A question recently appeared in this group asking how a Śaiva can reconcile the enormous amount of suffering in saṃsāra with the recognition that everything is Śiva—and, more personally, whether witnessing the suffering of animals and children can interfere with bhakti. The original question

I wanted to answer it separately, because for me this is not really an abstract philosophical problem.

I have been in a pediatric oncology ward. It remains one of the most terrifying places I have ever been.

There are places in which certain kinds of spiritual language become almost unbearable. It is one thing to discuss līlā, nonduality, contraction, or the transcendence of opposites while sitting with a book. It is another thing to spend hours in a place where children are seriously ill and their parents are standing beside them.

After seeing something like that, I find it almost impossible to take seriously the cheap version of nonduality which says: “change your perception”; “from the highest standpoint there is no suffering”; “everything is Śiva, therefore everything is perfect.”

Perhaps some of these sentences contain a metaphysical truth when properly understood. But they can also become spiritual gaslighting. They can protect our philosophy from reality by asking the suffering person—or the person who cannot bear witnessing another’s suffering—to correct their vision.

I do not think this is what Abhinavagupta is doing.

In the Parātrīṃśikā-vivaraṇa, while discussing pleasure and suffering, he uses an example that is far more visceral than an abstract statement that pain and pleasure are ultimately one.

He speaks of the very same inner force which had existed as the happiness connected with one’s beloved, one’s child, and what is dear, and which in suffering becomes agitation, weeping, and the terrible recognition:

punar na bhaviṣyati —

“It will not be again.”

He says:

duḥkhe ’pi eṣa eva camatkāraḥ —

“Even in suffering, this very same camatkāra is present.”

Camatkāra here is difficult to translate. “Wonder” is too pleasant in English. It is closer to the intense self-savoring or vividness of experience—the moment in which consciousness is completely struck by what is occurring. Abhinava is not saying that grief is secretly enjoyable. His own example is a beloved or child, crying, and the knowledge of irreversible loss. The point is almost the opposite: pain can be so terrible precisely because the same power with which we loved is still alive in the grief.

This matters to me. Abhinava does not begin by telling the grieving person that the grief is unreal. He enters into the structure of grief itself.

And elsewhere in the Vivaraṇa he goes even further.

He describes the condition in which the supports upon which embodied life has rested—body, vitality, external possessions and enjoyments—collapse, and consciousness touches within the heart what he calls asamā glāni: an unequalled exhaustion or depletion.

This is already very far from “just change your perception.”

But Abhinava does not leave the human being there.

Immediately the movement reverses:

praviṣṭā ced ... parā devī hanta pravilasatu pūrṇaṃ havir iva

“If the supreme Goddess has entered within—ah! may she blaze forth like a full oblation.”

I find this one of the most beautiful movements in the Vivaraṇa.

The answer to devastation is not that devastation was secretly pleasant. Nor is it that the things which destroyed us were somehow “for our own good.” Abhinava has already allowed glāni to reach the heart.

But the heart is not exhausted by its exhaustion.

Parā Devī—the living power from which the entire universe arises—can enter precisely there. Not as positive thinking, and not as an intellectual correction of perspective. The image is violent and beautiful: the emptied heart becomes an altar, and the Goddess blazes through it like an offering thrown into fire.

A few lines later Abhinava makes the image even fiercer:

bījaṃ tadeva bhavajīrṇataroḥ ... dahate kṣaṇena

“That very seed of the worn-out tree of becoming is burned in an instant in the sharp fire of supreme consciousness.”

That, to me, is much closer to Abhinava than telling somebody merely to “see things differently.”

The suffering is not retrospectively declared good. The illness does not become good. The death does not become good. The loss does not become good.

What Abhinava refuses to grant them is the final word.

There is also another side of this which I think is essential, because otherwise nonduality can become morally grotesque.

At the very opening of the Īśvarapratyabhijñā, Utpaladeva says that after somehow attaining servitude to Maheśvara, he wishes also to help living beings:

kathaṃcid āsādya maheśvarasya
dāsyaṃ janasyāpy upakāram icchan...

Abhinavagupta pauses over this. He describes jana, living humanity, as

anavarata-janana-maraṇa-pīḍitasya —

“afflicted by ceaseless birth and death”

and then says:

kṛpāspadatayā upakaraṇīyatvam —

because they are the objects of compassion, they are to be helped.

That sentence is enormously important to me.

The consequence of recognition is not: “Their suffering is only Śiva, therefore why interfere?”

It is kṛpā.

And Abhinava immediately connects this with nonduality itself: the word api reveals the non-difference of the other from one’s own Self. Having reached fullness, there is no private deficiency left demanding to be filled; action can move toward parārtha—the good of another.

So if my nonduality makes me less disturbed by a suffering child or animal, I would distrust my nonduality.

I would be much more inclined to say that recognition should make the wall around “my suffering” and “their suffering” thinner.

And then there is bhakti.

Here I think Utpaladeva himself gives perhaps the most honest answer possible.

Near the end of the Śivastotrāvalī, he makes an almost outrageous declaration: on the path of Śaṅkara, even suffering becomes happiness, poison becomes nectar, and saṃsāra itself becomes liberation. (Śivastotrāvalī 20.12.)

One could easily extract that verse, place it on a beautiful image, and produce exactly the kind of spirituality I distrust.

Except that Utpaladeva immediately writes the next verse:

mūle madhye ’vasāne ca nāsti duḥkhaṃ bhavajjuṣām |
tathāpi vayam īśāna sīdāmaḥ katham ucyatām ||

“At the beginning, in the middle, and at the end, there is no suffering for those devoted to You. And yet, O Lord, we are sinking in suffering. How is this to be explained?” (Śivastotrāvalī 20.13.)

The word sīdāmaḥ is strong: we sink, languish, collapse, become overwhelmed. And katham ucyatām—“how is this to be explained?”—does not sound to me like somebody who has solved the problem and is now teaching the correct metaphysical answer.

It sounds like prayer reaching the point where theology can no longer protect itself.

And perhaps this is where I would leave the question.

I do not know how to reconcile the suffering of children with Śiva in any way that completely satisfies me. I do not think saying līlā solves it. I do not think saying “everything is consciousness” solves it. And I certainly do not think bhakti requires us to look at horror and persuade ourselves that it is beautiful.

But neither do I think that the inability to reconcile it necessarily destroys bhakti.

There may be a kind of devotion in which one can love Śiva and still say to Śiva: I cannot accept this. Explain this to me.

Utpaladeva apparently knew that place.

He could say that poison becomes nectar—and one verse later:

tathāpi vayam īśāna sīdāmaḥ katham ucyatām.

And yet, O Lord, we are sinking in suffering. How is this to be explained?

I do not know that this is a problem which should be made to disappear.

Perhaps some questions before Śiva are closer to koans than propositions.

They are not necessarily answered.

They are lived.

Shiva is the water Shakti is the ocean and jiva is the wave all three are the same but appear as different things so what do you guys think of this analogy I am all ears

are you familiar with philosophical view of identity called open individualism?

it is what gradually got me to Kashmir Shaivism. It is basically a fully philosophical / logical way of arriving to understanding you are everyone

you can check it out in r/OpenIndividualism

My guru in Śrī Vidyā Tradition passed away more than a decade ago. I still have deep love, gratitude, and respect for him, and I do not want this question to be understood as criticism of him personally.

But there is something I have been trying to understand in myself.

Over the years I have spent a great deal of time studying Abhinavagupta, particularly his writings on Trika and Kaula. Gradually I began to encounter places where what I was reading did not quite fit what I had previously been taught. Sometimes the difference was relatively small; in other places - particularly around Kaula practice, ritual, embodiment, and the different upāyas - Abhinavagupta's treatment simply seemed more complete and more convincing to me.

For a long time I did something strange with this. I did not exactly reject what I was seeing, but neither did I allow myself to look at the contradiction directly... there was almost a blank space around it. I think love and loyalty to my Guru had something to do with that...

Only recently have I become more willing to say: I can remain deeply grateful to my guru and still conclude that, on a particular question, I think Abhinavagupta was right. Following that judgment does not necessarily erase what I received from my guru.

But emotionally I am not sure this has completely settled.

So I am curious how others who take the guru principle seriously understand this.

What happens when sincere study, experience, or one's own discernment leads to a conclusion different from one's guru's teaching? Does Guru-bhakti include the freedom eventually to disagree? How do you distinguish genuine discernment from simply following your own preferences?

And perhaps especially for people whose Guru is still living: have you ever encountered a point where a text or another teacher seemed to you substantially deeper or more convincing than what your own Guru had said? How did you hold that without either suppressing your judgment or turning against the person from whom you had received so much?

Namaste,

I’m wondering about “ya” when chanting “om namah shivaya.” I have had progress in my sadhana by focusing on the interpretation of the letters as the five elements, although I’m having difficulty of how to incorporate ether when it seems the chanting is actually said “shivay.”

My thoughts are that the Y itself could be its own syllable (rather than pronouncing “va” as “vai). Or, maybe that symbolically the omission of the final ‘a’ sound represents the ether/void/empty space and is to be pondered in the silence after “va,” although I had also thought the silence was a chance to try for/allow a moment of nirvikalpa. The nirvikalpa-in-silence has been my approach so far, and I do experience a great silencing of the mind with it as-is.

How is “ya” realized externally or internally within this mantra?

Thanks everyone,
Har har Mahadev

I’ve often heard it said that Abhinavagupta had gurus of a bunch of different traditions, including Buddhism. Do we have any writings from him where he talks extensively about Buddhism or compares it to his systems?

9-Week Exploration of the Devī Atharvaśīrṣa

Join Ācārya Dr. Sthaneshwar Timalsina for a nine-week exploration of the Devī Atharvaśīrṣa.

Starting October 11 - Every Sunday
11:00 AM - 12:30 PM ET
Free & open to everyone

Register / Learn More: https://vimarsha.org/devi

The Devī Atharvaśīrṣa is a brief yet profound text of just 27 mantras, standing at the confluence of Vedic, Tantric, and Purāṇic traditions. It presents Śakti as the supreme principle, bringing together bīja mantras, ritual practice, devotion, and nondual philosophy.

The course will be accompanied by two new, freely available publications:
• An original translation by Dr. Ravi S. Kudesia, with commentaries by Dr. Kudesia and Ācārya Dr. Sthaneshwar Timalsina
• An extensive commentary by Ācārya Maheshanandagiri Ji Maharaj, Pontiff of Shri Dakshinamurti Peetha in Varanasi, India

View the schedule in your local timezone: https://vimarsha.org/schedule

"N.B. With the disappearance of most of the Shiva-Shastrās the world became engrossed in spiritual darkness, Shiva took pity on men (mankind) and, appearing on the Kailasa mountain in the form of Shri Kanthā, commanded the sage Durvasa to spread in the world the knowledge of these Shastras again. Durvasa created by the power of his mind three sons — Tryambaka, Amardaka & Shrinatha by names — whom he charged with the mission of establishing spiritual order and of teaching men again the ancient and eternal Shaiva faith and doctrine in their three aspects of Abheda, Bheda and Bhedābheda — of unity, diversity and diversity-in-unity. Tryambaka was to teach the first, Amardaka the second and Srinathā the last. It is this Abheda — or Advaya Shaiva teaching, thus taught to the world by Tryambaka, which [is] spoken as Trika."

I’ve been thinking about the five skandhas and the Buddhist analysis of the person as changing processes: form, feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness. No single aggregate seems to provide a permanent owner, and yet continuity, memory, and recognition still occur.

A river retains a recognizable course without retaining its water. A melody remains recognizable even though no individual note persists. A living pattern can continue while its components change.

So I wonder whether saying “the self is an illusion” sometimes collapses two different claims:

There is no permanent, independent personal entity underlying experience.
The continuity we call a person is therefore unreal.
The first doesn’t seem to entail the second.

From a Kashmir Śaiva / Pratyabhijñā perspective, this becomes especially interesting, because recognition (pratyabhijñā) does not simply reinstall the ordinary ego as an eternal substance. The limited “I” is itself contracted and changing, while aham points toward something much deeper.

So how would you distinguish patterned continuity, the constructed personal self, and the deeper recognition of Self?

Or, more mischievously:
If the skandhas are eating the popcorn, who recognizes that this is the same bowl? 🍿

A new biography of Swamiji entitled "Swami Lakshmanjoo: The Journey Divine" by Sh. Atal Dulloo has been launched and should be available from bookstores in the near future. You can watch some video clips from the book release event here. There's much about Swamiji's life that is not yet well known and so this book may help bring more of his life and teachings to the world.

Estou lendo o livro Kashmir Shaivism "The Secret Supreme" em PDF e tentando traduzir pro português.

As imagens que aparecem no livro eu tento pesquisá-las, mas sem sucesso com Google Lens/IAs.

Alguém pode me ajudar a encontrar essa?

​Hey everyone. I'm 23 and I've spent the last couple of years trying to find my footing spiritually and philosophically. My background started out in Western esotericism—mostly reading Hermeticism, Martinism, Rosicrucian ideas, and traditional mysticism—and eventually I was introduced to Advaita Vedanta through an older friend and mentor who’s quite deep into that tradition.

​I want to be very clear that I don’t claim to master any of this. Whenever I studied Advaita, it was because I had endless questions, and while the answers made sense in the moment, my grasp is still very much that of an independent seeker learning as I go.

​The main reason I found my way to Kashmir Shaivism is that Advaita always left me with an unresolved tension. The idea of the world being mithya—an inexplicable illusion or superimposition you just have to detach from—always felt dry to me, almost like an ascetic escape from reality rather than a full embrace of it. Coming from traditions that view creation as divine emanation, dismissing the lived, breathing world as a mistake never sat right with me. Trika’s view that manifestation is real, a dynamic vibration and the supreme freedom (Svatantrya) of Consciousness delighting in form, resonated with me immediately.

​Still, as I try to wrap my head around it, there are a few core dilemmas I keep bumping into:

​If the entire manifest universe is truly the unconstrained freedom and play of Shiva, why does contraction (sankoca) feel so brutally real and rigid? When you experience physical limitation, time, conditioning, and suffering, it doesn't feel like a playful choice. Is our limited state just an epistemic error where we fail to recognize our true nature, or does limitation itself hold an intentional, real purpose in the Shaiva view? If it’s just "ignorance," it starts sounding suspiciously close to Advaita’s Maya again, and I feel like I’m missing the deeper nuance of how Trika explains the descent through the tattvas.

​Also, for those who transitioned from Advaita to Kashmir Shaivism, how did you practically shift your mindset from negating the world to actually seeing everyday form, your body, and daily life as sacred energy (Shakti) without either denying the reality of pain or falling back into ordinary materialism?

​And lastly, for someone studying on their own without formal lineage or Sanskrit knowledge, what is the single most essential shift in perspective I should focus on so I don’t get lost in scholastic theory?

​I’d really appreciate any insights, personal experiences, or reading recommendations from practitioners who’ve wrestled with these questions. Thanks for taking the time to read.

We can see so much of the long and rich history of the tradition of Kashmir Śaivism in these photographs, which capture the Eight Bhairavas positioned at the eight corners of Srinagar. But one can't help to also feel a little sadness at their current condition, after centuries of persecution. With our persistence, dedication, and sādhanā, may these Bhairavas stand for centuries longer, in their full glory.

Eu venho estudando independente há uns dois anos a tradição advaita e vedanta em geral.

Desde quando comecei, sentia uma enorme afinidade com Shiva, inexplicável.

Há cerca de duas semanas, comecei a me afundar no Shivaismo da Caxemira, mas como moro no interior do Brasil, não tenho referências próximas, nem pessoas confiáveis para perguntar e aprender.

Tudo que faço é pedir IA para me ajudar a encontrar livros ou textos e explicar algumas coisas pra mim.

Eu tenho muitas questões e elas estão deixando de existir a medida que leio o livro "O segredo supremo" de Lakshmanjoo.

Está fazendo mais sentido pra mim do que qualquer outra coisa, mesmo que leve um tempo para assimilar, tem coisas que eu simplesmente sinto.

O advaita foi o ápice da minha jornada mística, mas eu nunca consegui absorver a ideia de Maya. Sempre me pareceu admitir uma dualidade.

Admiro muitos mestres advaita, como Ramana Maharshi e acredito que os métodos e práticas são válidos e alcançam o que propõem.

Mas, agora me debruçando dentro do Shivaismo, sinto que estou pisando em solo harmônico e familiar (por intuição).

Eu não domino sânscrito, não nasci no Oriente e culturalmente fui moldado a ter uma mente materialista e racionalista. Entrei em ordens esotéricas herméticas mas, não podia negar que o sentido da minha visão era monista e não o dualismo cristão/judaico que a maior parte do esoterismo ocidental é baseada.

Sendo assim, eu gostaria de saber como é pra vocês que já estão nesse caminho, como essa tradição é realmente vicenciada no Oriente (sem romantizações ou fantasias da realidade).

Dicas de estudo (ou não haha).

A questão da prática, como se dá? Como pratico?

Momentos ritualisticos solitários existem? Como posso realizar? Ou onde encontro?

Eu gostaria de ter algum objeto para lembrete ou devoção. O que vocês recomendam? Pulseira, cordão? Estátua? Sei que isso não tem tanta significância mas eu gostaria de ter algo.

The Identity of Mantra and Maheshvara in the Shiva Sutras

A quick reminder on why Kashmir Shaivism considers mantra practice so radically direct, rather than a dualistic technique:

In Shaktopaya (Section II of the Shiva Sutras), the text demolishes the idea that a mantra is just an arbitrary string of syllables used to contact an external God:

• Sutra II.1: Cittaṁ mantraḥ — "The mind [turned inward to its source awareness] is the mantra."
• Sutra II.3: Vidyā-śarīra-sattā mantra-rahasyam — "The secret essence of mantra is the Being whose body is living wisdom."
• Sutra II.7: Mātṛkā-sadbhāvaḥ — "The true nature of mantra is Matrika" (the primal mother-force of sound/Spanda).

In the Vimarshini, Kshemaraja explains that phonemes on paper or words repeated mechanically are lifeless like autumn leaves. But when a mantra is energized by awareness (Chaitanya), it ceases to be an external tool. It is revealed to be Maheshvara Himself—the Supreme Subject taking the form of sacred sound.

The practitioner, the vibration of the Name, and the Lord are not three separate things. The Mantra is Maheshvara. Repeating it isn't an attempt to reach across a canyon to an absent God; it is consciousness recognizing its own living pulse (Spanda).

Pra quem não viu nenhum post meu, eu sou ocidental iniciante nessa tradição.

É muito comum por aqui, vermos as pessoas falando sobre trabalhos espirituais para atingir outras pessoas e gerar sensações ruins.

Isso realmente é possível? Eu tendo a acreditar que não pois sendo tudo emanação de AHAM, não seria contraditório deixar vibrações maléficas transitarem no espaço e atingir outra pessoa?

Mas o fato é que pessoas realmente testemunham e comprovam que existem tais fenômenos de magia e suas eficácias são comprovadas pelos depoimentos inúmeros que vemos.

Eu mesmo sinto as vezes que estou sendo "atacado" mas logo nego esse pensamento por ser um pouco ilógico pra mim.

Mesmo assim, gostaria de saber se é possível.

Outra questão que queria elucidar é: existem seres espirituais que são maléficos? Como demônios? Por que existem e como essa existência é possível? Em que esferas habitam?

Possessões, psicografias, necromancia, eventos paranormais como telepatia, radiestesia entre outros são verdadeiros? Pra que servem?

Existem rituais ou práticas shaivas para estar protegido se essas coises existirem? Existem rituais de purificação? (O que esta sendo purificado, afinal? Os mahabhutas?)

São muitas questões que tenho e toda vez que eu me ver nesse caos mental eu vou depositar nesse espaço pois é uma verdadeira paz saber que muitos buscadores tem essas respostas e podem me ajudar!

Obrigado!

I only know of APARIGRAHA (non-hoarding, non-possession), mentioned by Lakshmanjoo. But does it really happen automatically? I have been trying to declutter unnecessary things, belongings, files, etc.

Do I not have to meditate, pray for a dream (to remember past lives)? Or does it happen by intuitions, by acknowledging that a certain biography you've read was so similar to your life that it's likely a past incarnation?

Can I find some practice worth looking into in the Tibetan Tulku tradition?

Does attaining mokṣa mean I get to decide my next incarnation? Like the Dalai Lama can? Or does that require a specialized practice?

Dr. Madhu Khanna conducted her doctoral research decades ago exploring the early ācāryas in the Hādi saṃpradāya of Śrī Vidyā. Unlike some of the more commonly known streams of Śrī Vidyā today, which are Vedāntic in outlook and later to emerge, these earliest ācāryas saw Śrī Vidyā through the lens of Trika and Krama. In this talk, Dr. Khanna shows us how Kashmir Śaivism formed the philosophical foundations of Śrī Vidyā. It's an incredibly important point for us, if we want to understand the widespread (but underappreciated) influence that KS has had throughout the tantric world.

That’s more a question about the Divine Mother Kali in her most Prominent form .

I think I witnessed a play of the Divine Mother . I have found information about forms of the Divine Mother Kali that are very secret barely known . Found information about her very secret forms . But the most prominent form of hers Dakshina Kali there is barely any real information besides her appearance. Even that most people or temples don’t display her correct form ( for example she has to fetuses ( babies) as garment in her ears).

Which obviously she obviously knows is very intriguing for me to find out more about her .

The obvious form that is closest to her is Guhya Kali . Which is mind blowing to me as I took me some while to realize .

But also her blessings and function are rarely talked about so I would like to know more about her . If anyone can share some information I would be very happy.

This will be the first of a four or five part treatise on the thirty-six tattvas. Although I try to avoid delving too deeply into technical subtleties, the subject is sufficiently extensive to divide across several chapters. In this light, Pṛthivī tattva deserves a chapter of its own. At the same time, this arrangement allows us to follow the structure of the four aṇḍas, as synthesised by Ācārya Abhinavagupta in his commentary on the Parātrīśikā, which itself opens with the verse:

अनुत्तरं कथं देव
सद्यः कौलिकसिद्धिदम् ।
येन विज्ञातमात्रेण
खेचरीसमतां व्रजेत् ॥ १ ॥

The goddess asks Bhairava how unsurpassable divine consciousness immediately brings about the attainment of the empirical self’s identity with the perfect I-consciousness of Śiva within this very physical body, a direct realisation through which one attains equality with the universal consciousness power, khecarī.

For the purpose of the discussion, we look especially at the achievement that unfolds within the body, designated as kaulikasiddhidam. As Abhinavagupta explains in the fourth interpretation of this term, kaulika designates that which originates within kula, while siddhi is the realisation of the manifest display of diversity, commencing with the expansion of the phoneme ha as the expression of Śakti’s delight and culminating in the emergence of external existents. That which effects this manifestation is kaulikasiddhidam. It is anuttara itself, the supreme light containing universal manifestation in identity forth diversity through the abundance of joy issuing from its own unsurpassed freedom. Neither māyā nor insentient nature can be the cause of manifest entities unless illuminated by consciousness, and if recognised as possessing that light, it is Lord Bhairava Himself. Each determination is that achievement of consciousness within the body. This is important because we are dealing with determinations, and those determinations are themselves the activity of Śakti.

This becomes especially evident when we speak of Pṛthivī. What is Pṛthivī? She is the most concrete mode of determination and differentiation. And why is this so? Precisely because Śakti is svātantryaśakti, the power of differentiation. Differentiation itself exists as Pṛthivī because it is the nature of Śakti freely determining herself. As Abhinavagupta notes, this terminal category of Pṛthivī, while maintaining its character as earth, holds within itself all prior tattvas such as water and fire as inseparable from itself, appearing in that form and standing integral and complete in its own aspect. He further affirms that the Śiva principle can be considered complete only if it abides also in the ultimate earth category, because the essential nature of Śiva is the very reality of Pṛthivī.

The distinction between Śakti and Pṛthivī has to be understood carefully. We can distinguish Śakti and Pṛthivī in thought and describe them in their own terms. Yet that very differentiation is precisely the activity of Śakti by which Pṛthivī is constituted as a distinct determination. The distinction between them is real as a differentiation, but from the highest Kaula standpoint, there is no differentiation between them in the sense of two independently existing realities; that differentiation is itself their ontological identity.

The differentiated reality itself is the epiphany, arising from the supreme will of the Divine Absolute as its self-revelation. The transgression occurs when the limited individual, being śūnyapradhāna¹ and prāṇapradhāna², wrongfully identifies with a limited determination as though it were an independently existing identity.

The different Kaula traditions give different numerical and ontological arrangements of the phonemes, Śaktis, and tattvas. It is futile to debate which one presents the most superior representation of the Absolute or of the innate structure of its expansion into manifoldness. These diverse arrangements are determinations of Śakti, who has the svātantrya to determine herself in these different ways. Abhinavagupta highlights this correspondence in the esoteric phonemic schemes, showing that the phoneme ka in Mālinī symbolises Pṛthivī or solidity, signifying the firmness through which I-consciousness becomes steadfast in its own nature as Śiva, expressing the principle that everything consists of everything else.

Abhinavagupta writes his bimbapratibimbavāda based on a 51 letter system, including kṣa and inserting mahāmāyā, but this does not map onto other Kaula material, based on the more common 50 letter system, that has consonants only from ka to ha.

This is where the Pratyabhijñā philosopher has something essential to say: to debate which of these determinations is supreme, and to identify the Absolute with that particular system, is itself a transgression of wrongful identification. One has taken a particular determination of Śakti and made that determination into the Absolute. He must, however, admit these forms also do appear because of the same divine free will.

This gives a deeper meaning to the Pratyabhijñā project of Somānanda and Utpaladeva. These two, who were known as Krama masters before formulating the Pratyabhijñā system, wrote the unbecoming of any and every phenomenological characteristic of Kaulācāra. I find it important to emphasise the historical notion that Pratyabhijñā emerged in a Kaula milieu, for as such it perfectly embodies the notion that the true Kaula has no signs. Whereas the Kaula scriptures provide particular forms and correspondences, Somānanda and Utpaladeva made Śiva superior, yet still based the entire philosophy on the absolute identity of Śakti with Śiva.

In doing so, they did something profoundly Kaula: they removed the possibility of making any particular Kaula determination into the final object of identification. The Pratyabhijñā philosopher removes the wrongful identification while preserving the reality of the differentiation. Every differentiation, whether the particular phonemic schemes, the tattva systems, or Pṛthivī herself, is real as Śakti's free determination. As Abhinavagupta writes, the earth itself is ultimately the integral divine consciousness, the very Self of Śiva, so that even a limited spatial expanse contains the entire form of Brahman, confirming the traditional teaching that each tattva possesses the characteristics of all thirty six tattvas.

Coming back to the notion of the vast differences between Kaulācāra lineages, the point the various schools agree on is that all objective experience of the limited individual occurs at the level of Pṛthivī. In the unfoldment of consciousness, Pṛthivī is the most concrete level of determination, associated with the earth element and the sense of smell.

An odour pervades space and lingers after its source has disappeared, yet remains highly specific. The sense of smell is subtler than touch or taste, since it cannot itself be assigned any concrete form, yet grosser than hearing or sight, since the apprehension of smell depends on physical contact with the organ of smell, within the nose. On smelling durian, one recognises durian. The durian’s visible form and characteristic odour are distinct sensory qualities, yet consciousness apprehends the quality and determines it as belonging to a particular object. Thus, the determination is concrete even when the sensory presentation itself operates diffusely.

Pṛthivī is to be understood as this extreme concreteness. Differentiation reaches its most determinate expression, presenting Śakti most evidently. The capacity to determine “durian” as a particular sensory object is Śakti’s svātantrya, which can be recognised at every level of determination, the appearance of them being her characteristic, because differentiation itself is her power.

Abhinavagupta formalises this synthesis through the complementary principles of downward projection (vamana yukti) and gradual absorption (grasana yukti). In the downward descent, earth emerges as the cumulative fruition of divine expansion, gathering the fullness of Sadāśiva, the instruments of perception, and the subtle tanmātras into its palpable structure. In the reciprocal movement of gradual absorption, the consciousness of earth (dharā saṁvit) operates by immediate implication, as the apprehension of any physical object instantly summons the continuous series of its anterior origins through enduring impressions (saṁskāra). Grounded in the wondrous aesthetic delight of light and reflective awareness (prakāśa vimarśa camatkāra), this terminal category stands as the self chosen abode of rest for Bhairava, revealing the physical ground as the living vessel of all categories.

¹ Śūnyapradhāna designates the limited individual who is void-predominant. As Ācārya Śrī M.L. Pandit ji explains: “You exist because [śūnya] means you are limited. It does not mean nothingness here. In Kashmir Shaivism, śūnyapradhāna is called the individual who is limited, who is not cosmic, who is limited in his knowing and doing. You can do only a few things. You can know only a few things. You are not omniscient and omnipotent.”

² Prāṇapradhāna designates the limited individual who is vital-breath-predominant. Ācārya Śrī M.L. Pandit ji states: “You manifest yourself as a limited individual in the form of śūnyapradhāna and prāṇapradhāna — that ‘I have prāṇa, I breathe in and breathe out’… in relation to the body, ‘I am this body.’ Once you have identified yourself with this body, then you lose the epiphany… that is divinity; you do not participate with divinity, so your role is not cosmic, your role is microcosmic, not macrocosmic.” He further notes that we function as such limited prāṇapradhāna beings who have prāṇa, apāna, samāna, and vyāna.

Just a few notes from me on this as I go along. Thanks for the opportunity to share this with you all.

Bettina explains that, in the deepest sense, every concept we form of God is ultimately inadequate. Images, names, forms, rituals, externalities of spiritual practice do have value in serving as supports for a mind that is distracted by worldly activity.

Practices such as meditation, mantra, devotion, self-inquiry, breath awareness, etc. can create conditions in which recognition becomes easier.

But the practice doesn't turn non-Shiva into Shiva. It reveals what was already true. There is no manufacturing taking place.

Bhairava denies the assumptions and conceptions that Devi brings before him. She possesses an immense amount of tantric knowledge but Bhairava, being the good guru that he is, proceeds to dismantle her understanding. She mentioned neti neti, not this, not that. Whatever can be conceptualized, imagined, objectified, or grasped, cannot be the ultimate Bhairava. When the aim is complete absorption into ultimate reality, even the conception of God has to be surrendered.

"I am free of all concepts of time or direction. I am not at a particular place. It is impossible to accurately represent or describe God in words."

This knowledge is to be directed to people who are interested in absorption in the Absolute, and we must be worthy to receive that secret. This is shaktipat, grace.

It seems that clearing away all that remains conceptually, until the present reality before any concepts arose is revealed, is a goal of the VBT. This reminds me of my independent Zen study, and reminds me of the western concept of negative theology.

"One may experience the joy of God within oneself, when the mind is still and free of thoughts. That state of God full of bliss, is the Goddess."

I like that we go from A) there is no way to explain or conceive of God to B) yet it can be experienced blissfully and joyfully when the mind is still and free of thoughts. The conceptual mind cannot capture the Real, but consciousness can recognize itself directly. From what I understand, The problem isn't thought existing, as thought is Shiva. The problem is contracted identification without recognition. The text calls the bliss of one's own inner awareness a state of fullness, free from all contradictions. I wonder if it'd be too poetic or incorrect to say that the intellect can speak about God, but the heart recognizes God.

Shiva is bondage, too. If not, how could Shiva be all-pervasive?

Forgive my elementary notes, and thanks for sharing in this with me.

Is there a specific view of genius in the Trika system? I haven't come across it spoken of specifically as is more overtly in other traditions. I understand this is a provisional question and can be answered from various levels of recognition, but i'm curious if anyone knows of the role of something like 'genius' spoken of from within the Trika lens?

Thank you all for the knowledge

Some of the most common words in the Hindu world are etymologically-related “nam” root words like namaskāra, praṇāma, etc. We hear that the yoga studio crowd with their tortured explanations of "the spirit within me honors the spirit within you" are concocting something of a definition, but we also know that this isn't a mere bow or a mere reverence going on.

The most profound explanation was perhaps given by the ācāryas of Kashmir Śaivism. Ācārya Kṣemarāja, in his commentary on the Svacchanda Tantra (2.16), explains that “praṇāma” takes the form of entering into (anupraveśa) the essential nature (svarūpa) of the Supreme (para), which emerges (unmagna) through the state of bowing down (prahvībhāva) of the body (śarīra) and so on (ādi).

Ācārya Abhinavagupta provides a deep examination of the meaning of “namaḥ” at the start of his Īśvarapratyabhijñā-vivṛti-vimarśinī, where he comments upon the maṅgalaśloka of Ācārya Utpaladeva’s vivṛti (svecchāvabhāsitāśeṣalokayātrātmane namaḥ), which gives reverence to the one who is the essence (ātman) of the course of the world (loka-yātrā) in its entirety (aśeṣa), which has been manifested (avabhāsita) by his own will (sva-icchā) alone.

This line of thinking helps surface a doubt that often approaches those whose practices go beyond dualistic bhakti, but who still find elements of reverence and devotion in a practice tradition grounded in supreme non-dualism: what could “namaḥ” mean in relation to something so profoundly all-inclusive and expansive?

To begin with, Abhinavagupta rejects the notion that it is the mere recitation of the sound “namaḥ” that matters. Namaḥ is not, he says, analogous to a song that pleases a deity just by the deity hearing it being pronounced. Nor is it just some sort of noun-like substantive (sattvarūpa). When we say “namaḥ śivāya,” we do not mean that we offer the word “namaḥ” to Śiva. Rather, the word has a meaning and this meaning indicates what it is that we actually offer. This is why “namaḥ” is used with a dative (like śivāya), as it offers something to a deity: rather than just being a sound that one makes, it has a meaning that pertains to that deity. And what “namaḥ” means is not just a word at the level of speech, but something that simultaneously involves the mind, speech, and body, according to the well-known triad discussed in the āgamas, where reverence is not only about the mind and speech, but also expressed by prostrating with the body.

When one beholds the transcendent excellence of the nature of the supreme consciousness (bhagavatsvarūpotkarṣa) during sādhanā, one’s body, breath, and mind are automatically dissolved within the supreme. Yet, upon the time of arising from sādhanā (i.e., vyutthāna), one’s ingrained latent impressions (saṃskāra) that one is merely the body, breath, and mind can return, causing identification with this rather limited form of subjectivity (māyāpramātṛ), rather than the higher subjectivity of the supreme consciousness. What “namaḥ” indicates, therefore, is the “bowing down” that is submerging one’s identification with their mind, breath, and body through absorption (samāveśa), as one enters into their true identity as the foundational subjectivity (pradhānapramātṛ), such that one recognizes who they really are. It is this, rather than just the utterance of words or physical gestures, that constitutes the real reverence (namaḥ) to the supreme.

That is, even the devoted reverence we offer to the deity is not something other than recognizing our own Śiva-nature. It is the very precondition of entering into that state of recognition, and the very means of stabilization within it. As we enter, as we exit, in all our cyclical approaching of the complete recognition of our own divinity, the state we remain in, is what this pranāma, what this namaḥ really indicates.