by Paul Greer
This is an understanding of the Buddha’s story which is implied in a well-known Mahayana version of his life called the Lalitavistara Sutra – a title which literally means The Play in Full. If we reflect on this title, we realize that the Buddha’s “manifest form” is not even a “person” within the story called “Gotama,” but is in fact, the narrative itself. The story of a young prince, his discovery of suffering, his renunciation, and his journey to enlightenment, is in itself the manifest form of the eternal Buddha nature, “teaching the Dharma” in such a way that the unenlightened may comprehend and respond to its transformative message.
The Fool and the other twenty-one cards of the Major Arcana represent two different perspectives on enlightenment. As Stephen Batchelor says, enlightenment is both an “ever present possibility” and “a linear process … over time.”6 Another way of putting this is in Lama Yeshe’s differentiation between the “resultant” and “causal” approaches to enlightenment. The “resultant” or Tantric approach is based on the view that we already possess that which we seek, and therefore we should learn to “think, speak and act” as if we were already awakened. By contrast, the “causal” approach is a gradual one which entails following prescriptive guidelines – ethical, meditative, and wisdom-related – for the realization of enlightenment at some future time.7 This causal vehicle reflects in many ways the path to awakening found in the other twenty-one Trump cards.
The fundamental message of the Buddha’s “manifest body” is that the way to enlightenment can be apprehended in the “stuff” of the world – which may be a person, or more simply, a story. As Reeves says, the Buddha can be found in “anybody and anything at all”8 - perhaps even in a Tarot deck. In our next card, The Magician, we begin our “causal” journey to enlightenment though the Nirmanakaya of the Tarot; the Play in Full.
A Buddhist Reflection: The “Fool” as an Issue of Perspective
The Fool is perhaps the most enigmatic and ambivalent symbol of the Tarot deck. On the one hand, we all seem to share a similar view about what a “foolish” individual is – one lost in naivety, immaturity, recklessness, and daydreams. On the other hand, we are simultaneously aware that “foolishness” is often a matter of personal perspective and opinion. The card as Pollack recognizes is essentially “faceless” and perhaps even “distorted” – especially when its status as “fool” is conferred upon it by others.9
It is clear that those trapped in Samsara – “uninstructed worldlings” (puthujjana) to use the Buddha’s terminology – will have a particular angle on what constitutes “foolishness.” It will be the person who turns his or her back on all that this world has to offer in terms of wealth (artha), pleasure (kama) and social order (dharma), for navel-gazing and other pointless “spiritual” pursuits. This “worldling” perspective is highlighted by Deepak Chopra in his novelization of the Buddha’s life. When the Buddha’s father King Suddhodana discovers from Asita the Seer that his son may become a great spiritual teacher rather than a mighty ruler, he clutches himself with horror, and declares that only “a fool” would exchange kingship over the world for such a pointless vocation.10
Yet, we must not forget that the Buddha himself had his own perspective on “foolishness.” A foolish worldling is one who tries to find lasting happiness by clinging to things that perish. One who is driven by greed, hatred and delusion. One who is unaware that his or her actions have consequences. As these verses from the Dhammapada reveal:
“These sons belong to me, and this wealth belongs to me” – with such thoughts a fool is tormented. He himself does not belong to himself; how much less his sons and wealth? … Fools of poor understanding have themselves for their greatest enemies, for they do evil deeds which must bear bitter fruits.11
The perspective-derived ambiguity of The Fool is captured brilliantly by Pamela Colman Smith in her rendition of the image. The Fool’s eyes are not focused on the movement of his body – is he lost in ignorance and delusion; or is this an enlightened outsider who has given up self-cherishing? Are his overstated boots simply part of his garish costume, or do they represent freedom, given, as Cirlot points out, that in ancient times only slaves walked barefoot?12 Or what about the feather in his cap – is this some Yankee Doodle tomfoolery, or indeed Maat’s feather, conveying wisdom and truth? He walks towards the cliff edge – are these the steps of a deluded worldling, or the fearless and compassionate strides of a bodhisattva – an enlightenment being who chooses to immerse him or herself once more in Samsara?
The inherent ambiguity of foolishness is exploited to great effect in the stories of the Zen Buddhist tradition, where the apparently “foolish” and irreverent behaviour of the wise is set against the deluded mindscapes and expectations of the truly foolish. A well-known Zen story which illustrates this is that of the two monks and the woman at a river. In the story, two monks, one senior and one junior, are travelling together when they come across a young beautiful woman, attempting to cross a river with a strong current. The woman asks for assistance, but the junior monk is reluctant, given his monastic vow never to touch a woman. Without any thought, the senior monk lifts her up, carries her across, and places her gently on the other side. The two monks continue in silence for many hours. Finally the junior monk cannot control himself any longer, and demands of his companion why he acted in the way he did. The older monk looks at him and replies: “I placed her down by the riverbank - why do you still carry her?”
This little story provides some useful insights into the nature of both the enlightened and the “foolish” mind. The foolish mind equates righteous action, perhaps even “enlightened” action, with perfect adherence to proscribed rules, whether social standards or, in this case, obedience to the monastic code of conduct. This sets limits on the nature and level of compassionate action that can be provided; action always takes place within the context of self-monitoring and self-protection related to a field of expectations. By contrast, the enlightened mind is not bound by such a self-imposed prison. This does not mean that actions here are immoral – it means they are spontaneous, natural, fearless, devoid of self-observation, “skillful.” Second, the foolish mind does not operate in the present; it ruminates over the past or the future; or more accurately, clings to them. The foolish monk was still clinging to the woman; still clinging to the past. By contrast, the so-called “Fool” as Greer observes experiences all that life may bring in the present, “without opinions.”13
Buddhists use a special term for the awareness of the present moment – “suchness” (tathata). An interesting exploration of this takes place in the so-called Flower Sermon, where, as in Smith’s rendition of The Fool, the Buddha reveals all through the simple twist of a flower held lightly in his hand. In the Flower Sermon the Buddha is depicted as being near the end of his life, and has gathered his disciples to listen to what perhaps might be one of his final teachings. The disciples sit, waiting patiently for the Buddha’s words of wisdom. Instead he simply sits, twirling a flower in his hand. Most of the monks grow impatient, but the Buddha simply sits as before. Within the assembly, the monk Kasyapa smiles.
Kasyapa’s smile is regarded as the starting point of Zen Buddhism. It is the first transmission of awakened consciousness, outside scripture, outside tradition. By means of the flower, the Buddha conveys to Kasyapa the “suchness” of reality. Enlightenment, in other words, cannot be “attained” or “learned,” whether through books or tradition. “Suchness” can only be experienced directly and intuitively. We may catch a glimpse of it during any mundane experience; such as in the smile of a child, the rustle of the wind in the trees, or, in this case, in the simple twist of a flower. Within that moment, we see a thing naked, as it truly exists; recognising both its beauty and impermanence without it being overlaid with our usual projections and preconceptions.
Within the Mahayana tradition, to be aware of the suchness of the present moment is at the same time to be aware of the fullness and emptiness of all things. A
t the relative level of truth, Buddhism recognizes that separate phenomena exist – me, you, tree, flower, the world. Yet, at the absolute level of reality, all such objects are “empty” (sunyata) of “separate existence” (svabhava). This does not mean that they do not exist. It means that they are full of everything else.
Thick Nhat Hahn explores the relationship between “fullness” and “emptiness” through the example of a simple flower, recalling once more our Fool, walking with the flower held lightly in his left hand. Hahn notes that if we look deeply enough into a flower, we can see that it is full of many other things – the wind, the soil, the rain, the clouds, and the sunshine. The “flower” simply cannot “be” without them. We could pursue this much further – the flower contains the hill on which it grew, the life-history of the person who picked it, the birth of the sun, and so on. In fact, looking deeply enough, we can see that it contains the entire cosmos. At the same time, if we remove these “non-flower” elements, the flower magically disappears. The “flower” in truth reveals itself to be a particular nexus of all other things, lacking only one thing – own existence. This, concludes Hahn, is “the meaning of emptiness.”14 The interdependence of all phenomena is again expressed in the well-known Indra’s Net analogy of the Flower Garland Sutra. Here we are asked to image an infinite net with a polished jewel at the center of each node. When we look into each jewel, we see nothing but the reflections of all the other gems in the net. In the same way, the self is empty of own existence, but reflective of everything else. As a matter of interest, within Zen, the recognition of the “empty but full” nature of all things is sometimes conveyed with the painted symbol of an empty circle – the Enso –reminding us of the Fool’s zero. The center is empty, and yet, at the same time is contained within the fullness of the circumference.
The importance of this insight into emptiness is that it forms the basis for genuine compassion within Buddhism. Compassion here is not simply based on feelings of pity for others, or merely on a lack of attachment to self. It is grounded in the recognition that the self is contained in the other, and the other in the self. This puts an added perspective on the actions of the compassionate monk at the river. In carrying the distressed woman he is in fact carrying himself. Interestingly, a link between The Fool and interdependence/compassion was recognized by Richard Gardner in 1971, in one of the first examples of Tarot channeling. According to Gardener’s channeled Fool, his “true face” will never be revealed until we recognize that our own welfare is “the welfare of all.”15
According to some forms of Zen, awakening to the suchness and emptiness of reality is not something that requires years of practice, nor only achievable by a few. All creatures contain the Buddha Nature, and this can be realized suddenly. Buddha Nature is a central concept within both Mahayana and Vajrayana Buddhism. It indicates the eternally-awakened nature of mind which lies within each one of us. It simply has to be uncovered rather than developed through any rigorous “path” that we may wish to pursue. In his Sermon on Sudden Awakening, the 8th-Century Chinese monk Shen Hui argues that followers of the Dharma should reject as ineffectual all they have learned before, even those who have spent decades in meditation. In its natural state, he says, everyone’s mind is serene and unpolluted, and conforms to the nature of a Buddha. Thus, our efforts should not focus on the gradual accumulation of wisdom through some arduous training regime, but on “salvation by Sudden Awakening.”16 Similarly, according to the 9th-Century Zen master Huang-Po, those who strive solemnly to attain enlightenment are unaware that “Mind is no other than Buddha”; instead, they wrongly imagine “a mind beside Mind itself and seek Buddha outwardly after a form.” The rigorous and misplaced discipline that such an endeavor involves “is not the way of enlightenment.”17
The ignorance of The Fool – whether he or she is an “uninstructed worldling” or someone pursuing the eightfold path to “attain” or “grasp” Nirvana – lies in the fact that we already possess that which we seek. The “secret significance” of The Fool card, as Katz and Goodwin suggest, is that we are, and always have been, free.18 We wander like fools - as the Lotus Sutra implies in the parable of The Concealed Gem - destitute and forlorn, unaware that a priceless jewel is sewn into the seams of our clothing.19
The Fool, it seems, remains as enigmatic as before. From one perspective he or she is the enlightened individual as perceived by those living in delusion – an outsider, a dreamer, a veritable “Fool on the Hill”; a “Zero.” From another, he or she is the Samsaric worldling, ignorant of their true nature and potential, unaware of their predicament. Yet, The Fool also indicates the pure, natural, and spontaneous nature of the awakened mind; a mind which sees in the twist of a simple flower both the suchness and emptiness of all things.
The Way of the World:
From The Magician to The Chariot
Introduction
As stated in the General Introduction, the following sections are built around three sequences, wherein we will investigate each of the Trump cards in some detail. The first sequence – The Way of the World – concerns those factors and forces which allow for life to be lived in society – parental influence, education, relationships, and growing independence. These concerns are especially evident in cards 3-7 - The Empress, The Emperor, The Hierophant, The Lovers and The Chariot. However, as Pollack has argued, cards 1 and 2 – The Magician and the High Priestess – correlate to much more fundamental qualities and forces that influence our lives – the “masculine” forces of will, action and creation; and the “feminine” forces of receptivity, intuition, mystery, and wisdom. For Pollack, these fundamental but oppositional energies intermingle together in our lives to create our personal perceptions of the world and influence our interactions with it. At a more general level they also serve as foundations for the creation and continuance of society as a whole.1
Tarot’s distillation to the forces of nature and psyche to a gender-related dyad has received some criticism, from feminists in particular. The “feminine” within Tarot is often associated with a cluster of related qualities – passivity, intuition, nurture, fertility, and so on; while the “masculine” is linked with oppositional qualities such as control, independence, organization and movement. For Tarotists, as within the New Age in general, the “feminine” connotes a set of repressed values which must be reclaimed in the causes of psychological, environmental and social healing. For feminists by contrast, the “feminine” constitutes patriarchy’s “ultimate ideology.”2 To extol the “feminine,” as Rosemary Ruether argues, is to reinforce projections onto women of those universal human capacities and qualities which men simply refuse to acknowledge as their own.3 Given this, there is something to be said for the view amongst some Tarotists that a truly liberating practice is one which consciously walks away from this binary dualism.4 My own opinion on the issue is that the concepts of “masculine” and “feminine” can still be usefully retained within Tarot, at least in a provisional and pragmatic sense. However, it is important that we remember to disengage them from any sense of value or importance relative to each other; also, that they represent a range of universal human qualities that can be actualized by everyone.
The Magician (1)
General Overview
Our journey through The Way of the World begins with the commanding figure of The Magician. The Magician is often considered alongside The High Priestess, together representing the fundamental forces and energies that hold sway over our lives. The RWS image shows a magician standing behind a table at dawn, his upraised right hand holding a wand, while his left is shown pointing downwards to the earth. On the table before him lie a pentacle, wand, cup and sword; representing the four Tarot suits and the four elements. A lemniscate appears in the air above his head.
In traditional Tarot interpretation, The Magician is a symbol of masculine power, determination, intention, and action. He represents our ability to transform ideas into reality through the act of will, shown by his hands
extending simultaneously to both the heavens and the earth. In this respect he is often associated with the well-known Hermetic declaration of will: “As above, so below.” The ideas of creative potential and manifestation are also suggested by the card’s dawn background – this is a new day, a new expression of creative endeavor. The lemniscate above his head may likewise symbolize his participation in the never-ending creative energy and drive of the universe. The objects on his table and in his hand represent the only available materials with which to work his magic – the Four Great Elements of the phenomenal world – earth, air, fire and water. In this card we see a clear progression from the inherent latency of The Fool. His bundle has now been opened and its contents spread on the alchemical table, ready for transmutation. Likewise, his beggar’s stick has now become the masculine symbol of directed will and determination – the wand.
In the Story of the Buddha: The Birth of the Future Buddha
It is customary to think of the Buddha as a distinct individual, and perhaps as someone almost “superhuman.” This is inaccurate on two counts. First, the Buddha was as human as you or I, and like us, had at his disposal no more than this “fathom-long” body comprised of the four great elements of being – solidity, fluidity, heat and motion – the four elements on our Magician’s table. Second, it would be more accurate to describe a “Buddha” as a causal process than a distinct person. In Theravada Buddhism especially, no event – including the appearance of a Buddha – occurs except in relation to previous conditions and causes. This causal process extends through countless lives, but moves in a particular direction – towards the cultivation of the “wholesome” (kusala) and the “beautiful” (sobhana) by means of the application of skillful will (cetana). This is a process mirrored in the symbolism of The Magician. With his right hand pointing to that which has been, the Magician gathers to the present all that has been achieved; and here, with steady eyes on the four elements of being, and under the direction of cetana, he manifests the shape of his future. When directed by less than skillful cetana, this process results in the appearance of all forms of Samsaric life, from godlike beings to hungry ghosts.