Shiva´s holy mountain Kailash as seen from a drone. Actually quite fascinating!
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Shiva´s holy mountain Kailash as seen from a drone. Actually quite fascinating!
The most crazy cryptid story I´ve ever heard?
Tonight´s somewhat strange ChatGPT essay.
Some time ago, I´ve heard that in Mahayana Buddhism, the boddhisattva Avalokiteshvara can save literally anyone, including hell-beings, hungry ghosts and animals?! In orthodox Buddhism, by contrast, only humans can be liberated. So I asked the robot-being about it (not clear if Lokeshvara can save it, too). Strictly speaking, Mahayana also states that only humans can be saved, but Avalokiteshvara can guide non-human beings towards rebirth in the human realm.
Can Avalokiteshvara rescue hell-beings? If so, how?
Yes — in Mahāyāna Buddhism, Avalokiteśvara can and does rescue beings in hell, and there are several ways this is explained in scripture and practice.
The clearest canonical support is in the Lotus Sūtra, Chapter 25 (Samantamukhaparivarta). It says that if beings in any realm — including the hell realms (naraka) — call Avalokiteśvara’s name with sincere faith, the bodhisattva will immediately perceive their cries and relieve their suffering.
In hell, this might mean cooling the flames, dispersing the darkness, or creating a temporary respite in which they can hear the Dharma.
The sūtra emphasizes that Avalokiteśvara’s compassionate perception is instantaneous and non-obstructed — there is no realm he cannot enter.
Buddhist tradition gives several modes:
Avalokiteśvara can take on a form that is comprehensible and approachable to hell-beings — sometimes appearing as a fellow sufferer, sometimes as a radiant deity, sometimes even as Yama’s officer to grant release.
In some East Asian sūtras and visualizations, Avalokiteśvara uses pure water from his vase (kalaśa) to cool the flames of Avīci hell, granting mental clarity.
He may inspire hell-beings to generate a moment of wholesome mind (faith, compassion, repentance), which creates the karmic seed for rebirth in a higher realm or a Pure Land.
In tantric and Pure Land practices, devotees dedicate merit to hell-beings while invoking Avalokiteśvara, enabling the bodhisattva to “carry” that merit to them — effectively shortening their hell-duration.
In Vajrayāna sādhanas, Avalokiteśvara’s compassion is seen as spontaneously pervading all realms — even hell’s intense karmic obscurations cannot block his blessing.
In the Mahākaruṇā Dhāraṇī practice, reciting the dhāraṇī is said to “open the gates of Avīci” and allow beings to ascend out.
Some Tibetan liturgies for Chenrezig explicitly include visualizing hell-beings ascending on beams of light into Amitābha’s Pure Land.
From a Mahāyāna perspective, no being is “sealed off” from liberation.
All realms are mind-created states, and Avalokiteśvara’s compassion operates on the mind-stream directly.
A single moment of contact — even fleeting — can plant the seed for eventual escape, even if full liberation doesn’t happen instantly.
If you’d like, I can pull together three specific Buddhist scriptures (one Mahāyāna, one Vajrayāna, one East Asian) that explicitly narrate Avalokiteśvara rescuing hell-beings — they’re quite vivid.
Avalokiteśvara’s rescue of animals is described in the same “six realms” framework as his rescue of hell-beings, but with different skillful means adapted to the animal state of mind.
In Lotus Sūtra, Ch. 25, Avalokiteśvara is praised for saving “beings of every form” from suffering. Commentaries (esp. Chinese Tiantai and Tibetan Mahāyāna glosses) explicitly say this includes the tiryagyoni realm — animals, birds, fish, insects, even microscopic beings.
The sūtra’s idea is that compassion is non-discriminating — if the bodhisattva hears even the cry of an animal, he responds.
Animals experience ignorance (moha) as their dominant affliction, meaning limited capacity for conceptual Dharma.
They often live in fear, predation, and short lifespans.
Language barriers mean Avalokiteśvara must use non-verbal, intuitive methods.
Avalokiteśvara can intervene to:
Guide them to safer environments (e.g., a trapped animal suddenly finding a way out).
Inspire humans to protect or rescue them.
By blessing an animal’s mind-stream with contact — even fleetingly — Avalokiteśvara plants seeds that ripen into a higher rebirth, often in the human realm where they can hear and practice the Dharma.
Avalokiteśvara is said to manifest as animals themselves — a deer, a bird, a fish — to communicate safety or lead beings out of danger. Tibetan Jātaka-style retellings sometimes feature Avalokiteśvara as a compassionate animal leader.
In tantric contexts (e.g., Chenrezig sādhanas), visualizations include extending light to all beings — including animals — purifying their karmic obscurations and transferring them to a Pure Land rebirth.
Animal liberation rituals (fangsheng in Chinese Buddhism, tshe thar in Tibetan) are often done while chanting Avalokiteśvara’s mantra (oṁ maṇi padme hūṁ), with the idea that hearing the mantra plants liberation seeds in the animal’s mind.
Nepalese and Tibetan prayers sometimes explicitly address “beings in the ocean and sky” as recipients of Avalokiteśvara’s blessings.
If you want, I can share a short Avalokiteśvara animal-rescue parable from the Tibetan tradition — it’s a good illustration of how compassion operates even without shared language or human-like understanding.
Avalokiteśvara’s rescue of hungry ghosts (pretas) is another dimension of his six-realm compassion. Because pretas are characterized by insatiable craving and intense suffering, the methods are adapted to their state of mind.
Pretas experience unending hunger and thirst, often for substances they cannot consume.
Their minds are dominated by greed, attachment, and karmic constriction, which makes conventional Dharma teaching difficult.
They are more sensitive to immediate karmic interventions than to abstract philosophical instruction.
Avalokiteśvara can appear in a form perceptible and reassuring to pretas — e.g., radiant, powerful, and nourishing.
In some sādhanas, he is visualized pouring nectar or food that pretas can consume spiritually, alleviating their suffering.
Even a moment of contact with Avalokiteśvara’s compassion can plant a seed of merit, which gradually allows pretas to be reborn in a more favorable realm.
Through the bodhisattva’s intervention, karmic constrictions are softened, creating conditions for future liberation.
Recitation of Om Mani Padme Hum or the Mahākaruṇā Dhāraṇī while visualizing pretas is believed to purify their negative karma.
In East Asian Buddhism, rituals like Ullambana (the Ghost Festival) dedicate merit to hungry ghosts while invoking Avalokiteśvara’s aid.
Avalokiteśvara can receive offerings on behalf of pretas, allowing them to partake in the spiritual benefits they otherwise could not access.
This “merit transfer” is considered one of the most effective ways to relieve their intense suffering.
Lotus Sūtra Ch. 25 explicitly mentions Avalokiteśvara responding to beings of every form, including pretas.
Ullambana sūtras and Tibetan Chenrezig texts describe Avalokiteśvara appearing to hungry ghosts during times of ritual offering, providing nourishment or leading them to higher rebirth.
In essence, Avalokiteśvara meets each being according to its condition: for hell-beings, he cools the flames; for animals, he guides or protects them; for hungry ghosts, he feeds, relieves craving, and plants seeds for liberation — all through compassionate presence, skillful means, and merit transference.
If you like, I can make a table showing exactly how Avalokiteśvara saves each of the six realms — it’s a very systematic way Mahāyāna texts present it.
Alright, here’s one from the Tibetan tradition that’s both short and to the point:
In a remote Himalayan valley, a herd of deer was being hunted mercilessly during a harsh winter. The snow was so deep that their usual escape routes were blocked, and many were starving.
One night, the lead doe dreamed of a tall, white figure with eleven faces and a thousand arms, each holding a tool of aid — a bowl of grain, a warm fire, a stream of water. The figure spoke not in words, but with a feeling that filled her with courage and an impulse to move east.
When she awoke, she urged the herd to follow her. Against their instincts, they moved toward a ridge they had never crossed in winter. At the top, they found a hidden grove with bare but edible shrubs and a warm spring that hadn’t frozen. There they survived until the snows melted.
Later, a wandering monk discovered the grove and built a small shrine to Chenrezig (Avalokiteśvara), believing the deer’s salvation had been a compassionate manifestation. Locals say that even now, the deer of that valley linger near the shrine without fear.
Lesson in Mahāyāna terms:
No verbal teaching was possible — Avalokiteśvara’s intervention came through intuition, dream imagery, and guiding impulse.
The aid was immediate (saving their lives) but also karmic — planting a seed of connection to the bodhisattva in their mind-streams for future human rebirth.
If you’d like, I can also share the hungry ghost rescue story from the same tradition — it’s even stranger, because the “food” Avalokiteśvara gave couldn’t be seen by humans at all.
Alright — here’s the Tibetan hungry ghost rescue story:
Long ago, a monastery in eastern Tibet held an annual Ullambana ritual, offering food to hungry ghosts. One year, the monks noticed that a gaunt, invisible presence lingered at the gate during evening prayers — only the dogs barked wildly at the empty air.
One senior monk, a lifelong devotee of Chenrezig, decided to sit by the gate that night and recite the Great Compassion Dhāraṇī. At midnight, he saw — with his mind’s eye — a ghastly being: skin clinging to bone, throat thin as a needle, mouth blazing like fire. The monk felt a surge of pity and called silently to Avalokiteśvara.
Suddenly, a radiant form appeared above the gate, holding a vase of nectar. The nectar poured into the ghost’s mouth without burning it, turning into cool, sweet sustenance. As the being drank, its body began to glow faintly, and its expression softened.
Avalokiteśvara then spoke to the ghost in a language the monk could not understand. The ghost bowed, dissolved into light, and vanished. The monk knew this meant it had taken rebirth in a higher realm.
Mahayana significance:
The ghost could not eat ordinary food — karmic obstruction turned it to flames. The nectar was pure merit transformed into sustenance.
Avalokiteśvara’s aid worked on two levels: immediate relief of suffering and karmic elevation to a rebirth where the Dharma could be heard.
The human intermediary (the monk) provided the karmic invitation through prayer and compassion, but the bodhisattva’s power was decisive.
If you’d like, I can also put together a six-part cycle of such stories — one for each realm — so you get a folkloric picture of Avalokiteśvara’s compassion in action across all planes of existence. It’s basically the narrative version of the table I gave earlier.
Not sure about this. The band is probably well-meaning, but it simply doesn´t sound as magickal in English as it would in, I don´t know, Sanskrit, Old Tibetan or whatever...
Brad is wonderfully heterodox here (well, almost) discussing the Buddha´s precepts against alcohol...and reflecting over a bar in Japan manned by Buddhist monks!
Is the Tibetan diaspora (and Tibetan Buddhism) headed for a succession crisis? China may try to replace the current Dalai lama with their own chosen successor. Meanwhile, the Dalai lama has hinted that the next "reincarnation" will be found outside Chinese-occupied Tibet...
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Credit: Chitta.crb |
Yes, there are alleged eyewitness accounts of Tibetan Buddhist masters who attained the Rainbow Body and later reappeared in a physical form. These reports often describe masters manifesting in dreams, visions, or even seemingly physical appearances after their supposed dissolution. However, such claims remain within the realm of Tibetan religious tradition and belief, rather than scientifically verifiable phenomena.
Time Period: 8th century CE
Alleged Event:
Tibetan texts state that Padmasambhava did not die in a normal way but rather attained the Great Transfer (Rainbow Body of Light).
Many followers believe he still appears to advanced practitioners in visions and even physically manifests at sacred sites in Tibet and India.
Alleged Event:
After attaining Rainbow Body, his physical form vanished, leaving behind only hair and nails.
Some disciples claimed to see him in visions afterward, receiving teachings from him.
His students recorded accounts of his posthumous appearances, reinforcing his spiritual presence.
Alleged Event:
After his body shrank and emitted light, some of his closest disciples reported seeing him in dreams and waking visions.
Some claimed that he spoke to them and gave further teachings even after his physical disappearance.
Alleged Event:
After his passing, monks and disciples reported seeing his physical form appear in different locations, continuing to give guidance.
Some claimed that he continued to influence events from beyond physical existence.
Alleged Event:
According to eyewitnesses, his body shrank and transformed into light at death.
Followers reported receiving messages from him and even seeing him in a tangible form after the event.
Tibetan Buddhism offers several explanations for these alleged posthumous appearances:
Tulku Manifestation – The master can reappear voluntarily in a different form to teach others.
Sambhogakaya Form – The enlightened being manifests in a visionary, subtle form to communicate with advanced practitioners.
Physical Reappearance – Rarely, some traditions claim that certain masters can physically re-materialize.
While Tibetan Buddhist tradition holds that some Rainbow Body masters reappear after dissolution, these accounts are based on religious experiences rather than scientific evidence. Many followers accept these stories as part of their faith, while skeptics view them as visions or symbolic interpretations rather than literal physical reappearances.
Would you like to explore more about the theoretical basis for reappearance in Tibetan Buddhist philosophy?
Many tertöns (treasure revealers), such as Nyangral Nyima Özer (12th century) and Guru Chöwang (13th century), claimed to have encountered Padmasambhava in a physical form while retrieving hidden teachings (terma).
These masters described him as appearing in a youthful or radiant form, guiding them to hidden texts and relics.
The 17th-century master Terdak Lingpa is said to have met Padmasambhava in a physical body in a hidden valley in Tibet.
The 5th Dalai Lama also claimed to have received direct teachings from Padmasambhava through visions that seemed as real as physical encounters.
Dudjom Rinpoche, one of the greatest Nyingma lineage masters, claimed to have met Padmasambhava in a physically tangible form in a remote cave.
He described the experience as Padmasambhava speaking directly and giving teachings.
A close disciple of Jamyang Khyentse Chökyi Lodrö, he was said to have encountered Padmasambhava physically during deep meditation retreats.
He reportedly had a face-to-face meeting with Padmasambhava and received sacred texts from him.
The 13th Dalai Lama regarded him as a genuine recipient of Padmasambhava’s direct transmission.
Tibetan Buddhists view these as literal, physical encounters, where Padmasambhava temporarily manifests a body for the benefit of his students.
Some interpretations suggest that these may be Sambhogakaya manifestations—not ordinary physical appearances but experiences as real as physical encounters for highly realized practitioners.
Skeptics and historians suggest these may be visionary experiences rather than true physical reappearances.
While mainstream historians do not recognize physical reappearances of Padmasambhava, Tibetan Buddhist tradition maintains hundreds of alleged cases where realized masters saw, spoke with, or received teachings from him in a tangible form.
Would you like references to specific Tibetan texts that record these encounters?
According to Tibetan Buddhist tradition, Padmasambhava (Guru Rinpoche) attained the Great Transfer (Rainbow Body of Light) at the end of his time in Tibet. This means that instead of experiencing a normal physical death, he transformed his body into light and left no physical remains. This event is seen as the culmination of his mastery of Dzogchen and Vajrayana practices.
Padmasambhava was believed to have achieved the highest realization of Dzogchen (the Great Perfection), which allows the practitioner to dissolve the physical body into light.
Through phowa (transference of consciousness) and tögal (spontaneous presence meditation), he completely purified his body and mind.
His lifelong practice of Vajrayana tantra, including inner heat (tummo), dream yoga, and deity yoga, helped him transcend physical limitations.
Before departing, Padmasambhava gathered his closest disciples and predicted future events, including the coming of tertöns (treasure revealers) who would find his hidden teachings (terma).
He gave final instructions to King Mutri Tsenpo (the son of Trisong Detsen) and his Tibetan disciples.
According to The Lotus-Born Biography (Nyangral Nyima Özer, 12th century):
Padmasambhava did not die in Tibet but rode a sunbeam to the mystical realm of Zangdok Palri (Copper-Colored Mountain) in the pure land of the dakinis.
Witnesses saw his body radiate light, and he disappeared into the sky.
Only his hair and nails remained, a classic sign of Rainbow Body realization.
He Remains Active in the World
Tibetan Buddhists believe that Padmasambhava never truly left and continues to manifest in visions, dreams, and physical appearances to guide practitioners.
The Model for Future Masters
Many Dzogchen masters (such as Nyala Pema Dündul, Shardza Tashi Gyaltsen, and Khenpo A-chö) are believed to have attained the Rainbow Body by following his path.
Terma Teachings & Prophecies
Before leaving, he hid secret teachings (terma) across Tibet and Bhutan, to be revealed by tertöns like Jamyang Khyentse Wangpo and Dudjom Rinpoche in later centuries.
According to Tibetan tradition, Padmasambhava attained the Great Transfer (Rainbow Body of Light) by fully realizing Dzogchen and Vajrayana practices. Instead of dying, he vanished into light, leaving behind no corpse and traveling to Zangdok Palri, where he continues to guide practitioners.
Would you like a list of Tibetan texts that describe this event in detail?
Surprisingly latitudinarian and non-sectarian advice in these videos, from our old friend Sthaneshwar Timalsina. I assumed he was more into secret nocturnal worship of Kali and such, but here he talks about loving devotion to Shiva.
You can make a lingam out of mud or ice, and offer some of your regular food to Shiva. He won´t mind, the important thing is your spiritual mood. Esoterically, Shiva is your true Self or inner essence, so whatever you enjoy, Shiva enjoys.
It´s actually quite funny for somebody living in Sweden (i.e. me) to see a Hindu walk around in a wintery park and say that he associates Shiva with snow. But then I realized that Timalsina is from Nepal, not from some vast Indian plain! Besides, Shiva´s holy mountain Kailash is in the Himalayas.
Recently deceased film maker David Lynch was an active practitioner of Transcendental Meditation (TM). Or perhaps a member of the TM cult, if you´re more critical of these things. The first video above features Zen Buddhist teacher and author Brad Warner critiquing TM. It´s all in there: the Natural Law Party, the yogic flying, the obsession with celebrity (including the Beatles and Lynch), the claim that TM is just a wholesome meditation technique (when it´s really a guru-centered Shaiva sect) and the expensive mantras. Yepp, a real blast from the past. Or at least the 1970´s.
I assume Lynch must have been interested in Buddhism before he went into TM, since the Dharma is mentioned at several points in "Twin Peaks". Three examples in the clips below. My favorite is "Albert´s path is a strange and difficult one", although it´s not made explicit whether or not the hard nosed detective is specifically a Buddhist. I mean, he could just as well be interpreted as a Quaker?!
At least we´re the happy generations, right?
“Äventyraren Sven Hedin” is a popularized book by Axel Odelberg about the life of famed Swedish explorer Sven Hedin (1865-1952). The author describes Hedin as a man who “found his way in geography but lost it in politics”, which seems to be a fair assessment. Hedin traveled widely in Central, Inner and East Asia. He made sensational archeological discoveries in the deserts, solved the mystery of the “wandering lake” Lop Nur, discovered (or supposedly discovered) Transhimalaya and the sources of several Indian rivers, and attempted to climb Muztagh Ata in Xinjiang. He also made a dramatic but failed attempt to reach Lhasa in Tibet, at the time off limits to foreigners.
Hedin became an international super-celebrity, spoke several European and Asian languages more or less fluently, and met a number of luminaries, including Emperor Meiji of Japan, the British explorer Stanley, Chinese Nationalist leader Chiang Kai-shek, and the Russian Czar Nicholas II. From an upper class background, he also had connections with the Swedish royal court and was apparently the last person in Swedish history to be ennobled. His coat of arms shows a globe centered on Asia!
As a person, Hedin seems to have been both charming, an excellent speaker, tough and somewhat reckless. He was good at flattery, but also easily flattered. Odelberg believes that Hedin was too fixed on the exterior of people he encountered, including the trappings of power. Interestingly, Hedin never got married and had no children. His love affairs were entirely Platonic. I can´t help wondering if he might have been homosexual or even asexual.
His political
views, while conservative at bottom, were frequently idiosyncratic and
mercurial. He turned from being pro-Russian to becoming Sweden´s most prominent
anti-Russian militarist activist, only to develop sympathies for the Bolshevik
regime after the revolution. During his travels, he tried to be on good terms
with both the Russians, the British and the Chinese, while at bottom having a “pro-Asian”
attitude and a contempt for Christian missionaries. His pro-German sympathies
were more fixed, and he was eventually to develop strong pro-Nazi attitudes. Indeed,
Hedin was one of the few Swedes who could meet more or less freely with Hitler
himself, who did his best to flatter the famous explorer with effusive praise.
Hedin´s pro-Nazi sympathies and increasingly prominent anti-Semitism were bizarre,
since he was actually half-Jewish! It´s not clear to me whether Hitler and the
other Nazi leaders knew this.
I admit that I found “Äventyraren Sven Hedin” a fascinating read. I never much cared for Hedin before…well, except for one thing.
In 1914, Hedin made his most memorable (and most controversial) intervention in Swedish politics. He actually used King Gustav V to force the liberal government of Karl Staaff to resign! The short story is that the king addressed a pro-militarist farmers´ march in Stockholm, expressing strong support for larger defense spending. The so-called Courtyard Speech was secretly written by Hedin (something he didn´t admit until 40 years later). The liberal government, which opposed Swedish rearmament, resigned and was replaced by a conservative administration which subsequently was confirmed in a snap election.
This was a remarkable achievement
by Hedin, but it did take place before Sweden introduced universal suffrage. It
was also the last time a Swedish king tried to meddle in politics. Judging by
the book, Hedin managed to remain on good terms (more or less) with all the main
political factions in Sweden even after the 1914 events, which strikes me as
even more remarkable. During World War II, the Swedish government (which was neutral
in the war) used Hedin as a back channel to Hitler. Odelberg speculates that
maybe Hedin played a role when Hitler lobbied Stalin not to force too harsh
peace terms on Finland after the Winter War.
In general, though, Hedin´s pro-Nazi sympathies (rather obviously) destroyed his reputation. He even wrote a panegyrical obituary to Hitler upon learning that the German Führer had shot himself in Berlin, arguing that Hitler was one of the greatest men in world history! It´s not clear to me whether Hedin ever recanted his views, but shortly before his death, he actually criticized the terror against the Jews and against Poland in an interview with an Irish (sic) newspaper.
I´m not sure how to end this review. Maybe by saying that the best are frequently also the worst?
“Buried Bones and Buddhas Beyond. Ancestor Cults in 17th-century Khams
and the Transcendentalisation of Tibetan Religion” is an article by Reinier J.
Langelaar, originally published in 2022 in a collection of scholarly papers on
Tibet. I found it free-standing (and for free) on the web. Langelaar has analyzed
the works of 17th century Buddhist Karma chags med, a native of
Khams or Kham in eastern Tibet who was trained in both the Kagyu and Nyingma
traditions. They apparently form an important milestone in how the pre-Buddhist
ancestor cults of Tibetan villages and clans were “transcendentalized” and
eventually replaced by Buddhism altogether.
The cults of the ancestors are very far removed from Buddhism. The most
obvious difference is that the ancestral spirits don´t reincarnate. Indeed,
it´s not even clear whether they are “spirits” at all, since they are conceptualized
in purely material terms. The only material thing the ancestors lack is an
actual physical body. Otherwise, they have exactly the same desires, thoughts
and even foibles as their living relatives. They can experience hunger, thirst
and cold. Perhaps they even crave sex or love, since there are occasional
reports of ancestors haggling for spouses from among the living! For all these
reasons, the ancestors must be appeased with food, drink, clothing and respectful
worship in general. In return, they bestow good luck on their descendants. If
treated improperly, they can cause misfortune instead, for instance by
attacking horses or livestock.
The entire ancestral cult is very “this-worldly” from a Buddhist perspective. Indeed, Buddhists might even interpret certain aspects of it as an active attempt to stop reincarnation. After the usual “sky-burial”, the bones of the ancestors are gathered together and placed in whitewashed vases together with offerings such as jewels. They are hence supposed to stay around as protectors of the clan. By contrast, Buddhism is “other-worldly”, its goal is the super-intangible nirvana, it believes in some form of rebirth or reincarnation, salvation is not clan-based, and so on.
It seems Karma chags med tried to reconcile the
ancestral cults with Buddhism, but in such a manner that Buddhism remained on
top. Thus, he claimed that Ban thung, the ancestor of the Brong pa clan in
Khams, was a bodhisattva dwelling in a pure Buddha-field, while also emanating
a kind of body double who acted as the chief ancestor of the clan on here on
Earth. Conversely, Buddhist luminaries such as Padmasambhava (who had no known
lineage) were recast as powerful “ancestors”. Karma chags med also introduced
Tantric rituals during the secondary burials. Thus, when gathering the bones of
the deceased ancestor, the powerful bodhisattva Manjushri should be invoked. But
what about reincarnation? Here, the solution was rather obvious: humans have
more than one soul or spirit, one of them remaining as an ancestor, while the other
is reborn in a new body.
Flash forward 400 years. When the author visited Khams, he quickly
realized that the ancestral cults had all but disappeared in the area inhabited
by the Brong pa. Only one person was aware of their previous existence, and
showed the author an old tree-shrine to Ban thung, who had fallen into disuse long
ago. But…Ban thung *is* still worshipped in the area, in the form of an idol
standing on the grounds of a Buddhist monastery! He is, after all, a bodhisattva
now…
I suppose paganism has been successfully replaced in Tibet.
A fascinating article from 2019 about Buddhist space aliens seeking contact in a small town in Thailand, about a three hour journey from Bangkok. Note that the new religious group worshipping these spiritual entities explicitly refer to them as aliens and their vehicles as UFOs! The space brothers supposedly appear on a hill where there is a Buddha statue and a ditto footprint.
The whole thing sounds like a combination of traditional Buddhist beliefs, New Age channeling and the American UFO phenomenon.
The Hindu teacher Sadhguru is also into this kind of syncretism, but I´m not sure if the videos of his visits to Lake Manasarovar in Tibet are still up at YouTube...
“Exorcising the Illusion of Bon “Shamans”: A Critical Genealogy of Shamanism
in Tibetan Religions” by Zeff Bjerken is a scholarly article published in 2004.
It´s a very “in-house” overview of how Western and Asiatic scholars have
interpreted (and presumably misinterpreted) Bon (sometimes spelled Bön), which
is rightly or wrongly regarded as the pre-Buddhist religion of Tibet. There is a
modern Tibetan religious community which practices Bon (or something they call
Bon). Bjerken does make some interesting points, but he never presents his own
view of Bon, and the article has a somewhat “postmodernist” feel, as if no true
interpretation or perspective was even possible – neither of Bon nor of religion
in general.
Originally, Western scholars had a very negative take on Bon. It was “sorcery”,
“fetishism”, “animism” or indeed “shamanism”, a primitive survival of a
barbaric past. They were probably cannibals, too. Buddhism was seen as a tool
of higher civilization. Explicit parallels were made with how Christianity
replaced paganism. At the same time, Western observers were wary of the Tibetan
form of Buddhism, as well. Both Catholics and Protestant regarded “Lamaism” as
too close to Catholicism. The superficial similarities are indeed striking: monks,
priests with miter-like headgear, complex rituals resembling masses, relics, prominent
lamas acting like “popes”, etc. To Jesuit missionaries, this was “diabolic
mimicry” of Holy Mother Church. To Protestants or scholars influenced by Protestant
models, pure and pristine Buddhism had degenerated into the Tibetan version in
pretty much the same way as early Christianity had been distorted by the
Catholic Church. Often, the most negative or debased practices of “Lamaism” were
explained in terms of “shamanic” Bon influences. Compare how Catholicism is
seen as influenced by paganism.
One intriguing observation is that the negative Western perspectives on
Bon was shared by Hindu and Japanese Buddhist scholars. Bjerken also points out
that Tibetan Buddhist sources dealing with Bon are extremely negative and paint
a dualistic picture of the two religions, one being good, the other being evil.
Thus, the Western scholars weren´t just constructing “Orientalism” (in Edward
Said´s sense), but hybridizing it with native anti-Bon polemics. Of course,
another way of putting it is that they used Buddhist anti-Bon polemics to fuel
their Orientalism, since they often didn´t fancy the Tibetan Buddhists either!
One popular idea in Bon studies has been that the religion evolved in three
different phases. This comes from a polemical Tibetan Buddhist history, but was
taken seriously until recently, amplified by other Tibetan sources. The first
phase is the properly shamanic Bon, often starkly depicted as a dark age. The second
is a syncretistic phase when original Bon is combined with influences from the
foreign lands of Kashmir, Gilgit and Zhang zhung. The third phase is the current
form of Bon, when the religion becomes syncretized with Tibetan Buddhism. Western
observers often regarded *this* as the worst and most sinister form of Bon,
almost as if they believed in diabolic mimicry! Indeed, current Bon-pos do
circumambulate in the “wrong” direction, have their sacred svastikas oriented “backwards”,
and so on. Maybe this does evoke black masses, which are supposedly read backwards,
und so weiter.
The author is critical of the
term “shamanism” as a universal religious category, arguing that there really
is no such thing (this is the standard position in modern scholarship). It´s
interesting to note how the figure of the “shaman” constantly stages a comeback
in Bon studies, sometimes through the backdoor, as it were. To many early scholars,
“shamanism” was a strongly negative term (see above). Mircea Eliade, by contrast,
seem to have regarded shamanic experiences as truly initiatory, perhaps even as
survivals of a primordial monotheism. Tantrism was shamanic, too, so I assume
Eliade was generally positive towards both Tibetan Buddhism and Bon. After this
comes a period in scholarship when Bon monks trained at Western universities
could aid scholars in understanding the canonical Bon scriptures. By this, the
shaman seems to have been finally exorcized.
Except that he wasn´t. The most recent trend (at least in 2004) was apparently
that anthropologists studying Tibetan communities recreated the shaman, as it
were, and even placed him in a dualistic relationship to the lama…but with the
added twist, that the *shaman* was now the good guy. The shaman is the ecstatic-romantic
trickster who stands for chaotic freedom as against the authoritarian order and
high scriptural knowledge of the lama. Hippie era, much? Meanwhile, Bon has
gained Western converts while Neo-Shamanism has become all the rage. Some Tibetan
Bon teachers now call themselves “shamans” and their religion “shamanism” when
speaking to Western (New Age?) audiences! (I don´t know how Bon has been received
in Japan, but I can absolutely see Bon teachers there trying to sell their
religion as a form of Shugendo or what have you.)
Apart from shamanism, Bjerken is also critical of terms such as “syncretism” and the attempts to explain everything in terms of “diffusion”. Thus, he takes scholars to task for suggesting that perhaps Bon was influenced by Shaivism, Manicheanism, Taoism, Nestorianism or what have you. I admit that I didn´t get this part. The existence of cultural diffusion is well established, I mean, Buddhism diffused to Tibet?! He also says that the shamanic traits of Bon can be explained by influence from Tantrism (by diffusion, perhaps), but here, I think Eliade may have been on to something: perhaps Tantrism *is* shamanic at root level, so turning the Bon shaman into an Indian siddha doesn´t really exorcize him.
As already
mentioned, the article says very little about what Bon may actually have been, except
when polemicizing with Eliade. Bjerken points out that the Bon sources don´t
paint the Bon religious specialists as shamans in the “standard” sense. There
are no ecstatic techniques, no decentralized networks, no carnivalesque
tricksters. Rather, the Bon priests serve the centralized Tibetan kingdom,
aiding its imperialist rulers to defeat foreign enemies with the help of magical
rituals. Yes, they wear animal skin and other “shamanistic” paraphernalia, but
this is booty from the defeated barbarians, given them by the kings for
services rendered. This may have nothing to do with actual history, but it certainly
shows that Bon´s self-understanding (at least at one point) wasn´t shamanistic.
With that, I end my reflections on the mysteries of Bon…
PS. I asked Copilot Designer to imagine a Tibetan shaman, and the result can be seen above. I admit that it does seem to be a fantasy character!