlightenment in Tibetan Buddhism: the Doha Tradition in Tibet,” Journal of the American Oriental Society (97.2), 1977.

Aris, Michael, Bhutan, the Early History of a Himalayan Kingdom. Warminster, England: Aris & Phillips, Ltd. 1979.

____. Hidden Treasures and Secret Lives, a Study of Pemalingpa (1450-1521) and the Sixth Dalai Lama (1683-1706). London & New York: Kegan Paul, 1969.

Badiner, Allan and Alex Grey, (editors), Zig Zag Zen, Buddhism and Psychedelics, San Francisco: Chronical Books, 2002; New (Revised) Second Edition, Santa Fe, NM: Synergetic Press. 2015.

Baker, Ian A., The Heart of the World: A Journey to Tibet’s Lost Paradise, New York: Penguin, 2004.

Banerjee, P., Brief History of Tantra Literature, Calcutta: Naya Prakash, 1989

Barron, R. (translator), The Autobiography of Jamgön Kongtrul: A Gem of Many Colors, Ithaca, New York: Snow Lion, 2003.

Basham, A. L., The Wonder That Was India: A survey of the history and culture of the Indian sub-continent before the coming of the Muslims, New Delhi: Rupa (reprint), 1981.

____.The Origins and Development of Classical Hinduism, New York: Oxford University Press, 1991.

Baum, Dan, “Legalize It All, How to win the war on drugs,” Harper’s Magazine, April 2016

Beckwith, Christopher I., Greek Buddha: Pyrrho’s Encounter with Early Buddhism in Central Asia, Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 2015.

Beer, Robert, The Encyclopedia of Tibetan Symbols and Motifs, Boston: Shambhala, 1991.

Bennett, Chris, Cannabis and the Soma Solution, Walterville, Oregon, 2001.

Bey, H. and A, Zug (editors), Orgies of the Hemp Eaters, New York: Autonomedia, 2004.

Beyer, Stephan, The Cult of Tārā. Magic and Ritual in Tibet, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1973.

Bharati, A., The Tantric Tradition, London: Rider, 1965.

Bhattacharyya, Benoytosh, The Indian Buddhist Iconography, mainly based on the Sādhanamālā and cognate tantric texts of rituals, Calcutta: Firma K. L. Mukhopadhyay, 1958.

Bhattacharrya, N. N., History of the Tantric Religion: An Historical, Ritualistic and Philosophical Study, New Delhi: Manohar, 1999.

von Bibra, Baron Ernst, (H. Scheiffer, translator), Plant Intoxicants: A Classic Text on the Use of Mind-Altering Plants, Rochester, VT: Healing Arts Press, 1995.

Birnbaum, Raoul, The Healing Buddha, London: Rider, 1979.

Boord, Martin J., The Cult of the deity Vajrakīla, Tring, England: Inst. of Buddhist Studies, 2004.

Briggs, George Weston, Gorakhnāth and the Kanphata Yogis, Delhi, Motilal Banarsidass, 1989.

Bryant, E. F., Krishna: the Beautiful Legend of God: Śrīmad Bhāgavata Purāna, Bk X, London: Penguin Books, 2003.

Burlingame, E. W. (translator), Buddhist Parables, Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1991.

Cabezón, I. and R.R. Jackson(editors), Tibetan Literature: Studies in Genre, Ithaca, New York: Snow Lion, 1996.

Cathcart, Thomas and Daniel Klein, Heidegger and a Hippo Walk Through Those Pearly Gates, New York, Viking, 2009.

Chandra Das, S. see under Das, below.

Chandra, Lokesh, a) Introduction to English version of Indo-Tibetica by Giuseppe Tucci (1998) and b) Thousand-Armed Avalokitesvara, New Delhi, Abhinav Publications, 1991

____. Buddhist Iconography (Compact edition), New Delhi: International Academy of Indian Culture and Aditya Prakashan, 1991.

____. Dictionary of Buddhist Iconography, Volumes 1 through 15, New Delhi: Aditya Prakashan, 1999-2005.

Chang, Garma C. C. (translator), The Hundred Thousand Songs of Milarepa, in 2 Vols., Boulder, Colorado: Shambhala, 1977.

____. Esoteric Teachings of Tibetan Tantra, York Beach, Maine: Samuel Weiser, 1982

Cheetham, E., “The Stupa at Amarāvati,” The Middle Way, Journal of the Buddhist Society, London: Vol. 66, No.4, February 1992.

Cleary, Thomas (trans.), The Flower Ornament Scripture: A Translation of the Avatamsaka Sutra, Boston: Shambhala, 1984, 1993.

Clements, Jonathan, A History of the Silk Road, London: Armchair Traveller’s History, 2017

Cicero, Marcus Tullius, (P.G. Walsh, translator), The Nature of the Gods, Oxford: Oxford University Press World Classics, 1998.

Conze, Edward, Buddhism, a Short History, Oxford: Oneworld Publications, 1993.

Cook, Francis H., Hua-Yen Buddhism: The Jewel Net of Indra, New York: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1977.

Czaplicka, M. A., Shamanism in Siberia (1914), http://www.sacred-texts.com/sha/sis/ [retrieved November 18th, 2014].

Dalton, J. B., The Taming of the Demons, Violence and Liberation in Tibetan Buddhism, New Haven, Connecticut: Yale University Press, 2011.

Damron, Ryan, The King of Tantras, the Glorious Mahāmāyā, Śrīmahāmāyātantrarājanāma, Dharmachakra Translation Committee, http://read.84000.co/translation/toh425.html, 2013.

Daniélou, Alain, The Myths and Gods of India, Rochester, NY: Inner Traditions, Bear & Co., 1991.

Das, Sarat Chandra, A Tibetan-English dictionary with Sanskrit synonyms, Calcutta: Bengal Secratariat Book Depot, 1902.

____. Tibetan-English Dictionary, Kyoto: Rinsen Book Company, 1983.

Dash, Vidya Bhagwan, Illustrated Materia Medica of Indo-Tibetan Medicine, Delhi: Classics India Publication, 1987.

Davidson, Ronald M., “Preliminary Studies on Hevajra’s Abhisamaya and the Lam-‘bras Tshogs-bshad” in Tibetan Buddhism:

____. Reason and Revelation, (SUNY Series in Buddhist Studies) edited by Steven D. Goodman and Ronald M. Davidson, Albany, NY: State University of New York Press, 1992.

____. “The Bodhisattva Vajrapāṇi’s Subjugation of Śiva,” in Religions of India in Practice, edited by Donald S. Lopez, Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1995.

____. Indian Esoteric Buddhism: A Social History of the Tantric Movement, New York: Columbia University Press, 2003.
Tibetan Renaissance. Tantric Buddhism in the rebirth of Tibetan culture, New York: Columbia University Press, 2005.

Delmonico, Neal, “How to Partake in the Love of Kṛṣṇa,” in Religions of India in Practice, edited by Donald S. Lopez, Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1995.

Dey, Kanny Lall and William Mair, The Indigenous Drugs of India: Short Descriptive Notices of the Principal Medicinal Products Met With in British India, London: Thacker, Spink and Co., 1896.

DiValerio, David M., The Holy Madmen of Tibet, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015.

Doniger, Wendy, The Hindus, An Alternative History, London: Penguin Press, 2009. (See O’Flaherty, W.D.)

Dowman, K eith, Masters of Mahamudra: Songs and Histories of the Eighty-Four Buddhist Siddhas (SUNY Series in Buddhist Studies), Albany, NY:. State University of New York Press, 1985.

____. The Sacred Life of Tibet, London: Thorsens, 1997.

____. Guru Pema Here and Now:The Mythology of the Lotus-Born Middletown, DE: Dzogchen Now! Books, 2015.

Dowson, John, A Classical Dictionary of Hindu Mythology, London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, Ltd., 1968.

Dubois, J. A., and Henry K. Beauchamp (translator), Hindu Manners Customs and Ceremonies, Mineola, (Facsimile reprint of the 1905 edition), NY: Dover Publications, 2002.

Dyczkowski, Mark S. G., The canon of the Śaivāgama and the Kubjik˜a Tantras of the western Kaula tradition, Albany, NY: State University of New York Press, 1988.

Edgerton, Franklin, Buddhist Hybrid Sanskrit Grammar and Dictionary, New Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 2004.

Eggeling, J. (translator), Satapatana Brāhmana (Sacred Books of the East, Vols. 12, 26, 24, 37, 47, New Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1882-1900.

Egyed, Alice, The Eighty-four Siddhas. A Tibetan Blockprint from Mongolia, Budapest: Akadémia Kiadó, 1984.

Eliade, Mircea, The Forge and the Crucible: The Origins and Structures of Alchemy, London: Rider, 1962; and 2nd Edition, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1978.

English, Elizabeth, Vajrayogini: Her Visualization, Rituals, and Forms, Somerville, MA: Wisdom Publications, 2002.

Farrow, George W. and I. Menon, The Concealed Essence of the Hevajra Tantra, with the Commentary Yogaratnamala, New Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1992. Flattery, David Stephen and Martin Schwartz, “Haoma and Harmaline: The Botanical Identification of the Indo-Iranian Sacred Hallucinogen ‘Soma’ and its Legacy in Religion, Language and Middle Eastern Folklore,” Near Eastern Studies, Volume 21, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989.

Foltz, Richard C., Spirituality in the Land of the Noble. How Iran Shaped the World’s Religions, Oxford: Oneworld, 2004.

Fournet, Arnoud, “About the Mitanni Aryan Gods,” Journal of Indo -European Studies, Vol. 38 (1–2): 26–40. Washington, DC, 2010.

Frye, Stanley (translator), Nagarjuna’s A Drop of Nourishment for People and The Jewel Ornament/A Commentary, translated from the Mongolian, New Delhi: Library of Tibetan Works & Archives, 1994.

Germano, David and Janet Gyatso, “Longchenpa and the Possession of the Ḍākinīs,” in Tantra in Practice, edited by David G. White, Princeton & Oxford: Princeton University Press, 2000.

Getty, Alice, The Gods of Northern Buddhism, Their History and Iconography, (Facsimile Reprint of 2nd edition, 1928), Mineola, NY: Dover Publications, 1988.

Ghosh, Mallar, Development of Buddhist Iconography of Eastern India: A Study of Tārā, Prajñās of Five Tathāgathas and Bhṛikuṭī, New Delhi: Munshiram Manoharlal Publishers, 1980.

Goodman, Steven D., “How Jigs-med Ling-pa Revealed the Long Chen Nying Thig Treasure,” in Dzogchen Community News, Issue 3, “West Coast,” 1987.

Goodman, Steven D. and Ronald M. Davidson (editors), Tibetan Buddhism, Reason and Revelation (SUNY Series in Buddhist Studies), Albany, NY: State University of New York Press, 1992.

Graves, Robert, Food for Centaurs: Stories, Talks, Critical Studies, Poems, Garden City, NY: Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1958.

____. The Greek Myths, 2nd ed., Mt. Kisco, NY: Moyer Bell, 1960 (reprinted 1988).

Gray, David B., “Eating the Heart of the Brahmin: Representations of alterity and the formation of identity in tantric Buddhist discourse,” History of Religions, Volume 45 n1, University of Chicago Press, 2005.

____. “Skull Imagery and Skull Magic in the Yogini Tantras,” Pacific World Journal, Third Series Number 8, 2006.

____. The Cakrasaṃvara Tantra (The Discourse of Śrī Heruka) A Study and Annotated Translation, New York: American Institute of Buddhist Studies and Wisdom Publications in association with Columbia University Center for Buddhist Studies and Tibet House USA, 2007.

Griffith, Roland R., W.A. Richards, U. McCann and R. Jesse, “Psilocybin can occasion mystical-type experiences having substantial and sustained personal meaning and spiritual significance,” Psychopharmacology, Volume 187, #3, August 2006, pp 268-283.

Griffith, Ralph T. H. (translator), The Texts of the White Yajur Veda, Benares: E.J. Lazarus, 1899, The Internet Sacred Text Archive, CD-ROM 8.0, Vol. 1.

____. The Hymns of the ṚgVeda, (revised edition), New Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1973.

Gyatso, Janet, “Drawn from the Tibetan Treasury: The Gter-ma Literature” in Tibetan Literature: Studies in Genre, edited by José Ignacio Cabezón and Roger Jackson, pp147-169, Ithaca, NY: Snow Lion, 1996.

____. “A Partial Genealogy of the Lifestory of Ye shes mtsho rgyal,” JIATS no. 2 (August 2006), Online at http://www.thlib.org/collections/texts/jiats/#!jiats=/02/gyatsoj/all/ [retrieved February 8th, 2014].

Hajicek-Dobberstein, S., “Soma siddhas and alchemical enlightenment: psychedelic mushrooms in Buddhist tradition,” Journal of Ethnopharmacology 48, Hague: Elsevier, 1995.

Harper, K. A. and Robert L. Brown (editors), The Roots of Tantra, Albany, NY: SUNY Press, 2002.

Hatsis, Thomas, The Witches’ Ointment, The Secret History of Psychedelic Magic. Rochester, VT: Park Street Press, 2015.

Hartsuiker, Dolf, Sādhus: India’s Mystic Holy Men, Rochester, VT: Inner Traditions, 1993.

Hayes, Glen A., “The Vaiṣṇava Sahajiyā Traditions of Medieval Bengal,” in Religions of India in Practice, edited by Donald S. Lopez, Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1995.

Heinrich, Clark, Strange Fruit: Alchemy, Religion, and Magical Foods, London: Bloomsbury, 1995.

Hillebrandt, Alfred, Vedic Mythology, New Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1980.

Hirschberg, Daniel A., Remembering the Lotus-Born: Padmasambhava in the History of Tibet’s Golden Age, Somerville, MA: Wisdom Publications, 2016.

Hoog, Constance (translator) and Phags-pa Blo-gros rgryal-mtshan dPal-bzaï-po of the Sa-skya-pa, Prince Jiṅ-Gim’s Textbook of Tibetan Buddhism: The Śes-bya rab-gsal (Jñeya-prakāśa), Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1983.

Huber, Toni, The Cult of Pure Crystal Mountain: Popular Pilgrimage and Visionary Landscape in Southeast Tibet, Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 1999.

Huntington, S. L., “Early Buddhist art and the theory of aniconism,” New York: Art Journal, Vol.49, No. 4, Winter 1990.

Kalsang, Ladrang, and Pema Thinley, The Guardian Deities of Tibet, Dharamsala: Little Lhasa, 1996,

Kapstein, Matthew, ”The Guide to the Crystal Peak,” in Religions of Tibet in Practice, edited by Donald S. Lopez, Princeton NJ: Princeton University Press, 1997.

Karnick, C. R., Ayurvedic Narcotic Medicinal Plants, Delhi: . Sri Satguru Publications, 1996.

Karunaratne, T. B., The Buddhist Wheel Symbol, (The Wheel Publications No. 137/138), Kandy: Buddhist Publication Society, 1969.

Keith, Arthur Berridale (translator), Ṛig Veda Brāhmaṇas: The Aitareya and Kauśītaki Brāhmaṇas, (Harvard Oriental Series, Vol. 25, 1920; Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass reprint, 1971.

Kerényi, Carl and Ralph Manheim (translator) Eleusis, Archetypal image of Mother and Daughter, Princeton, NJ: Princeton, NJ: University Press, 1967.

Kinsley, David R., Hindu Goddesses: Visions of the Divine Feminine in the Hindu Religious Traditions, Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1986.

____. Tantric Visions of the Divine Feminine. The Ten Mahāvidyās, Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1997.

Konow, Sten, Saka Versions of the Bhadrakalpikāsūtra, (Issue 1 of Avhandlinger utgitt av det Norske videnskaps-akademi i Oslo, 2), Oslo: Dybwad, 1929.

Kramrisch, Stella, “The Mahāvīra Vessel and the Plant Pūtika,” Journal of the American Oriental Society, Vol. 95, No. 2, April- June1975.

____. The Presence of Śiva Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press,, 1981.

Kværne, Per, An Anthology of Buddhist Tantric Songs: A Study of the Caryāgīti, Bangkok: White Orchid Press, 1986.

von Langsdorff, Baron George Heinrich, “Divine Mushroom of Immortality” (Fly Agaric Kamachadal), Frankfurt 1809; Reprinted in Canadian Whole Earth Almanac Vol #3 no. 1, 1972.

Lattin, Don, The Harvard Psychedelic Club: How Timothy Leary, Ram Dass, Huston Smith and Andrew Weil Killed the Fifties and Ushered in a New Age for America, New York: Harper One, 2010.

____. Changing Our Minds: Psychedelic Sacraments and the New Psychotherapy, Santa Fe, NM and London: Synergetic Press, 2017.

Leary, Timothy, Ralph Metzner, and Richard Alpert, The Psychedelic Experience: A Manual Based on The Tibetan Book of the Dead, New York: University Books, 1964.

Leidy, Denise Patry and Robert Thurman, Maṇḍala: The Architecture of Enlightenment, New York: Asia Society Galleries and Tibet House; Boston: Shambhala, 1998.

Lessing, F.D. and Alex Wayman, (editors and translators), Introduction to the Buddhist Tantric Systems, New York: Samuel Weiser, 1980.

Lewin, Louis, Phantastica, A Classic Study on the Use and Abuse of Mind-Altering Plants, Rochester, VT: Park Street Press, 1998.

Lindrothe, Rob, Ruthless Compassion. Wrathful Deities in Early Indo-Tibetan Esoteric Buddhist Art, London: Serindia Publications, 1999.

Ling, Trevor, The Buddha: Buddhist Civilisation in India and Ceylon, London: Temple Smith, 1973.

Lipman, K. (translator), “The Hidden Lamp of Pure Awareness,” in Dzogchen Community News, Issue 3, “West Coast,” 1987.

Lopez, Donald S., Religions of India in Practice, Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. 1995.

____. Religions of Tibet in Practice Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1997.

____. The Tibetan Book of the Dead – a Biography, Princeton, NJ and Oxford: Princeton University Press, 2011.

Lorenzen, David N., The Kāpālikas and Kālāmukhas, Two Lost Śaivite Sects, Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1972.

MacDonnell, A. A. (translator), The Bṛhad-Devatā, attributed to Śaunaka, a summary of the deities and myths of the ṚgVeda, (Reprint of 1904 edition) Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1994.

Mahadevan, Iravatham, Interviewed on January 17, 1998 by Omar Khan, at Chennai, Madras. www.harappa.com/script/mahadevantext.html (retrieved Jan 14th 2012).

Mallory, J. P., In Search of the Indo-Europeans: Language, Archaeolgy and Myth, London: Thames and Hudson, 1989.

Mallory, J. P. and D. Q. Adams (editors), Encyclopedia of Indo-European Culture, London: Routledge, 1997, 2004.

Marshall, Sir John, The Buddhist Art of Gandhara. The Story of the Early School, its Birth, Growth and Decline, New Delhi: Munshiram Manoharlal Publishers, 1960,

Millière, R., “Looking for the Self: Phenomenology, Neurophysiology and Philosophical Significance of Drug-induced Ego Dissolution,” Frontiers in Human Neuroscience, 2017; 11: 245.

Mochtar, Said Gholam, and Hartmut Geerken, ”Die Halluzinogene Muscarin und Ibotensäure im Mittleren Hindukusch: Ein Beitrag zur volkheil-praktischen Mykologie,” Afghanistan Journal 6:62-65, 1979. English translation by Peter G. Werner at https://erowid.org/plants/amanitas/references/journal/1979_mochtar_afghanistan1.shtml [retrieved February 3rd, 2014].

Monier-Williams, M., A Sanskrit-English Dictionary Etymologically and Philologically Arranged with Special Reference to Cognate Indo-European Languages, (Facsimile reprint of 1899 original), Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1963.

Mukherjee, B. N., “An Illustration of Iconographic Contact between Kārttikeya and Mañjuśrī in China,” in Buddhist Iconography, edited by K. Vatsyayan, New Delhi: Tibet House, 1989.

Murphy, Edwin (translator), The Antiquities of Asia. A Translation with Notes of Book II of the Library of History of Diodorus Siculus, New Brunswick and Oxford: Transaction Publishers, 1989

Muses, C. A. (editor), Esoteric Teachings of the Tibetan Tantra, York Beach, ME: Samuel Weiser, 1982.

Ngawang Kunga Tenzin (Khamtrul Rinpoche III, and Gerardo Abboud (translator), The Royal Seal of Mahamudra: A Guidebook for the Realization of Coemergence, Boston: Snow Lion, 2014.

de Nebesky-Wojkowitz, René, Oracles and Demons of Tibet, The Cult and Iconography of the Tibetan Protective Deities, Graz, Austria: Akademische Druck, u. Verlagsanstalt, 1975.

Norbu, Namkhai, Drung, Deu and Bön, Narrations, Symbolic languages and the Bön tradition in ancient Tibet, Dharamsala: Library of Tibetan Works and Archives, 1995.

O’Flaherty, Wendy Doniger (translator), The Rig Veda, Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, 1981.

Oldenberg, Hermann, and Shridar Shrotri (translator), The Religion of the Veda, Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1988.

Olschak, Blanche C., Ancient Bhutan, A Study on the Early Buddhism of the Himalayas, Zürich: Swiss Foundation for Alpine Research, 1979.

Otrul, P., Rinpochey, “Offerings,” Chö Yang, Issue 7, Kangra, India: Norbulingka Inst., 1996/

Ott, Jonathan, Pharmacotheon. Entheogenic Drugs, Their Plant Sources and History, Kennewick, WA: Natural Products Co., 1993.

____. Ayahuasca Analogues, Pangaean Entheogenesis, Kennewick, WA: Natural Products Co., 1994.

Parpola, Asko, “Study of the Indus Script,” Transactions of the International Conference of Eastern Studies 50: 28-66, Tokyo: The Tôhô Gakkai, 2005.

Payne, Richard K. (editor), Tantric Buddhism in East Asia, Boston: Wisdom Publications, 2006.

Piper, Alan “The Milk of the Goat Heiđrun: An Investigation into the Sacramental Use of Psychoactive Milk and Meat,”in John A. Rush, (ed.) Entheogens and the Development of Culture, Berkeley, CA: North Atlantic Books, 2013.

____. Strange Drugs Make for Strange Bedfellows, Portland, OR: Invisible College Press, 2014.

Pīyasilo, Ven. Avalokiteśvara. Origin, Manifestations and Meanings, Petaling Jaya, Malaysia: Community of the Dharmafarers, 1991.

Qureshi, A. K. et al., “Neolamarckines A and B, new indole alkaloids from Neolamarckia cadamba,” Chemical Pharm. Bulletin (Tokyo). 2011;5 9(2):291-3.

Raghuvira and Lokesh Chandra, Tibetan Maṇḍalas (Vajrāvali and Tantra-samuccaya), New Delhi: International Academy of Indian Culture, 1995.

Rätsch, Christian, The Encyclopedia of Psychoactive Plants: Ethnopharmacology and Its Applications, Rochester, VT: Park Street Press, 2005.

____. “The Mead of Inspiration,” in TYR, Myth-Cuture-Tradition, Vol. 4, eds. Joshua Buckley and Michae; Moynihan, North Augusta, NC: 2014.

Rizk, Abdel-Fatta M., Poisonous Plant Contamination of Edible Plants, Boca Raton, FL: CRC Press, 1990.

Roberts, Andy, Acid Drops – Adventures in Psychedelia, Falmouth, UK: Psychedelic Press, 2016.

Roberts, Peter Alan, The Biographies of Rechungpa, The Evolution of a Tibetan Hagiography, London and New York: Routledge, 2007.

Robinson, James B., Buddha’s Lions, The Lives of the Eighty-four Siddhas, Berkeley, CA: Dharma Publishing, 1979.

Room, Adrian, NTC’s Classical Dictionary: The Origins of the Names of Characters in Classical Mythology, Lincolnwood, IL: National Textbook Co., 1990.

Rangdrol, Tsele Natsok, Empowerment and the Path of Liberation, Hong Kong: Rangjung Yeshe Publications, 1993.

Reynolds, John M. (translator), Tārānātha – The Golden Rosary of Tārā, Arcidosso, Italy: Shang Shung Edizioni, 1985.

Ruck, Carl A. P., Blaise David Staples, and Clark Heinrich, The Apples of Apollo, Pagan and Christian Mysteries of the Eucharist, Durham, NC: Carolina Academic Press, 2001.

Rudgley, Richard, Essential Substances, A cultural history of intoxicants in society, New York, Tokyo, London: Kodansha International, 1993.

____. The Encyclopedia of Psychoactive Substances, New York: St. Martin’s Griffin, 2000.

Sahai, Bhagwant, Iconography of Minor Hindu and Buddhist Deities, New Delhi: Abhinav, 1975.

Saibaba, V. V. S., “Probable Origin of Buddha Image as the Object of Devotion and Worship,” in Buddhist Iconography, edited by K. Vatsyayan, New Delhi: Tibet House, 1989.

Samuel, Geoffrey, The Origin of Yoga and Tantra, Indic Religions to the Thirteenth Century: Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Univ. Press, 2008

Sanderson, Alexis, “Vajrayāna: Origin and Function in Buddhism into the Year 2000,” International Conference Proceedings, Bangkok and Los Angeles: Dhammakaya Foundation, 1995.

____. “History Through Textual Criticism, in the Study of Śaivism, the Pañcarātra and the Buddhist yoginītantras,”

____. Sources and Time – a Colloquium, ed. by F. Grimal, Pondicherry: Publications du département d’Indologie 91, 2001.

Saraswati, Swami Satyananda, Kundalini Tantra, Bihar, India: Bihar School of Yoga, 1992.

Saso, Michael, Tantric Art and Meditation, Honolulu: Tendai Educational Foundation, 1990.

Schlagintweit, Emil, Buddhism in Tibet (Facsimile reprint of 1863 ed.), London: Susil Gupta, 1968.

Schleiffer, Hedwig (translator and editor), Narcotic Plants of the Old World: An anthology of texts from ancient times to the present, Monticello, NY: Lubrecht & Cramer, 1979.

Shakya, Min Bahadur, Iconography of 108 Lokeśvaras, Lalitpur, Nepal: Young Men’s Buddhist Association, 2011.

Sharpa Tulku and Richard Guard, R. (translators) Meditation on Vajrabhairava (by Khyabje Dechen Phabongka Nyingpo), Dharamsala: Library of Tibetan Works and Archives, 2000.

Shaw, Miranda, Passionate Enlightenment, Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1994.

Shulgin, Alexander, and Ann Shulgin, TIHKaL: The Continuation, Berkeley, CA: Transform Press, 1997.

Siklós, Bulcsu, “Datura Rituals in the Vajramahabhairava-Tantra,” Curare, Vol 16 (2):71-76, 1993.

Snellgrove, D. (translator and editor), The Hevajra Tantra, a critical study, London: Oxford University Press, 1959.

____. Indo-Tibetan Buddhism, Indian Buddhists and Their Tibetan Successors, London: Serindia Publications, 1987.

Snelling, John, The Buddhist Handbook: A Complete Guide to Buddhist Schools, Teaching, Practice, and History, Rochester, VT: Inner Traditions, 1991.

Sopa, Geshe Lhundub, Michael Sweet, and Leonard Zwilling, (translators and editors), Peacock in the Poison Grove, Two Buddhist Texts on Training the Mind – The Wheel-Weapon (mTshon cha ‘khor lo) & The Poison-Destroying Peacock (rMa bya dug ‘joms), attr. to Dharmarakshita, Boston, MA: Wisdom Publications, 2001.

Spess, David L., Soma the Divine Hallucinogen, Rochester, VT: Park Street Press, 2000.

Srivastava, A. L., Nandyāvarta, An Auspicious Symbol in Indian Art, Allahabad: Kitab Mahal, 1991.

Stamets, Paul, Psilocybin Mushrooms of the World, an Identification Guide, Berkeley, CA: Ten Speed Press, 1996.

Stafford, Peter, Psychedelics Encyclopedia, Los Angeles: J. P. Tarcher Inc., 1983.

“Steve E.,” ‘Report from an anonymous subject of the University of Wisconsin, Madison, Psilocybin Pharmacokinetics study,’ Downloaded September 17th, 2017 from: https://www.psymposia.com/magazine/largest-dose-psilocybin-fda-study-3/

Stewart, Jampa Mackenzie, The Life of Gampopa: The Incomparable Dharma Lord of Tibet, Ithaca, NY: Snow Lion Publications, 1995.

Sutherland, Gail Hinich, The Disguises of the Demon, The Development of the Yakśa in Hinduism and Buddhism, Albany, NY: State University of New York Press, 1991.

Takaki, K., et al, “Improvement of Edible Mushroom Yield by Electric Stimulations,” Journal of Plasma Fusion Research, Vol. 8, January 2009.

TePaske, Mark R., Richard G. Powell, and Stephen L. Clement, “Analyses of Selected Endophyte-Infected Grasses for the Presence of Loline-Type and Ergot-Type Alkaloids,” Agricultural & Food Chemistry, Dec. 1993, pp. 2299-2303, American Chemical Society.

Templeman, David (translator), The Seven Instruction Lineages of Jo Nang, Dharamsala: Library of Tibetan Works and Archives, 1983.

____. Tārānātha’s Life of Kṛiṣṇācārya/Kāṇha, Dharamsala: Library of Tibetan Works and Archives, 1989.

____. The Origin of Tārā Tantra by Jo Nang Tārānātha, Dharamsala: Library of Tibetan Works and Archives, 1995.

Tokunaga, Muneo and John D. Smith, (editor), Electronic Mahābhārata (online 1994, at www.mahabharata-resources.org) (12/3/2013) and https://sanskritdocuments.org/mirrors/mahabharata/mahabharata-bori.html (08/15/2019)

Trout, K., Notes on the Acacia species reported to contain Tryptamines and/or β-Carbolines, Austin, TX: Better Days, 1998.

____. Some Simple Tryptamines, Miami, FL: Mydriatic Productions, 2007.

Trungpa, Chogyam, “Sacred Outlook: The Vajrayoginī Shrine and Practice,” in The Silk Route and the Diamond Path by Deborah E. Klimburg-Salter, Los Angeles, CA: UCLA Arts Council, 1982.

Tsarong, T. J., Handbook of Traditional Tibetan Drugs, Their Nomenclature, Composition, Use, and Dosage, Kalimpong: Tibetan Medical Publications, 1986.

Tsonawa, Lobsang N. (translator), Indian Buddhist Pandits: from “Jewel Garland of Buddhist History,” Dharamsala: Library of Tibetan Works and Archives, 1985.

Tucci, Giuseppe, Stupa – Art, Architectonics and Symbolism, New Delhi: Aditya Prakashan, 1988.

Tu-Shun, “Calming and Contemplation in the Five Teachings of Huayan,” Online: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indra%27s_net, retrieved April 8, 2018.

Vatsyayan, Kapila (editor), Buddhist Iconography, New Delhi: Tibet House, 1999.

Vogel, J., Indian Serpent Lore; or The Nāgas in Hindu Legend and Art (Reprint of the 1926 edition.), Whitefish, MT: Kessinger Publishing, 2005.

Wallace, B. Alan, (translator), The Vajra Essence, Düdjom Lingpa’s Visions of the Great Perfection, Volume 3, Somerville, MA: 2015.

Walleser, Max, The Life of Nāgārjuna from Tibetan and Chinese Sources, [Undated reprint from Asia Minor, vol.1, 1923], New Delhi: Nag Publishers, 1979.

Wallis, Christopher D., Tantra Illuminated, The Philosophy, History, and Practice of a Timeless Tradition, San Rafael, CA: Mattamayūra Press, 2013.

Walter, Michael L., “Preliminary Results from a study of two Rasayana systems in Indo-Tibetan Esoterism ,” in Tibetan Studies in Honour of Hugh Richardson, edited by Michael Aris, Warminster, England: Aris & Phillips Ltd., 1980.

____. “The Tantra, A Vessel of bDud.rTsi, a Bon Text,” Journal of the Tibet Society, Vol. 6, Indiana University, 1986.

Wasson, R. Gordon, “Lightning bolt and mushrooms: an essay in early cultural exploration,” Festschrift for Roman Jakobson, The Hague, 1956.

____. Soma: Divine Mushroom of Immortality, Ethnomycological Studies No. 1, The Hague: Mouton and Co., 1968.

____. “Soma Brought Up-to-date,” Botanical Museum Leaflets, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University, v26 n6 (19780630): 211-222, 1978.

____. “The Miskwedo of the Ahnishinaubeg,” Entheos- The Journal of Psychedelic Spirituality, Vol. IV, Taos, NM, 2001.

Wasson, R. Gordon, Stella Kramrisch, Jonathan Ott, and Carl.A.P. Ruck, Persephone’s Quest: Entheogens and the Origins of Religion, New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1986.

Watkins, Calvert, The American Heritage Dictionary of Indo-European Roots, 2nd edition, New York: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1977.

____. How to Kill a Dragon, Aspects of Indo-European Poetics, New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995.

Watt, George, Dictionary of The Economic Products Of India, Calcutta: Superintendent of Government Printing, 1883.

Watts, Alan, The Collected Letters of Alan Watts, Novato, CA: New World Library, 2017.

Wayman, Alex, Buddhist Insight: essays, (edited by George Elder), Delhi : Motilal Banarsidass, 1984.

____. Yoga of the Guhyasamājatantra: The Arcane Lore of Forty Verses, A Buddhist Tantra Commentary, Delhi: Motil Banarsidass, 1977.

White, David Gordon, “The Wonders of Śri Mastnāth,” in Religions of Tibet in Practice, edited by Donald S. Lopez, Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1995.

____. “The Ocean of Mercury: An Eleventh Century Alchemical Text,” in Religions of Tibet in Practice, edited by Donald S. Lopez, 1995.

____. Kiss of the Yoginī: Tantric Sex in its South Asian Context, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2003.

____. Sinister Yogis, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2011.

____. (editor), Tantra in Practice (Princeton Readings in Religion), Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2000.

Wilkins, W. J., Hindu Gods and Goddesses, (Facsimile reprint of Hindu Mythology, Vedic and Puranic, 1900 edition), Mineola, NY: Dover Publications, 2003.

Willson, Martin (translator and editor), In Praise of Tārā: Songs to the Saviouress, Boston, MA: Wisdom Books, 1986.

Willson, Martin and Martin Brauen, Deities of Tibetan Buddhism: The Zurich Paintings of the Icons Worthwhile to See, London and Boston, MA: Wisdom Publications, 2000.

Wilson, Horace Hayman (translator), The Vishnu Purana, 1840, online at www.sacred-texts.com (Retrieved Oct. 13th, 2009).

Wilson, Peter Lamborn, Ploughing the Clouds: the Search for Irish Soma, San Francisco, CA: City Lights Books, 1999.

Zimmer, Heinrich, Artistic Form and Yoga in the Sacred Images of India, (English translation by Gerald Chappie & James B. Lawson, Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1984.

Zvelebil, Kamil V., The Siddha Quest for Immortality, Oxford: Mandrake of Oxford, 2003

NOTES

1.Payne, R. K., 2006, passim.

2.Snellgrove, D., 1987.

3.Millière, 2017.

4.Cleary, T., 1993, p.925.

5.Bharati, A., 1958, p.253.

6.Paraphrase of Walter, M., 1986, p.42.

7.Saraswati, Swami S., 1992, p.36.

8.Paraphrase of Damron, R., 2013.

9.Baker, I., 2004, p.256

10.Templeman, D., 1989, pp.8-9.

11.Quoted in Wayman, A., 1983, p.163.

12.Bhattacharyya, N. N., 1958, p.147.

13.Snelling, J., 1991

14.Nature, April 2006.

15.Mallory, J. P. and Adams, D. Q., p.73.

16.Rudgley, R., 1998, p. 229.

17.Ibid., p. 229.

18.Room, A., 1990, p.116.

19.Dowson, J., 1968, p.84.

20.Mahadevan, I., 1998.

21.Basham, A. L., 1989, p.4.

22.Mahadevan, I., 1998.

23.Wasson, R. G.,1989.

24.Stamets, P., 1996, p.144.

25.Ibid., pp.72-3.

26.Ibid., p.121.

27.Basham, A. L., 1989, p.2.

28.Quoted in Dowson, J., 1968, pp.350-351.

29.Coomaraswamy, A. K., 1993, p.133.

30.Wasson, R. G., et al., 1986.

31.Takashi, K. et al., 2009.

32.Quoted in Wasson, R. G. et al., 1986, p.83, et seq.

33.Kinsley, D., 1988, p.10.

34.Wasson, R. G., 1968, p.39.

35.Griffith, R, 1899.

36.Wasson, R. G., 1968, pp. 296-8.

37.Kauṣitaki Brāhmaṇa, 6.1.

38.Parpola, A., 2005.

39.Griffith, R., 1899, p. 144.

40.Ibid., p. 146.

41.Ibid., p. 146.

42.Ibid., p. 146.

43.Ibid., p. 140.

44.Ibid., p. 140.

45.Giraldus Cambrensis, The History (or Topography) of Ireland, written between 1185 and 1188, quoted in Watkins, C., 1995, p.266.

46.O’Flaherty, W. D, 1981, p. 123

47.von Langsdorf, G. H., 1809

48.Ott, J., 1993, p.327.

49.Ibid., p.327.

50.Ibid., p.328.

51.von Bibra, Baron E., 1995, p.75.

52.Adapted from Wasson, R. G., 1968, pp.33-34 (which cites the passage incorrectly as 14.52.12-35.), with further reference to the electronic Mahābhārata created by Prof. Muneo Tokunaga of Kyoto.

53.Hajicek-Dobberstein, S., 1995.

54.M. Bloomfield, “Contributions to the interpretation of the Veda,” 1891, pp. 425-9; cited in Kramrisch, S. 1981, p.36, fn1.

55.Rudgley, R., 1995, p.83.

56.Ott, J., 1993, pp. 424-425.

57.McDonald, A., 2004.

58.Rudgley, R., 1995, pp.82-83.

59.Hillebrandt, A., 1980., I-127.

60.Ott, J., p. 148, n.7.

61.Ibid., p.157.

62.E.g., Monier-Williams, M., 1899.

63.Farrow, G.W. and Menon, I., 1992

64.Bennett, C., 2000, p.68.

65.Bennett, C., personal communication, 2010.

66.Monier-Williams, M., 1899, p.167.

67.Ibid., p.167.

68.Monier-Williams, M., op. cit., entries for both gañja and guñja.

69.Bennett’s source is Crowley, M., 1996, a paper which made no such claims regarding the identity of Vedic soma.

70.Kalsang, L., 1996, p. p22.

71.The Ven. Radha Chime Rinpoche, personal communication, 1974.

72.Saso, M. 1990, p. 21

73.Kerenyi, C., 1967, pp.20-21

74.Wilson, P. L., 2001.

75.Mochtar, S.G. and H. Geerken, 1979, passim.

76.Ling, T., op. cit.., p.13.

77.Wasson, R., The Last Meal of the Buddha, in Wasson et al., 1986.

78.Walleser, M., p.29.

79.White, D. G., 2003, p16.

80.Sharpa, T., 2000, pp.59-60.

81.Sanderson, A., 1996, passim.

82.Sudruta, 1835-4, Ayurveda, vol. ii, p. 251, in Vogel, J., 2005, p73, fn.1.

83.Monier-Williams 1899, p.234i

84.Ibid., p.269ii.

85.Stamets, P. 1996, pp. 72-73.

86.Ott, J., 1993.

87.https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ekapada, retrieved May 21st, 2015.

88.Wasson, R.G. et al., 1986, passim.

89.Dowson, J., 1968, pp. 296-8.

90.Wilkins, W., 2000, p.279-280.

91.Linga Purāna, I.21-25, quoted in Danielou, A., 1992, p.113.

92.Lorenzen, D. N., 1972, pp.8-11, et passim.

93.Wallis, C., 2013, p231.

94.Chandra, L., 2000, p.425.

95.Pīyasilo, 1991, p.3.

96.Vide Chandra, L., 2000, pp. 2447-2450.

97.Chandra, L., 2000, p.425.

98.Ibid., p.425. Emphasis added.

99.O’Flaherty, W., 1981, p.155.

100.Schlagintweit, E., 1860, pp.114-117.

101.Adapted from Schlagintweit, E., 1968.

102.Ardussi, J. A., 1977.

103.von Langsdorf, G. H., 1972.

104.Heinrich, C., personal communication, 1994.

105.Danielou, A., 1991, p.107.

106.Wasson et al., 1986, p. 89.

107.An abbreviated account. Complete text in Dalton, J., 2011, pp.159-208

108.Chandra, L., 2000, p. 4017.

109.Quoted by Briggs, G., 1989, p. 347.

110.Quoted by Briggs, G., 1989, p. 347.

111.Reynolds, J., 1985, p. 37.

112.Reynolds, J., 1985, p. 37.

113.Willson, M. and Brauen, M., 2000, p.250.

114.Davidson, R. M., 2002, p.217.

115.English, E., pp.85-86.

116.Ibid., pp.38-39.

117.Dowman, K., 78.

118.Heinrich, C., 2002, pp. 38-44.

119.Ibid.

120.See, for instance, Indrabhūti’s commentary on the Cakrasamvaratantra [Gray, D. B., 2007, p. 48] and the Sarva-tathāgata-vajra-samaya-mahākalpa-rāja, a fragment of which (possibly ninth century CE) exists in the Gupta script [Tucci, G., 1988, pp.135-140].

121.Lorenzen, D., 1972, passim.

122.Ibid.

123.Wilkins, W. J., 2000, p. 298.

124.Hartsuiker, D., 1993, pp.114-115.

125.Ibid., p115.

126.Wasson, R.G. et al., 1986, passim.

127.Conze, E., 1993, p.72.

128.English, E, 2002, pp. 37-40.

129.Ott, J., 1993, p. 340.

130.Quoted in Beyer, S., 1973.

131.Keith, A., 1971, p.325

132.Lipman, K., 1987, Ch. 21.

133.Lessing, F. and Wayman, A., 1980, p.321; Rangdrol, T., 1993, passim.

134.Roberts, A., 2016.

135.Trungpa, C., 1982, p.230 et seq.

136.Lipman, K., 1987, Ch. 2.

137.Chang, G., 1982, p.21.

138.Lessing, F. and Wayman, A., 1980, p. 321.

139.Bharati, A., 1964, p.252.

140.Aitareya Brāhmaṇa, Pañcikā I, Adhyaya III, i.12.; Keith, 1920, p.115.

141.YV, Taittiriya Samhita, vi. 1. 10.3.

142.Eggeling, J., Vol., III, p. 70.

143.Kātyayana, quoted in Eggeling, J., Vol., III, pp. 70-71, fn 7.

144.Paraphrased of Reynolds, J., 1985, p.16, Templeman, D., 1995, pp. 5, 94.

145.Hatsis, T., 2015.

146.Paraphrase of Damron, R., 2013.

147.Quoted in Lorenzen, D., 1973, pp.20-21.

148.Gray, D., 2007, p.164.

149.Heinrich, C., 2002, pp.38-44 et passim.

150.Robinson, J., 1979.

151.Dowman, K., 1985, p.310.

152.Vide Templeman, D. 1985.

153.Paraphrased from Robinson, J. B. and Dowson, K.

154.Vaidya, B. D., 1987, p. 48.

155.Ott, J., 1993, p.420.

156.Hajicek-Dobberstein, S., 1994.

157.Monier-Williams, M., 1899, p.269.

158.Hajicek-Dobberstein, S., 1994.

159.Personal communication, 1969.

160.Dowman, K., 1985.

161.Dowman, K., op. cit.; Templeman, D., 1989, passim.

162.Templeman, D., 1983, pp. 80-81.

163.Briggs, G., 1989, passim.

164.White, D.G., 1995, p.402.

165.Ibid.

166.Briggs, G., op. cit., p.182.

167.Briggs, G., op. cit., p.228.

168.Robinson, J., 1979, pp.47-49; Dowman, K., 1985, p.76.

169.Saso, M. 1990, p. 21.

170.Davidson, R. M., 2002, pp. 250-252.

171.Norbu, N., 1995, p.263, n.87.

172.Sopa, Geshe L. with Sweet, M. J. and Zwilling, L.

173.Davis, R. H., 2000, p.131.

174.Danielou, A., 1991, p.300.

175.Mukherjee, B. N., 1989.

176.Danielou, A., op. cit., p.300.

177.Chandra L., 2003, vol. 7, p.1965.

178.Chandra, L., 1999, p.185.

179.Getty, A., 1988, p.38.

180.Wilson, M., 1986, p.302.

181.Paraphrased from Chandra, L., 2004, p. 2946.

182.http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phalgu, retrieved November 17th, 2014.

183.Chandra, L., 2002, p.1478.

184.Translated by this author from an untitled Tibetan text, Tucci, G., 1988, p.116.

185.Shaw, M. 2006, p.277.

186.Ibid. pp.277-278.

187.Monier-Williams, M., 1983.

188.Vol. V, pp 160-161, quoted in Wasson et al, 1986, p. 119.

189.Shaw, M. 2006, p.277.

190.Otrul, P., 1996, p.32, ii.

191.Chandra, L., 2002b, pp.1355-1356

192.Willson, M. and Brauen, M., 2000, p 311. (Emphasis added.)

193.Ibid., p.311.

194.Chandra, L., 2004, pp. 2444-2446.

195.Willson, M. and Brauen, M., op. cit, p 311.

196.Ibid.

197.Heinrich, C., pp.98-100.

198.Birnbaum, R., 1979, p. 115.

199.Ibid., p136.

200.Chandra, L., 2004, p.3297.

201.Ibid, p.2228.

202.Ibid, p.2228.

203.Stamets, P. 1996, pp 121-122.

204.Stamets, P. 1996, pp 87-88.

205.Griffith, R. T. H. (translator), 1973.

206.Ruck, C., 2001.

207.Watkins, C., 1995.

208.Watkins, C., 1977.

209.Chandra, L., 2003, pp.2447-2450.

210.Bhattacharyya, B., 1958.

211.Huntington, S. L., 1990.

212.Bhattacharyya, B., 1958, p.199.

213.Chandra 2005, vol. 15, pp.4344-4358.

214.Vira and Chandra, 1995: 149, no.9.

215.Bhattacharyya, B., 1958.

216.Quoted in Chandra, L., 2004.

217.Chandra, L. 2004, vol. 12, pp.3507-3578.

218.Chandra, L. 2004, vol. 13, p.3741.

219.Chandra 2004, vol. 13, p.3741.

220.Bharati, A., 1965; Heinrich, C., personal communication, 2010.

221.Olschak, B., 1979, p.152.

222.Chandra, L., 2004, p.3754.

223.Chandra, L., 2003, p.1851.

224.Graves, R., 1958, p.261.

225.Wasson, R. G., 1968, pp. 42, 159, 240, 249, 273-4.

226.Monier-Williams, M., 1899, pp. 186-7.

227.Keith, A. B. (translator), Aitareya Brāhmaṇa, iii. 46 (xv. 2), p.194.

228.Chandra, L., 2001, p. 725.

229.Gray, D. B, 2007, ch. xxxii, p. 300.

230.Hevajra Tantra II, chapter ix, verse 1; Snellgrsove, D., 1959, Vol. I, p.116, Vol. II, p.90.

231.Snellgrove, D., op. cit.., Vol I, p.117, fn.3.

232.Monier-Williams, M., 1899. Occasionally refers, by synecdoche, to the entire wheel.

233.E.g., Ṛig Veda, Maṇḍala 10, LXXXII vii.

234.Hevajra-Tantra II, chapter ix, verse 9; Snellgrsove, D., 1959, Vol. I, p.117, Vol. II, p.91.

235.Dalton, J., 2001, p.84.

236.Mahā Sudassana Suttanta, quoted in Karnunaratne, T. B., 1969, p.3.

237.Heinrich, C., 1995, pp.98-100

238.Willson and Brauen, 2000, p.298.

239.Dowman, K., 2015, pp.25-26.

240.Davidson, R., 2004, p.143.

241.Gray, D. B, 2007, ch. xxxix, p. 325 and ch. xlii, 338.

242.Willson and Brauen, op. cit., p.285.

243.Chang, 1977, vol. II, p. 475.

244.For Rechungpa, see Ngawang K. T., 2014, p.xiv.

245.Lopez, D., 2011, pp.54-55.

246.Barron, R., 2003, passim.

247.Ibid. p.60.

248.E.g. Eliade, M., 1968, ch. viii.

249.Czaplicka, M. A., 1914, passim.

250.Leary, T., et al., 1964

251.Paraphrased from Dalton, J., 2011, p.33.

252.A slight paraphrase of Wayman, A., 1983, p.27.

253.Dalton. J., 2011, p.35.

254.Quoted ibid., p.290.

255.Rangdrol, T. N., 1993, p38.

256.Ibid.

257.Ibid.

258.Mahābhārata I, iii, Paushya Parva.

259.Zimmer, H., 1984, p.139.

260.Heinrich, C., 1994, personal communication.

261.Willson and Brauen, op. cit., p.334.

262.Ibid. p.334.

263.As in, for instance, Wallace, B. A., 2015, p.146.

264.Chandra, L. 2004a (vol. 10), p.2751.

265.Ibid., p.2752.

266.Chandra, L., 2003, p.2215.

267.Wasson, R., 1968, p.84 et seq.

268.Ibid. p. 237.

269.Wayman, A., 1983, pp.446-450, n. 10-23.

270.Ibid., p.446, n. 10.

271.Ghosh, M., 1980, pp. 66-68.

272.Chandra, L., 2004, p.3537.

273.Reynolds. J., 1985, pp. 34-35.

274.Reynolds. J., op. cit., pp. 34-35.

275.Ott, J., 1993, p.246; Trout, K., 1998, p.46; Shulgin, A. T., 1998, personal communication.

276.Trout, K., 1998.

277.Ward, G., 1885, p.295.

278.Chandra, L. 2002c, p.1708.

279.Griffith, R. T. H., 1973.

280.An extract from Dr. Watt’s Second Note on the Soma Plant is quoted in Hillebrandt, A., 1980, p.126.

281.Ibid., p.260.

282.Personal communication with an Afghan, August 8th, 1989.

283.Takahashi, I, Personal communication, Feb. 2011.

284.Chandra, L., 2003, p.2260.

285.Monier-Williams, M., 1899.

286.Quoted in “In Praise of Tārā,” by M. Wilson., p.387, n.80.

287.Ibid., p.387.

288.Templeman, D., 1983, p.80.

289.Chandra, L., 2004c, p.3543.

290.Baker, I., 2004, p.257 and p.469, n.25.

291.Monier-Williams, M., 1899.

292.Qureshi, A.K., et al., 2011.

293.Bhattacaryya, B., 1958, p.209.

294.Ibid., p.209.

295.Ibid., pp. 339-340.

296.Linrothe, R., 1999, p.95 passim.

297.Chandra, L., 2002b. p. 1362; Bhattacharyya, B., 1958, p.165.

298.Chandra, L., 2002b. pp. 1362, 1369.

299.Boord, M., 1993, p.61.

300.Boord, M., unpublished dissertation.

301.Boord, M., 1993, p. 73.

302.Chandra, L., 2002b, p. 1358.

303.Ibid., p. 1358.

304.Ibid., p. 1371.

305.Ibid., p. 1358.

306.Ibid., pp. 1361.

307.Rizke, A-F, 1990, p. 98.

308.TePaske, M. R., Powell, R. G. and Clement, S. L., 1993.

309.Ibid., pp. 1356-1380.

310.Of the attributes and gestures listed in Chandra, L., 2002b, pp.1355-1356, the khadira-staff represents 11.79% (27/229) of attributes and the vandanamudra accounts for 50.76% (33/65) of all gestures.

311.Gray, D. B., 2007, p. 226.

312.Sanderson, A., 2001, p.45.

313.Gray, D. B., 2007, p. 303.

314.After ibid., p. 364

315.Leidy, D. P. and Thurman, R. A. F., 1998, p.85.

316.Willson and Brauen, 2000, p.257.

317.Kramrisch, S., 1975.

318.Ṛig Veda, 9.82.3: Parjanya creates soma when his thunderbolt strikes the earth.

319.Kramrisch, S., in Wasson et al., 1986.

320.Beer, R., 1999, p.332.

321.Snellgrove, D., 1959, vol. I, p.71.

322.Kalsang, L., 1996, p22.

323.Chandra, L., 2000, pp.512-520.

324.Willson M. and Brauen M., 2000, p. 385.

325.Nebeski-Wojkowitz, R., 1975, p 57.

326.Davidson, R. M., 1992, p.117.

327.Ibid., p.81.

328.Wasson, R. G., 2005.

329.Beer, R., 1999, p.332.

330.Heinrich, C., 2002, pp. 38-44.

331.Davidson, R. M., 2002, p.217.

332.Ibid., p.249.

333.Shah, I.,

334.Mochtar, S.G. and Geerken, H., 1979.

335.English, E., 2002, p.74.

336.Chandra, L., 2001, p.876.

337.Anecdotal reports from anonymous sources.

338.Beer, R., 1999, p. 253.

339.Stewart, J.M., 1995, p 53.

340.Lattin, D., 2010, p.52.

341.Cited in Gray, D. B., 2005, p.48.

342.Dowman, K., 1997, pp. 140-141.

343.Lecture given on October 27, 2017, available online. Retrieved from www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vmy50F51l4U on March 4, 2019.

344.Bharati, A., 1965.

345.Vide, e.g., Parker, R. C., 2007.

346.Cathcart, T. and Klein, D., 2009, p.26.

347.Watts, A., 2017, p.281, letter to the noted Protestant philosopher Reinhold Niebuhr.

348.Dowman, K., 2010, p.25.

349.Forte, R., personal communication, July, 2017.

350.Piper, A., 2014.

351.Lattin, D., 2017, pp. 195-238.

352.Germano, D. and Gyatso, J. (2000).

353.Teri Krebs and Pål-Ørjan Johansen, Norway, 2015.

354.Baum, D., 2016.

355.Badiner, A. and Grey, A., 2002.

356.The Ven. Radha Chime Rinpoche, personal communication, 1969.

357.Piper, A., 2013.

358.Beer, R., 1999, p.332.

359.Monier-Williams, M., 1899.

360.Hayes, G. A., 1995.

361.White, D. G., 1995.

362.Ibid., p.100.

363.Ibid.

364.Das, S. C. 1902.

365.Dowman, K., 1997, p.141.

366.Gray, D., 2007, pp 227-230.

367.Huber, T., 1999, p.99.

368.Ibid., p.185.

369.Shulgin, A. and Shulgin, A., 1997, pp. 445-448.

370.Huber, T., 1999, p.99.

371.Dowman, K., 1997, p.141.

372.Kalsang, L., 1996, p.22.

373.Dash, V. B., 1987, pp. 276-277.

374.Rätsch, C., 2005, p. 307.

375.Kalsang, L., 1996, p22.

376.Tsarong, T. J., 1986, pp.23-5.

377.Based on ibid., p.35.

378.Dowman, K., 1997, p. 141.

379.“Steve E.,” 2017. Published online at www.psymposia.com, retrieved Jan. 18th, 2018.

380.Fournet, A., 2010.

381.Banerjee, P., 1989, passim.

382.Ling, T. 1973, p.83

383.Beckwith, C., 2014, pp.5-7.

384.Lopez, D., 2011, p.54.

385.Hirschberg, D. 2014, p.12.

386.Ibid.

387.Gyatso, J., 1996.

388.Gyatso, J., 1998.

389.Clements, J., 2017, p.88.

390.Foltz, R. C., 2004.

391.Richardson, R., 2005, pp, 143-148.

392.Ibid., pp. 145-146.

INDEX

abhiṣeka, 76, 113-119, 129, 160, 188, 311, 319

Abhyudgatoṣṇīṣa, 169-170, 176

Abrus precatorius, 63, 311, 314

acacia, 208-218, 221-222, 225, 307, 311, 322

Acacia arabica, 211, 307

Acacia catechu, 208-210, 307, 322

Acacia nilotica, 307

acarya, 28

acetylcholine, 243

aconite, 139

Adenophora lilifolioides, 279

Aditī, 45, 311

Afghanistan, 32-35, 38, 67, 108, 134, 166, 214, 244, 302

Agni, 5-6, 47, 51-52, 60, 136, 241, 254

agni-hotra, 5-6, 52, 60, 241, 254

Aitareya Brāhmaṇa, 114-115, 120, 311

aja ekapad, 53, 86

Ājivaka, 50

alcohol, 21, 43, 114, 139-140, 183, 263, 283, 286

Alexander the Great, 166

Amanita muscaria, 52-58, 95-96, 99-100, 104-107, 129-132, 134-135, 144-145, 154, 156, 159, 165, 173, 175, 178, 181, 189, 196-197, 205-206, 226-227, 239, 241, 244-249, 252-253, 265, 307, 311, 313

ambrosia, 5, 48, 50, 65-66, 126, 140, 249

Amitābha, 142-144, 190, 207

Amitāyus, 142-145, 189-190, 205

amitra, 237, 240-241

amṛita, 5, 6, 9-13, 24-26, 36-37, 43-44, 240-241

Amṛita-phalā, 203, 205

Ananta-svara-ghoṣoṣṇīṣa, 170

Andronovo, 33, 38

antelope, 48, 91, 107, 144-145

antlers, 176

Aparajita-sitātapatrā, 153, 174

Apatra, 127, 129, 159

apron, 248

archer, 46-47, 91, 163, 202, 317

Argyreia nervosa, 42, 61, 307, 311

arhat, 74, 273

arrows, 46-47, 56-57, 92, 163, 166, 202

Arundo donax, 214, 219-220, 225, 307, 312

Āryadeva, 57, 129-133, 184, 206, 247, 311, 315

Āryan, 33, 37-39, 41-44, 47-50, 58, 63, 66-68, 82, 100-101, 106-107, 120, 144, 149, 173, 206-208, 254, 299, 311, 317

ascending node, 84, 313

Asclepius acidum, 6, 52, 61, 307, 312

ash, 104-106, 124-125, 135, 178, 230, 242, 284, 288-289, 312, 315

Ash Parasol, 105, 312

aśoka, 215-219, 312, 315

Aśokakāntā-Mārīcī, 209, 215, 218-220

Aśokari, 218-219, 312

astrology, 48, 84, 97, 208, 313

aśvadudh, 280

aśvamedha, 49-50, 56, 312

Aśvins, 37

atapatra, 129, 147, 149-150, 159-160, 174

Atisha, 210

Atropa belladonna, 123, 307, 312

atropine, 123, 308, 313

aushadhi, 27

Authority-Averting Gaṇapati, 198-200, 275

Avalokiteśvara, 48, 77, 89-92, 101, 144, 159, 168, 181, 200, 216, 221, 253, 312

Avataṃsaka Sūtra, 23-24

ayahuma, 215, 313

Ayurvedic, 59, 219, 280-281, 309

āyutana, 157, 161-162, 222, 312

Azadirachta indica, 217, 312

Bactria, 32, 66-67, 184, 244, 312

Bactria-Margiana Archaeological Complex, 32, 244, 312

baeocystin, 18, 316

bai-raga-ho ceremony, 201

bali, 104, 242, 248

bamboo, 73, 282, 284, 307

Bambusa vulgaris, 282, 284, 307

Banisteriopsis caapi, 211, 279, 307, 312, 314

banner of victory, 156, 174-175, 234

Baro Vihardhara, 197

β-carboline, 58-59, 211, 214, 218-219, 279, 281, 312, 314, 316

Beckley Foundation, 268

Benares, xi, 127

Bennett, 62-64

bhang, 64, 87, 118

bhanga, 64

Bhasmacchatrā, 105, 312

Bhasmeśvaranirghoṣa, 105, 312

Bhava, 48

Bhutan, 3, 183, 192, 280, 316

Bihar, 41, 233

bitumen, 276, 280

black ludu dorje, 278-279

blood, 77, 94, 97, 107, 110, 115, 123, 139, 178, 231-232, 240, 248

blue lotus, 59-60, 160, 202, 308

Blue Staff, 89, 155, 216

Blue Umbrella-handle, 155

BMAC, 32-35, 66-67, 204, 312

Boddo, 167

Bodhi tree, 167, 307

Bön, 3, 17, 117, 186, 282, 301

bows and arrows, 92, 202

Brahma, 46, 50, 91, 104, 206, 242

Brāhmaṇas, 127, 233

Brahmins, 5, 141, 150, 254

brains, 77, 139

Bṛihadāranyaka Upaniṣad, 28

Buddha, 1-2, 19, 23, 27-28, 69-76, 93-98, 101-105, 124-125, 141-142, 147, 149, 151, 157-158, 163-164, 166-169, 171-173, 179-181, 186, 211-215, 219, 231, 239, 242, 244, 248, 259, 262-264, 272-273, 288-291, 299-302, 312-314

Buddha families, 142, 171, 173

Buddhism, i, iii, v-vi, ix, xiv, 1-4, 11-12, 14-17, 21, 24, 28, 48, 50, 57, 65, 69, 71-79, 88, 90, 97, 99, 101-108, 113-114, 119, 133-139, 142-143, 152, 163, 166-167, 172, 181-195, 199, 204, 217, 221, 223, 227-231, 242, 246, 248, 252-255, 258-265, 268-269, 274, 280, 284, 286, 301, 311-319

Buddhist, i, xi, xiv, xvii, 1, 4, 6, 12-16, 23-29, 48, 56, 65, 70, 72-79, 82, 89-90, 92-93, 96-105, 108, 110, 113-114, 116-118, 121-126, 130, 132-137, 140-141, 143-144, 146-147, 151-155, 160, 163-169, 172, 174-175, 178-182, 184-186, 191, 194-195, 197-202, 205-208, 214-217, 219, 222, 226, 228, 231, 235-236, 238-239, 242-243, 248, 253-265, 267-268, 282-283, 300, 302, 312-319

Budha, 212

Bum.Pa, 313

Burton, Sir Richard, 244

cakras, 2

cakravartin, 164, 172, 177, 179

Cambodia, 1, 90, 183

campaka, 278

camphor, 45, 253, 265

caṇḍāla, 56

candali, 217

candra, 213

cannabis, 7-8, 20-24, 33-35, 62-64, 71, 87, 118, 173, 185, 253, 265, 281, 283, 307, 311-314, 317, 322

cannabis tincture, 21-22, 24

Caspian Sea, 32, 35, 38

cattle, 31-32, 35, 37, 39, 41-42, 44, 67, 72, 107, 121, 217, 223, 230

cauda draconis, 84, 97, 313

Ch’an, 183, 202

Chandra, Lokesh, xvii-xviii, 2, 5-6, 45-46, 78, 89-92, 97-98, 105, 112, 115, 121, 127, 131, 140-141, 143, 148, 151, 153, 155-158, 161-164, 167-168, 172, 174, 176, 178, 182, 187, 189, 198-201, 203-205, 207, 214, 216, 222, 228-232, 235-237, 245-246, 323

chattra, 105, 149, 165, 174, 211, 312

chattraka, 88, 105, 149, 211

Chattroṣṇīṣa, 170, 174

China, xi, 24, 48, 69, 90, 159-161, 166, 168-169, 183-184, 202, 204, 278

Chinnamastā, 174, 231-232

Chogyam Trungpa, 116, 269

Chōjō Mandara, 161

chumdong chenpo, 280, 320

Churning of the Ocean, 51, 82, 84-85, 93, 96, 108, 114, 140, 144-145, 160, 200, 205-206, 224, 233, 274, 313-314

cinnabar, 190-191

Citrasenā, 242

Cloud-Messenger, 45

Codonopsis, 278, 281, 308

conch, 56, 165-166

Cong zhi, 276

Copper-colored Mountain, 186

Cordyceps, 279-280, 322

corpse, 49, 78, 122-123, 233-238, 312

cortinate veil, 152

country mallow, 281, 285-286

Couroupita guianensis, 215, 313

crown bump, 4, 104, 147, 152-153, 155, 159-162, 168, 172-173, 175, 181

crystal spheres, 22

crystalline, 9, 290

cult object, 35, 40-41, 88

Cunda, 73

daitya, 37, 83-84

ḍākinī, ix, xiii, 76, 103, 188-189, 191, 214-215, 227-249, 266, 276-277, 280, 313, 315, 319

Dalai Lama, 1, 266

Dalton, Jacob, 178, 196

ḍamaru, 246, 313

danava, 37, 83-85

daṇḍa, 155, 221

Danu, 83

datura, 42, 87, 123, 185, 217, 244, 253, 256, 265, 308, 312-314, 317, 331

Datura metel, 42, 87, 217, 313

deadly nightshade, 123, 307, 312

Devī, 106, 235

dhāraṇī, 147, 158, 181-182

Dharma, 23, 28, 72, 100, 104, 164, 259, 263, 272-273, 288-291

dharmacakra, 163-164, 179, 181

dharmodaya, 232-233

dhattura, 87, 217

dhvaja, 156-157, 174, 234

Dhvajoṣṇīṣa, 170, 174

dikpāla, 51

discus, 56, 84, 110, 164-166, 179-180, 221

DMT, 58, 210-220, 225, 257, 279, 307-309, 311-313, 316

Dowman, Keith, 185, 249, 278, 326

Dravidian, 38, 40, 47, 101, 135, 208, 233, 299

dung, 41, 45, 58, 88, 104, 106, 124-126, 135, 139, 150, 152, 195-197, 230, 234, 252, 309

Dunhuang, 160

Dzogchen, 117, 185, 291, 293, 320

ego death, 20

Eight Uṣṇīṣas, 168-169, 171, 179

ekadaśa-mukha, 90

Ekajatā, 209, 215, 220

Ekajatī, 215, 220

Ekākṣara Cakravartin, 177

ekarasa, 228

Eleusis, 65-66

enemy, 38, 44, 83, 143, 156, 174, 177, 218-220, 232, 236-237, 240-242, 312

ephedra, 33-35, 59, 281, 308, 313-314

ephedrine, 34, 59, 281, 286, 313

excrement, 145, 196-197

feces, 77, 123-124, 286

finger-width, 239, 318

fire ritual, 5-6, 48, 53, 65, 136, 182, 209, 222, 233, 236, 241, 248, 289, 311

fly agaric, 46, 50, 52-54, 99, 104-105, 107, 123, 126, 128-130, 132, 141, 144, 151, 156, 175, 191, 196-199, 201, 204, 206, 216, 218, 226, 238, 240-243, 307, 311

flying ointment, 123, 223

Gampopa, 190-191, 196, 227, 302, 314

gaṇacakra, 77-78, 120, 123, 138-139, 225, 247, 266, 269, 274, 314, 318

Gandhara, 134, 166, 168, 214

Gaṇeśa, 88, 153, 198-199, 201

Ganges, xi, 27, 124, 127, 207

ganj, Gañja, 7-8, 64, 87, 311, 314

Ganoderma lucidum, 202-203

Gautama Siddhartha, 70, 72-73, 186, 211, 215, 224, 272-273, 312

giant reed, 214-215, 219, 225, 307, 312

gills, 166, 179, 181

gongter, 193, 290, 320

Great Peahen, 140-141, 218, 315

great rhubarb, 280

Guha, 141

Guhya Samāja, Guhyasamāja, 28, 130, 195-196, 314

Hajicek-Dobberstein, Scott, xvii, 57, 66, 131-132, 134, 247

hālāhala, 83-84, 93, 95, 97-99, 140, 274

haoma, 33-35, 49, 58, 66, 213, 313-314, 326

Harappa, 39, 42, 208

Harappan culture, 66

haritaki, 157

harmaline, 58, 211, 279, 314, 316

harmine, 58, 211, 279, 316

Harṣa-carita, 314

Hawaiian baby woodrose, 42, 61, 311

Hayagrīva, 16, 152-153, 219, 221-226, 277, 322

hearth, 42, 236, 241

Heinrich, Clark, i, xvii, 57, 95-96, 104, 125, 198, 241, 253, 315, 323

Herakles, 167, 319

herb, 7, 21, 26-27, 41, 64, 83, 87, 95, 118, 123, 150-151, 157, 249, 276-279, 283, 286, 313

Heruka, 155, 187, 229, 231, 242, 265-266, 302-303

Hevajra, xviii, 3, 6, 61-62, 76, 177, 188, 229, 231, 234, 238, 249, 319

Hevajra Tantra, 76, 177, 231, 234, 319

Hinayāna, 16, 74, 262, 264

homa, 104, 107, 136-137, 213, 236, 242, 248

honey, 65, 136, 175, 217, 224

Hsiong Nu, 203

Huayan, 24

human sacrifice, 178-179, 196

hyoscyamine, 123, 308, 313

Hyoscyamus niger, 123, 243, 308, 314

ibotenic acid, 55, 99, 238

immortality, 4-5, 25, 43, 46-50, 53, 59, 65, 73, 77, 84, 93, 95, 122, 127-132, 138, 140, 173, 212, 214, 246, 254, 311, 317

indhu, 5, 45

India, 1-5, 17, 25, 31, 35-42, 45, 47-50, 53, 57-71, 73, 78, 83, 86-87, 99, 102, 105, 107, 113-114, 118, 128-129, 133-134, 136, 139, 149-150, 152, 156, 161, 172-173, 184-192, 196-197, 204, 206-211, 215, 217, 221-224, 239, 244, 246, 252, 254, 263-264, 287, 299-300, 303, 307-316

Indo-European, 33-38, 49-50, 62-63, 65-66, 164-165, 177, 186, 233, 254, 299, 311, 314

Indo-Iranian, 33-34, 58, 65-67, 314

Indra, 23, 44-46, 49, 56-57, 63, 92, 95-96, 99-100, 106-110, 114, 135, 146, 155, 160, 165, 180-181, 197, 206, 212, 220, 224, 241, 245, 299, 311, 313-314, 319-320

Indus Valley, 30, 32-35, 38-42, 46-47, 66-67, 72, 88, 106, 208, 299, 301

Ineffable Ash Lord, 105

initiation, ii, ix, xiv, 2, 24-26, 76-78, 99, 113-119, 121, 123, 125, 127, 129, 131, 133, 135-138, 160, 175, 178, 183, 187-190, 194-197, 224, 229, 254-255, 260, 265, 267, 311, 319

Ishtar, 207-209

Jain, 1, 122, 133, 318

Jainism, 50, 77, 206, 254, 301

jalāṣah, 57

Japan, 3, 90, 133, 136, 160-162, 168-170, 183, 201, 253

jasmine, 278

jaya, 173-174

Jayoṣṇīṣa, 170

Jones, 35-36

Jonesia asoca, 216, 310

juice, 5, 34, 46, 48, 66, 114, 151, 210, 212, 276, 314, 317-318

Jung, 257, 315

Juniperus recurva, 281, 308

Kadam, 186

kadamba, 218-219

Kagyud, 186-187, 190-191, 227, 231, 315, 320

kalakhuta, 83-84, 140

Kālī, 51, 102-103, 235-236

Kalidaśa, 45

Kālidevī, 235

Kamadhenu, 145-146, 200, 311, 314

Kandahar, 166

kapāla, 104, 240, 242, 247, 275, 315

kāpālika, 104-107, 135, 241-242, 247, 301, 315

Karma Lingpa, 192

Karṇaripa, 129-132, 134-135, 206, 247, 311, 315, 321

kartri, 247, 315

Kārttikeya, 140-141

Kashmir, 184, 278, 303

khadira, 209-213, 221-222, 226

Khampa, 193-194

khandro lapuk, 280, 310, 321

khandroma, 246, 277, 320

khareśwarī, 106

khaṭvāṅga, 104, 231, 238, 242-247, 275

Khotan, 38, 184

King Menander, 166

King Milinda, 167

King Nāga Lord, 103

King Śālabhanda, 129

Kirati, 63

Korea, 90, 183, 253

Kṛiṣṇa, 55-56, 197, 319

Kṛiṣṇācārya, 28

Kubera, 103, 157, 201

Kukkuripa, 187

Kumara, 141

kuṇḍalinī, 56, 83, 315, 317

Kurukṣetra, 37

kuśa, xiii, 64, 224-225, 277, 309

Kyepo, 277

kykeon, 65, 307

Ladakh, 3, 183

Lama, 1-2, 14-17, 24-25, 116, 129, 137, 184, 190, 209, 217, 249, 265-266, 269, 292, 315, 320-321

lamellae, 166

Langdarma, 186, 302

Laos, 183

lapis lazuli, 32, 158-159

Lawapa, 280

lightning, 45, 53, 69, 99, 132, 157, 233, 236

lin chi, 46, 202-204, 308

Ling Repa, 277

lingchen, 277, 321

Lives of the Eighty-four Siddhas, 125-126, 129, 134, 136

Lodha people, 128, 318

lotus, 59-60, 86, 91-92, 130, 132, 142, 157, 160, 165-170, 173, 184, 202, 208-209, 219, 232, 285, 308, 316

LSD, 8, 17-22, 52, 61, 116, 119, 192, 218, 223-224, 246, 260, 269, 297, 308, 313

ludu dorje, 278-279, 308, 321

ma huang, 281, 308

Macha, 37

Mag Tured, 37

Mahadevan, 35, 41, 49, 65

Mahākāla, 77, 89, 105, 201, 235

Mahāmayūrī, 141-142, 218, 221, 237, 315

mahāsiddha, 125, 187, 280, 303, 315-316, 319

Mahāvīra, 233

Mahāviṣṇu, 108

Mahāyāna, 16, 24, 74-75, 89, 91, 129, 131, 142, 147, 157, 164, 183, 185, 206, 259, 261-267, 272-273, 312, 315-318

Mahodgatoṣṇīṣa, 170

Mahoṣṇīṣa, 169-170, 179-180

makara, 94, 154, 174-175, 217

maṇḍala, xiv, 5, 25, 77, 98, 103, 116, 125, 168-169, 171-172, 178, 188-190, 198, 216, 227, 230, 232, 237, 274-275, 312-315

maṇḍala painted in cinnabar, 190

Mañjuśrī, 110, 141, 160, 202, 204, 237

mantra, 6, 16, 25, 43, 61-62, 76-77, 102, 113-119, 133, 138, 142, 156, 161, 173, 180-181, 189, 220-223, 232, 242-243, 265-266, 272-273, 288, 311, 317

Manu, 37, 43, 68, 149-150, 234, 315

MAOI (MAO-inhibitor), 58-59, 211-214, 225, 281, 307, 309-310, 312-316

MAPS, 268

Mārīci, 216

Mārīcī, 209, 215-220, 315

Marpa, 187-188, 192, 196, 227, 265-266, 289, 302-303, 315

Maya yoga, 260

Medicine Buddha, 103, 158, 312

Mehrgarh, 31-32

Meluhha, 39

Mercury, 212-213

mercury, 127, 190, 276, 283

Meru, 48, 82, 90, 93, 109-110, 160

Mesopotamia, 40, 208-209

Milarepa, 187-191, 196, 227, 265, 291, 302-303, 314-315, 321

Mimosa pudica, 210, 308, 322

mK’as Grub.rJe, 118

Mohenjo-daro, 33, 39, 42

Mongolia, 3, 17, 133, 183, 237

mongoose, 201

mono-amine-oxidase, 58, 313

monsoon, 44-45, 53, 67, 99, 197, 241

morning glory, 8-9, 17, 25, 61, 308

Mt. Mandara, 83, 110, 160, 206

Muchmor, 54

mucus, 105, 189-190

mudra, 144, 209, 223, 226

Munda, 163, 233, 274-275, 299

Murugan, 141

musa, 199, 284

muscimol, 55, 99, 238, 243

mushroom curry, 194

Myanmar, 1, 183, 261

mycorrhizal, 107, 132, 144, 206, 252

Myristica fragrans, 279, 285, 308

myrobalan, 110-111, 127-128, 157-159, 285, 309-313, 316, 318

nabhi ekapad, 177

nāga, 37, 73, 75, 83-84, 92, 95-98, 101-103, 109-110, 129, 151, 160, 198, 215, 224, 242-243, 278

nāgapuṣpa, 215, 313

Nāgārjuna, 57, 75, 108, 127-134, 159, 247, 311, 316

Nāgasena, 167

Nāgeśvara-rājā, 103, 275

nāginī, 83, 98

Nairatmya, xviii, 231, 249

nakula, 201

Nālanda, 136, 187

Nandi, 87, 89, 106, 301

nandipada, 72-73

Naqshbandi, 214

Nāropa, 187-188, 196, 227, 265-266, 303

Natakubera, 102-103

navel, 177, 234

nectar, 4-5, 50, 65, 102, 113, 118, 124-126, 151, 155, 204-205, 210, 236, 241, 284

Gr. nektar, 48-49

neem, 217, 312

Nepal, 1, 3, 16, 25, 87, 172, 183-184, 331

new translation schools, 186, 192, 319

Niguma, 196-197

Nīladaṇḍa, 89, 155, 216

Nīlakāṇṭha, 85-86, 89-90, 100, 106, 139-140, 166, 313, 317

Nīlalohitā, 141

nipple, 152-153

Niṣpannayogāvalī, 169-170

nutmeg, 8, 279, 285, 308

Nyangrel Nyima Özer, 321

Nyingma, 117, 191-192, 262, 286, 321

Nymphaea stellata, 209

October Equus, 49

Oḍḍiyāna, 214, 244

Ojas-Uṣṇīṣa, 170, 176

old translation school, 318

On the Contemplation of the Two Bodhisattvas King of Healing and Supreme Healer, 157-158

one-eyed, 131-134, 220, 311, 315

Ophiocordyceps sinensis, 279

oral transmission, 190, 227

Orange Sunshine, 21, 24

Orgyen, 184, 321

Orgyenpa, 197

outcaste, 56-57, 254, 318

Oxus Valley, 32-33, 204, 312

p’urba, 11, 13-17, 221, 287, 320

Padmasambhava, 75, 130, 184-186, 189, 191-194, 204, 214, 257, 286-292, 301-302, 316, 318, 320-322

Padmoṣṇīṣa, 170

Pali, 73, 75, 101, 166-167, 179, 195, 262, 300

pañca-makāra, 174

pañcamṛita, 77, 139

Pao Hsiang Lou, 168-170

papilla, 152

Parasol, i, ix, 70, 105, 129, 131, 147-163, 170-175, 198, 211, 229, 235, 238, 269, 300-301, 312

parasol-like, 105, 211

Parpola, 47, 67

Parsons, 35

Parvatī, 174, 198

Pāśupata, 104, 107, 135

patākā, 156

patra, pattra, see also atapatra 157, 159-160

pavamana, 52, 57, 317-318

peacock, ix, 4, 77-78, 113, 115, 126, 138-146, 154, 189, 218, 221, 225, 235, 237-238, 255, 274, 314

peganon of the Greeks, 213

Peganum harmala, 58, 211-213, 225, 281, 309, 314, 316

Pema Lingpa, 192-194, 293, 321

penis, 56-57, 125, 198-199, 275

perlolyrine, 279, 281

Persia, 35, 37, 65, 302, 314

pestle, 199, 201

pi, 201

pig, 35, 73, 98, 219-220, 228-229, 318

pill, ix, 21-22, 27-28, 121-124, 127-128, 178, 183, 191-192, 234, 246, 269, 281-291, 293, 312-315, 317, 320-321

Pliny, 212

poison, 83-85, 90, 93, 95-99, 109, 139-141, 177, 188, 223, 274

poppy, 33-34, 309, 316

Pradipoddyotana, 196

Praises to the Twenty-one Tārās, 172

Prakrit, 135, 142, 314, 316

pravargya, 233, 247

Preṣakā, 237-238

Prince Great-Herb, 150

psilocin, 18, 52, 86-87, 150, 255, 316

Psilocybe, 18, 41, 45, 52, 58, 86, 88, 92, 100, 103-107, 119, 125, 135, 139, 150-154, 159-166, 173-176, 179-180, 197, 204, 216, 218, 225-226, 230, 238, 245, 252-253, 255, 265, 309, 316

Ps. argentipes, 255

Ps. cubensis, 18, 41, 58, 67, 87, 104, 135, 146, 197, 235, 252

Ps. liniformans, 161, 255

Ps. mexicana, 18, 52, 309

psilocybin, ix, xvii, 18-19, 41, 52, 150, 218, 255, 268, 294-297, 316

purāṇa, 50, 82, 85, 100, 253

pus, 123, 139

pūtika, 233-234, 316

pūtka, 233-234

Rāgarāja, 201-202

Ragnarøk, 37

Rāhu, ix, 84, 93, 95-99, 101, 103, 105, 107-111, 126, 160, 174-175, 219-220, 313

rasa, 276

rasāmṛita, 276

rasayāna, 276

Ratnoṣṇīṣa, 170

Rauwolfia, 42, 309

raven’s bread, 108

Rechungpa, 189-191, 196, 302, 321

reishi, 202

Rematī, 154, 177, 235-237, 241-242, 281, 283

revived corpse, 123, 237

Rheum nobile, 280, 310, 320

Rheum palmatum, 60, 280, 310, 316

rhubarb, 60, 279-280, 310, 316, 320

ru yi, 203-204

Rudgley, Richard, 35, 60, 331

Rudra, 46-48, 57-58, 67, 85, 87, 90-92, 95-96, 100, 104-107, 135, 141, 144, 146, 159, 163, 179, 181, 202, 236-237, 241-242, 252-253, 317

rudras, 47-48, 67, 90-91, 146, 236, 241-242, 317

Rudrasūnu, 141

sadak, 185

sādhaka, 102, 317

sādhana, xiv, 27, 77, 91, 102, 119, 133, 189-190, 201, 217, 219, 233, 238, 275, 287-290, 317

sahasrapajas, 213

Śaiva, 1, 79, 88, 100, 108, 125, 134-136, 215, 248, 301, 315, 317

Śaivite, 76, 104, 137, 247

Śaktā, 1

Sakya, 186, 189, 293, 303, 322

Śākyamuni, 70, 169, 300

saliva, 105, 189-190

Sañchi, 69, 149, 167

sandhyābhāṣā, 124

sang-khang, 281

Sangha, 28, 157, 159, 263, 272-273

Santal, 41, 233-234, 316

Śāntarakṣita, 184-185

sapphire, 151-152

Śarabhū, 141

Saraha, 187, 227

Sarianidi, 32-34, 64

Sarma, 191, 246, 322

śarva, 46-47, 91, 202, 317

Śatapatha Brāhmaṇa, 62-63, 121, 317

Śavari, 144

Śavarīpa, 144

scopolamine, 123, 308, 313

secret societies, 28

secret water, 197

Śekhara, 238

semen, 77, 123, 139, 141

serpent king, 83

Shangpa, 196

shawl, 46, 48, 91, 94, 107

Shi-huang, 203

Shingon, 3, 183, 201

Shining Lightning, 157

Shulgin, v-vi, xii, xvii

Siberian, 54-55, 197, 206

Sida cordifolia, 281, 284-286, 310

siddha, 57, 66, 76, 102, 122, 125-131, 134-136, 144, 146, 174, 185, 196-197, 227, 244, 247, 311, 315, 317, 321-322

Siddhartha, 70-73, 164, 186, 211, 215, 224, 272-273, 312

Siddhasena, 141

siddhi, ix, 28, 113-119, 121-127, 129, 131-137, 195-196, 234, 277, 312, 321

Sikkim, 3, 183, 280

śilajit, 280

śilīndhraka, 149-150, 317

Siṃhamukhā, 103, 154

śirīṣa, 278

Sitātapatrā, 147, 153, 172, 174, 253

Sitātapatroṣṇīṣa, 158-162, 169-170, 174

Śiva, 27, 40, 46, 48, 50, 67, 72, 77, 82-92, 97, 100, 104-107, 123, 125, 135-136, 139-141, 149, 155, 166, 174, 179, 198, 202, 206-207, 211, 215, 229, 235, 241, 243-246, 252-253, 312-313, 315-318

Skanda, 140-141, 221

skullcup, xviii, 2-6, 89, 92, 104, 141, 154, 185, 188-189, 197, 204, 227, 230-232, 237-242, 247, 249, 275, 313, 315

snakeroot, 42, 309

Soma, ix, xvi, 46-47, 51, 63, 87-88, 106, 181, 199-200, 212-213, 241

soma, ix, xvi, 5-6, 27, 33-35, 41-49, 51-67, 75, 82, 87-88, 92-111, 114-116, 120-121, 127, 130, 133, 136-137, 141, 146, 150, 153-155, 160, 165, 174, 176-182, 197-201, 204, 210-213, 224, 233-238, 240-242, 245, 247, 254, 276, 280-283, 307, 311-318, 320, 322

soma radza, 281, 322

soma-siddhanta, 105-106

soma-vallari, 212

Somapati, 44, 57, 106, 110, 114, 146, 180, 197, 314

Songtsen Gampo, 184, 291, 322

spores, 104-105, 125, 135, 141, 178, 230, 312

Śri Lanka, 90, 107, 183

Ssu-ma Ch’ien, 203

Star Light, 157

star of David, 233

Strabo, 44

stūpa, 167

Subramanya, 141

Sufis, 214

sukkara-maddava, 73

sukra, 213

Sumeria, 208

śunyatā, 134, 258-259, 318

Surā, 114-115

Surya, 36, 110, 219

sūtra, 23-24, 74-75, 101, 129, 147

sutta, 73-75

Syrian rue, 58-59, 211-213, 225, 281, 309, 316

tantra, 1, 17, 28, 43, 75-77, 83, 88, 108, 116, 120, 124-126, 132-136, 171-174, 177-179, 186-189, 195-196, 204-207, 214, 217, 227-231, 234, 242, 244, 248-249, 253, 264-265, 277-278, 287-289, 301, 311-315, 318-319

Tantric, 1-6, 16-17, 25, 27-28, 57, 76-79, 86, 99-100, 102-103, 108, 113-114, 116-120, 124-126, 133-139, 146, 150, 152, 166, 169, 171, 175, 180, 182-188, 192, 195-199, 204, 217, 219, 225, 231, 234, 239-241, 244, 249, 252-254, 264-266, 268, 274, 278, 314-319, 322

Tārā, 102, 110, 129, 142, 171-172, 205-218, 220-223, 255, 318, 320

Cintāṃaṇi-Tārā, 205

Jangulī Tārā, 142, 220-221

Khadiravaṇī Tārā, 209, 215, 220-221

Māraniṣūdanī Tārā, 217

Varada Tārā, 217

White Tārā, 205

Tārāka War, 212

Tārānatha, 291

taste, 65, 113, 175, 228, 236-237, 241, 276, 321

tea, xi, 10, 14, 20-21, 190-191, 196, 211, 224, 227, 283

Tejoṣṇīṣa, 170

Ten Mothers, 236

Tendai, 3, 136, 183

terma, 191-194, 301-302, 312, 316, 318, 322

terton, 75, 191-194, 197, 286-293, 301, 321-322

testicles, 125-126

tetrahydroharmine, 211, 279

Thailand, 1, 14, 90, 183

Theravada, 24, 90, 183, 195, 262-263

Thitarodes spp., 279

thousand eyes, 46-47, 57, 78, 92, 95-96, 106-107

thunderbolt, 13-17, 25, 27, 44-45, 76, 92, 95-96, 99-100, 110, 146, 155-156, 170, 173, 180, 190, 219, 222, 227, 241, 243, 245, 265, 278, 314, 318-319

Thunderbolt sow, 190, 227

tiara, 238-240, 245, 248

Tibet, ix, xiii, 1-4, 11, 14-19, 28, 48, 65, 75, 78, 90, 102, 113, 117, 139, 172, 182-189, 191-193, 196, 206, 220, 244, 252, 262, 266, 269, 278, 280-281, 283, 287, 302, 308, 310, 315-319, 322

Tibetan Book of the Dead, 19, 21, 192-193, 257, 262, 312, 320

Tikṣṇoṣṇīṣa, 170

Totori Ñentsen, 184, 322

Trisong Detsen, 184-185, 191, 322

triśula, 72

tropane alkaloids, 123, 308, 312-313

Trout, Keeper 210

tryptamine, 58, 210, 218, 279, 311, 313

Tsang-nyön Heruka, 187

Tsari, 252, 277-278, 280, 282, 289

Tu-Shun, 24

turtle, 50, 83, 85, 233

twins, 37

two brothers, 159

ucchilīndhra, 149

udders, 45, 275, 311, 314

udgata, 176

Udgatoṣṇīṣa, 170, 176

umbo, 152-153, 155, 162, 226

umbrella, 44-45, 147, 149, 151-157, 170-175, 181, 235, 237, 320

unicorn, 40-41, 88

Unnata-uṣṇīṣa, 176

Upaniṣad, 28, 44, 318

urine, 11, 26, 53-55, 57, 77, 95, 97, 99, 123-124, 126, 139, 175, 190-191, 195-198, 201, 227

uṣṇīṣa, 104, 147, 155, 166-176, 179-180, 228, 253

Uṣṇīṣa-vikiraṇa, 169

Uṣṇīṣajvāla, 172

Uṣṇīṣasitātapatrā, 147-149, 153-156, 159, 162-163, 166, 172, 180-182

Uṣṇīṣavijayā, 153, 172

utpala, 209, 230

Uttaṅka, 55-57, 197

vāhana, 126, 197, 199

Vaiḍūrya-nirbhāsa, 158

Vaiśravana, 201

vajra, 17, 25, 27, 44, 61, 76, 89, 92-95, 99, 124-125, 146, 155, 171, 173, 188-189, 220, 223, 227, 232, 243, 245, 265, 318-319

Vajrapāṇi, 93-103, 108, 110, 180, 242, 244, 319

Vajravārāhī, 190-191, 219, 227-229, 231, 233, 235, 247-248, 319

Vajrayāna, v, xiv, 1-6, 16-17, 21, 25, 27, 56-57, 75-79, 100, 103-104, 107-108, 113-119, 125-126, 131-138, 152, 155, 159-160, 163, 166, 168, 172-173, 178, 182-183, 185, 187, 199, 201-202, 204, 220, 222-224, 228, 230, 237, 239, 241-244, 248-249, 252-255, 260, 262-269, 272-275, 277, 280, 284, 311-319

Vajrayoginī, 117, 227-235, 238-240, 245-249, 252, 313, 319

Vajroṣṇīṣa, 170

vallari, 212

varada-mudra, 209

Varuna, 36, 44, 51, 319

vase, 3, 90, 109, 116, 118, 141, 143, 199-201, 230-232, 237, 243, 246

Vāsuki, 83

Veda, xv, 5-6, 33, 37-38, 42-48, 52, 64, 67, 70, 82-85, 90-92, 99-101, 110, 120-121, 136, 149-150, 163, 177, 212-213, 234, 236, 238, 241, 254, 276, 280-283, 311-312, 315-319

Atharva Veda, 43, 64

Ṛig Veda, xv, 5, 37, 42-44, 52-54, 57, 60, 83, 92, 120, 136, 163, 177, 212-213, 241, 311, 315-317

Sama Veda, 43, 317

Yajur Veda, 43, 46-48, 58, 67, 85, 91, 121, 236, 241, 317, 319

Vedic, 5-6, 36-38, 44-53, 57-67, 82, 86, 91-92, 96, 99-100, 104-107, 110, 113-121, 133-137, 146, 149, 153, 156, 176-179, 200, 202, 210-213, 229, 234, 236-242, 247-248, 252-254, 281, 301, 311-312, 316-319

Venus, 208, 212-213, 318

vetala, 122-123, 237

Vetālī, 237-238

Victory banner, 141, 156-157, 160, 172, 174, 189, 269

Vietnam, 90, 183, 268

vijaya, 173-174

Vijayoṣṇīṣa, 170

Vikiraṇoṣṇīṣa, 169-170

viśa, 83

Viṣṇu, 56, 82-85, 107-112, 135, 160, 164-166, 174, 179-180, 221, 224-227, 233, 274-275, 318-319

viśvavajra, 243, 245, 319

Viśvoṣṇīṣa, 170, 173

vomiting, 8, 176, 282

Vyali, 127, 159, 319

Wasson, R, Gordon, 45, 52-59, 73, 87, 106, 132, 151, 181, 204, 311

water buffalo, 4, 41, 78-79, 125-126, 309

wheel turner, 70, 164, 172, 179

white juniper, 281-282

white ludu dorje, 279

White Mahākāla, 201

White Parasol Crown bump, 159-160, 162

wine, 60, 109, 114-115, 164, 224, 280

wish-granting cow, 145

wish-granting gem, 198-201, 203-205, 217, 275

wish-granting wheel, 205

yage, 58, 211, 214, 261, 279, 307, 312

yakṣa, 45, 100-103, 109-110, 215-216, 220

yaksha, 28, 102, 289

Yamāntaka, 143, 237

Yamāri, 143

yartsa gunbu, 279, 322

Yeshe Tsogyäl, 2, 185-186, 191, 291, 293, 316, 322

yoginī, 189, 197, 227, 239, 248, 319

Zen, i, 12, 24, 183, 202, 259, 263, 268

Zig Zag Zen, i, 268

zombie, 78, 122, 237, 317, 322

β-carboline, 58-59, 211, 214, 218-219, 279, 281, 312, 314, 316

AUTHOR BIO

MICHAEL CROWLEY was born February 26th, 1948 in Cardiff, Wales. He began studying Buddhism with a Tibetan lama in 1966, becoming an upasaka of the Kagyud lineage in 1970. In order to augment his Buddhist studies, he acquainted himself with Sanskrit, Tibetan, and Mandarin Chinese. Mike has lectured at the Museum of Asia and the Pacific, Warsaw, the Jagellonian University, Cracow, the California Institute of Integral Studies, San Francisco, and at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. His work has been published in Fortean Times, Time and Mind: The Journal of Archaeology, Consciousness, and Culture, Psychedelic American, and Psychedelic Press UK. In January 2016, Mike received the R. Gordon Wasson Award for outstanding contributions to the field of entheobotany. He currently serves on the advisory board of The Psychedelic Sangha, a group of psychedelically-inclined Buddhists, based in New York.

FIGURE 115. Ekajati tramples a corpse while wielding a mummified corpse and a human heart. She has one eye, one tooth, and one breast. She also has only one leg though she is often depicted, as here, with two. She is the guardian of secrets, especially of concealed termas. Tibetan drawing. [Chandra]

ALSO FROM SYNERGETIC PRESS

ZIG ZAG ZEN

Buddhism and Psychedelics
by Allan Badiner and Alex Grey
Foreword by Stephen Batchelor
Preface by Huston Smith

ETHNOPHARMACOLOGIC SEARCH FOR PSYCHOACTIVE DRUGS

50 Years of Research (1967–2017)

Editied by Dennis McKenna with Sir Ghillean Prance, Benjamin DeLoenen, and Wade Davis

BIRTH OF A PSYCHEDELIC CULTURE

Conversations about Leary, the Harvard Experiments, Millbrook and the Sixties

by Ram Dass and Ralph Metzner with Gary Bravo

Foreword by John Perry Barlow

AYAHUASCA READER

Encounters with the Amazon’s Sacred Vine

Edited by Luis Eduardo Luna & Steven F. White

THE RENAISSANCE OF TIBETAN CIVILIZATION

Foreword by the Dalai Lama

by Christoph von Fürer-Haimendorf

VINE OF THE SOUL

Medicine Men, Their Plants and Rituals in the Colombian Amazonia

by Richard Evans Schultes and Robert F. Raffauf

Foreword by Sir Ghillean T. Prance

Preface by Wade Davis