Part One
Today we're eating at Hayagriva's Diner, the Michelin-starred pitstop joint of the Wrathfully Compassionate One. The menu is ever-changing, but guarantees to serve something for every taste. From heavenly lite-bites to hefty fibre-and-carbohydrate helpings for those with voracious appetites. From sweet and ambrosial desserts to concoctions that will have you rushing to the nearest pharmacy. Hayagriva's Diner serves them all.
Is it vegan fayre dished up in the Diner, or vegetarian maybe? Like many things, I don't know. But for sure, the Wrathfully Compassionate One doesn't go in for lettuce-and-cucumber sandwiches. And he's no soyboy. And, once inside, you'll find the vibe closer to that of a burger joint than a smoothie-and-quinoa hangout. The juke box in the corner belts out incessantly Jim Morrison intoning 'Roadhouse Blues'. But at this point, personal peccadilloes are overwhelming the Hayagriva bit of the business.
In reality, Hayagriva doesn't need any of this stuff at all. His nourishment derives from the sweet, divine nectar of gnosis. From the liquid fire that is kundalini. From the flow and play of the infinite energy of the universe. But it's a game that he likes to play.
Part Two
I make no claim to 'expertise' when it comes to Hayagriva. I have received no empowerments or had special blessings conferred. I have done no formal Hayagriva meditation or had instructions in his mantra. For me, it's not really about that. It's simply that, when you meet Hayagriva, when you feel his great presence, you just know that he's the One....
Time for some primary level education. I have no intention of going into the many symbols and attributes of Hayagriva here. These can be accessed DIY-style by anybody sufficiently interested. I'm more concerned with his overall vibe, his feeling. What is it that communicates from the presence of our terrifying masterchef?
Hayagriva turns up in various guises at various times in various bits and pieces of Hindu and Buddhist traditions. This is enough to drive crazy anybody who insists on simple logic and order as rulers of their universe. But it's just how things grew up, I suppose.
'Buddhism' is an umbrella word, a catch-all term, which imposes a somewhat artificial uniformity upon a multitude of different traditions. There is no central 'authority', no Buddhist pope. Hinduism is even more so, enough to drive any slave to consistency nuts. Things just started, morphed, interwove with other things, morphed again, often on quite local levels. The result, if you can discard the habit of trying to fit everything together nicely, is an incredible richness for the imagination.
Personally, my familiarity is confined to Hayagriva as he manifests in Indo-Tibetan Buddhist Tantra. This is who Hayagriva is to me. He is one of the prime 'wrathful deities', as they are termed. There are peaceful deities, or Buddhas or Bodhisattvas, generally the better known figures; and there are their wrathful aspects or counterparts. So, for example, the well-known Avalokitesvara (also Kuan-Yin in Japan), Bodhisattva of Compassion, has a wrathful form, Mahakala, Great Death. At first glance, Mahakala doesn't look very compassionate at all. Manjusri, Lord of Wisdom, has as his wrathful counterpart Yamantaka, a monstrous-looking buffalo-type. And so on.
Hayagriva is reckoned to be the wrathful manifestation of Amitabha, a red Buddha who presides over the feeling faculty, if you like. Buddhaweekly (an online source with a good piece on the Wrathfully Compassionate One) describes him as the 'Incredible Hulk' emanation of Amitabha.
Amitabha is also Buddha of 'Discriminating Wisdom', most relevant in the modern day and age. Discriminating and distinguishing; seeing differences. It's not all One, man, after all. There is One and there are Two; and there are Many. The presence of Amitabha and Hayagriva recognises that difference exists, and it is a vital aspect to the fabric of the universe. Light, dark; masculine, feminine: the sacred polarities, one way in which the spiritual reveals itself.
Part Three
"Where 'ordinary' pacifying speech and compassion are insufficient to the goal - the goal of Enlightenment, or removing the obstacles to Liberation - then normally a Vajrayana Buddhist turns to the Heruka or Wrathful emanations."
This quote from Buddhaweekly spells out part of the story, but only part. To get divinely turned on by the wrathful ones requires a turnaround in ones basic attitude. It predicates a recognition, a realisation about the nature of energy in human life. All the stuff conventionally considered as keeping us in the pig trough - rage, sex, anger, jealousy, passion, desire - gets flipped on its head. Instead of being enemies to be vanquished or fled, they become allies, energies at the service of the Great Quest, the Big Trip, direct emanations of reality.
I have long felt a certain rapport with the wrathful ones. But this heated up no end as the kundalini energy came close to waking up properly in my body. A change in perception took place, whereby what was once to be 'escaped' or 'overcome' was now seen as necessary elements in the working of the universe. 'Feeling' is feeling; 'energy' is energy'. Void of inherent qualities, it just is. Everything else we just hang onto it by dint of our own predisposition to blindness. In this way, I could term myself a DIY Tantrik. Maybe this is the way for the west.
The peaceful Buddhas are more familiar to most people. At first sight they seem more accessible, less threatening and overwhelming. But it is Chogyam Trungpa who makes the point that, in reality, it is the wrathful ones who can be easier to engage with.
Sit in front of a peaceful Buddha form, with all your confusion, your turmoil, your lust, your resentment, your envy. The Buddha just looks back, smiling the eternal smile. Communication is impossible. It can drive you crazy. But take your mess to a wrathful deity, and it will respond. Respond in kind. There is movement, the possibility of communication, the potential for resolving something in the deep dark feelings which bounce to and fro in a frenzied ping-pong of exchange.
Part Four
Hayagriva reaches apotheosis in yab-yum. His consort is normally the dakini Vajravarahi. Buddhism is very fond of conceptualising stuff. Yab-Yum, it will sagely inform you, represents the union of wisdom (female) and compassion (male). This is all very well, and might have worked in medieval Tibet. But to 21st century western minds, this can be a cop-out. Confronted with this blood-red hulk in frenzied union with a tinier blue female with the head of a pig, we can short-circuit any real feelings this bizarre image may provoke with our well-honed intellectual musing. "Ah yes. Wisdom and Compassion. Of course. I get it." I understand. I get it. I am in control, thank goodness. And any possibility of real energetic and emotional transformation is extinguished. We can get on with life on channel normal.
Hey, Hayagriva, what's for dessert?
Images: Hayagriva (Rubin Museum of Art)
Soyboy
Amitabha
Hayagriva yab yum (detail)
