Woman and Goddess in Hinduism
Page 13
The difference between the exploratory and the evaluative modes discloses two constitutive parts of feminism: its status as a critical academic perspective and as a sociopolitical movement. The two are interrelated, especially in their common critique of the patriarchal premise that men are central and women are marginal (in both the realms of scholarship and the social world), and through the knowledge that feminist scholarship provides to the sociopolitical movement: “Feminism as a social vision relies upon the results of feminist scholarship in history, sociology, and psychology, as well as religion. The most important conclusion of feminist scholarship is that pat r ia rc hy is t he c u lt u r a l creat ion of a cer t a i n epo ch i n hu m a n h i s tor y, not an inevitable necessity of human beings” (Gross, 1996: 23, 28). The issue is whether or not these two parts are coextensive, and the scholar’s or the scholar-activist’s perspective should be disclosed by responding to the questions presented earlier. Seen from this perspec-t ive, both Wessinger and Puttick are on the more activist side of feminist scholarship, directing their remarks toward a feminist assessment of Siddha Yoga’s practices.
Reframing the inquiry in a more exploratory perspective provides creat ive space for t he work of i ntersubject ive const r uct ion a nd d ia lex is. We can note that although Wessinger’s and Puttick’s perspectives weigh in with distinctive assessments of Gurumayi’s leadership, they both privilege a mode of classification that measures Siddha Yoga in relat ion to Western fem i n ist idea ls; t hei r d ia lex is especia lly emphasizes women’s equality and androgyny, both of which were mainstay principles of second-wave feminism but are contested in third-wave feminisms (earned status—hierarchy—is not necessarily bad; gender can be deconstructed beyond the supposed synthesis of androgyny).8
For example, my is understood by Puttick to be “the illusory state of consciousness that causes suffering—personified as a woman.” More accurately, the relationship between my and women is complexly imagined in Hindu tradition, especially in the synthesis of gender and philosophy in classical Hindu mythological stories (found in the Purnas). The influential Advaita Vedanta image of my as a genderless (though the term itself is feminine in grammar) constituent cosmological component that is both creative and delusive is linked to the feminine gender and especially goddesses in later mythological stories.9 In her contemporary discussion, Spivak (2001: 132) suggests that my is “fiction”: “I propose to translate my as ‘fiction,’ an English word philosophically unconnected with prose . . . my in the limited sense or translation of ‘illusion’ has given trouble to readers and believers through the centuries. my as ‘fiction’ would carry the paradox of the range of power of this antonym to ‘truth.’ “ “Fiction” is “forming,” especially imaginative formations, which underscores its separation, as feminine, from female. In patriarchal tradition, feminine is conceptual; female is conception. The former is more amenable to appropriation, ownership, internalization, assimilation; the body of the latter gets in the way of all of that.10 An association of my with women is possible when women themselves reclaim the concept for the illuminating powers it is said to have. A related example would be scholar Lina Gupta’s (1991) feminist reclamation of the goddess Kl from an encrustation of patriarchal interpretations, in which she views the iconography of the Goddess as an expression of women’s rage against male oppression and confinement of women.11
Gupta’s approach resonates with Western streams of feminist spirituality, which Cynthia Eller (1993: 6, 236, n. 5) defines with reference to five characteristics: “valuing women’s empowerment, practicing ritual and/or magic, revering nature, using the feminine or gender as a primary mode of religious analysis, and espousing the revisionist version of Western history favored by the movement,” of which she emphasizes the empowerment of women and the revisionist view of history, which reclaims an oppressed yet extant tradition of goddess worship across the globe. And yet there is a significant difference between the two perspectives: the implications of continuous versus discontinuous goddess traditions are not the same.
CONTINUOUS GODDESS TRADITIONS
AND AUTHORITY IN FEMALE SPIRITUAL LEADERS
In India, Hindu goddesses have had a continuous public presence in religious life for millennia, while in the Western context, goddess traditions have been marginalized, forced underground, or destroyed. From a feminist perspective, the implication of these divergent histories is that Hindu goddesses have a long history of patriarchal interpretation, which Gupta, for example, strives to undo. In contrast, goddesses in Western traditions are believed to have either always had women in secretive societies as custodians, or they have been abandoned; in either case, they may not have been subjected to layers of patriarchal interpretation, and can directly be endowed with current feminist meanings.
Awareness of this difference needs to inform Western feminist understandings of Hindu goddesses as well as their dialexis in presenting meanings to others, such as the efforts of Rita Gross (1978), who supports reimagining the Hindu goddess across cultures and religions.12 The rhetorical force of her reinterpretation is to open possibilities of the meaning and significance of a subject to people who are located in a different cultural milieu than the symbol’s home culture (although this mode privileges spatial orientation, it is operative across time as well, it is relevant equally for those in a culture that is historically discontinuous with the context of the symbol as well as those in a culture that is historically continuous with it). Gross (1996: 233) understands herself to be a “translator of symbolic meanings”:
Although I insist on portraying Hindu materials accurately, I focus on what contemporary Western seekers might learn from these images and symbols, rather than on what they mean in the Hindu context. I do not suggest that Jews and Christians begin to worship Hindu goddesses, but t hat speci f ic symbols, images, and myths a l ready wel l developed in the Hindu context might be inspiring to Christians and Jews as they attempt to reimagine their monotheistic deity. I look deeply into the Hindu tradition for insights about the meanings of goddess symbolism and suggest how those symbols might appear when translated into contemporary Western religious discourse.
Siddha Yoga is also engaged in the cultural translation of Hindu traditions to Westerners; however, the organization’s ethos involves neither a sense of reclamation nor one of reimagining a monotheistic deity. The cornerstone is instead an idea of the universal significance and applicability of a specific spiritual path. If the issue is framed as one of accessibility, then many aspects of Siddha Yoga can be pointed to, including its establishment of ashrams worldwide, most in the vicinity of major metropolitan areas; its self-identification as a spiritual path rather than a religion (Hindu-inspired rather than Hinduism), and thus its stance as compatible, rather than at variance, with other religious identities its devotees may have; publication of its teachings in many languages; open registration for its programs; and its emphasis on God language but general avoidance of the traditional Hindu mythological stories that contextualize the deities in classical thought. An important example of the latter is iva who, in Siddha Yoga, is paramount to Ultimate Reality, and the light of Pure Consciousness. In certain Hindu scriptures, however, he is depicted as the heroic deity of mythical narratives. In Siddha Yoga, he is perceived in terms of his transcendent nature, represented as a divine light, and not as the agent of eight heroic deeds as in mythology.13 In furtherance of its aspiration toward universality and practicality, its many programs encourage devotees to apply the teachings directly to their lives in the wider world.
If t he issue is framed as one of authenticity, other aspects of Siddha Yoga can be highlighted, including the establishment of traditional-style residential spiritual retreats (ashrams and the gurukula residential teaching mode in which the student lives at the home of the guru); teachings and ritual practices based on authoritative, classical Sanskrit texts; centrality of the traditional Hindu practices of meditation, sera (voluntary, selfless service), chanting, and vegetarian
ism; and the establishment of the Muktabodha Indological Research Institute, “dedicated to the study, preservation and dissemination of the ancient spiritual wisdom of India.”14 In Siddha Yoga, the universality of accessibility frames the specificity of tradition.
Underlying Siddha Yoga’s practice of universality is a philosophy of universality. In addition to its manifestation in cultural, geographical, and ritual dimensions, the encounter between particularity and universality has resonances in the central philosophy of Siddha Yoga. Siddha Yoga emphasizes a subtle, divine essence that connects all living beings; this essence is most often called akti in the tradition. akti is a classical term in Hinduism meaning “spiritual power” or “divine energy,” and is explicitly associated with the feminine in classical texts of mythology, philosophy, and law.15 akti is gendered by the widespread historical representation of it as especially concentrated in the feminine principle, the Goddess, and women.16 The Great Goddess (Mahâdevï), Matrix of the Cosmos, and the creative power of iva, is simply referred to as “akti” particularly in tantric-influenced theological traditions that are the roots of Siddha Yoga. Thus, akti refers to the power of enlightened realization, associated with the divine feminine, and attainable through in-depth spiritual practice; akti, as the Great Goddess is also the term used to denote the Mother of the Universe, as dynamic, pervasive, divine energy, perceived as feminine. I have discussed elsewhere Gurumayi and Siddha Yoga’s degendering and regendering of the guru and akti through performance17; here I explore Siddha Yoga’s teachings through the overlapping themes of the relationship between the human and divine, the devotee and the guru, and the feminine and female through the idea and practice of akti, in which the validation of personal experience is central.
In Hinduism, a guru is classically understood to be a human being whose perfect spiritual realization reveals humankind’s inherent divinity, and makes possible other human beings’ achievement of perfect spiritual realization. Female gurus add the complexity of akti to this basic definition, whether in classical stories, where they are depicted as wives; in historical stories, where their steadfast devotion, love of learning, and public teaching puts them in conflict with the patriarchal social world; and in the twentieth century and the contemporary era, when women gurus have actively associated themselves with feminine imagery.18 For example, most of the female gurus active in the twentieth century and today have had the appellation “Ma” (Mother) in their titles, including Gauri Ma, Anandamayi Ma, Ma Jaya, Jayashri Ma, Shree Ma, Anandi Ma, Karunamayi Ma, Meera Ma, Ammachi (Mata Amritanandamayi), and Ganga Ma. Gurumayi does not have “Ma” in her title, but her title can be understood as “guru-mother.”19
“Mother” is a term of respect in common parlance in India; traditionally, kinship terms are used in social conversation rather than given first names. In ordinary society, however, there would tend to be a match between the social nomenclature of mother and the biological fact of motherhood; but this connection is ruptured in the persona of the female guru. The female gurus’ use of feminine imagery supports a paradigm of renunciation and the rejection of socially defined womanhood. As Madhu Khanna (2000: 116) notes, citing June McDaniel:
In s’akta circles, all women—be they young maidens or mature women—are addressed as M or Dev or Vr. This title protects women from being looked on in sexual terms. As it is rightly pointed out, “To call a woman ‘mother’ is a classic way for an Indian male to deflect a woman’s hint at marriage or a courtesan’s proposition.”20
The deflection, of course, works in both ways: If female gurus do have a husband (e.g., Anandamayi Ma, Ma Jaya, Meera Ma), that relationship is very much subordinated to their identities as chaste gurus.
Relationships with men are constituted within the guru-disciple relationship: A female guru’s husband is characterized as her disciple (e.g., Anandamayi Ma); some of the female gurus have men as chief disciples (e.g., Ammachi, Gurumayi); and several of the female gurus themselves had male gurus (e.g., Gauri Ma, Ma Jaya, Jayashri Ma, Mother Meera, Gurumayi).21 In the case of Gurumayi, she was initiated into samnysin-hood (monastic life) by her guru; the question of marriage never emerged, as it did in the biographies of most other female gurus. The female gurus themselves provide women with a legitimate alternative to the culturally mandated roles of wife and mother, and they enact their guruhood in the public realm; for example, Anandamayi Ma went from purdah to appearing before thousands with her head and face uncovered, framed by her long unbound hair.22
Further, as perfect embodiments of akti, female gurus are understood by Hindu tradition and by their followers alike to be manifestations of the Goddess. Many of the contemporary female gurus are viewed as embodiments of specific goddesses.23 I have found that while devotees do understand Gurumayi to be the Goddess, they do not tend to identify her with a specific form of the Goddess, save for their rather playful suggestions that the paintings of Lakshmi, the Goddess of wealth, placed around the ashram at locations where devotees can make a donation, bear a striking resemblance to the guru— t h is is i n pa r t at least a n acknowledgment t hat t he S Y DA orga nizat ion the guru leads is extremely wealthy. Generally speaking, the guru is the Goddess in a personal, interactive mode, primarily that of teacher. The guru is a divine teacher; she is a universal teacher.
Feminists have long remarked that the Hindu Goddess symbolizes the universality of the feminine principle. The figure of the female guru adds another dimension, by positing that, through the embodied persona of the Hindu female guru, female is universal. The guru is like the Goddess in that she is both divine and universal; she is like the saints in that she is an embodied, religiously devoted woman. The female guru is both, and in that capacity, the demonstration that “female is universal” belongs most appropriately to her. As Western feminists have discussed, the operative formula in patriarchal societies is to view maleness and male experience as universal, while femaleness and female experience is particular and thus limited. Hindu female gurus innovatively challenge this paradigm, rejecting pat riarchal assumpt ions. The Hindu female guru is universal through her nature, power, presence, and teachings. Female gurus participate in the Tantric understanding of my, which has a universal identity distinctive from the meanings of my emphasized by many Western feminists and the Advaita Vedanta idea of it discussed earlier in this essay. Rita D. Sherma (1998: 115) has captured this difference:
In Advaita Vedanta, for example, the world is said to be a product of my, both my and its result being ontologically dubious: neither real (for nothing is real but the Nirguna Brahman) nor totally unreal (for the world does have a provisional validity as the common experience of all who are not liberated). My, in Tantra, on the other hand, is the fully real power of the Goddess to differentiate herself into the multiple forms of the fully real universe. In Tantra, reality has two aspects: the manifest world and self-existent, unmanifest potentiality. The universe is the embodiment of the Goddess and as such, not only real in an ontological sense, but a sacred hierophany. [A]s my-akti, she becomes the necessary power of differentiation by which all contrasting forms and phenomena are created and the underlying unity is veiled.
The female guru embodies both the universal unity and the particular manifestation in the world that points to this unity. The universal outreach of Siddha Yoga takes place through the guru’s transmission of akti (here, implying the power to attain insight of the universal unity and thus spiritual liberation) to the devotee; this process is known as aktipat. At its most fundamental level, aktipat occurs through the intention (sankalpa) of the guru. The guru’s intention may become manifest to the devotee in several different ways: through the physical presence or touch of the guru, through t he teach i ng ac t iv it ies of a repre sent at ive of t he g u r u (such a s a Sidd h a Yogaswami), through an image of the guru (many photographs of the guru are sold in Siddha Yoga bookshops), or through a visionary experience that the devotee has of the guru. Through aktipat, the guru transmits the power of enlightened awaken
ing to the devotee. The transmission of aktipat is understood to be a beginning of the devotee’s fruitful spiritual activities, or as an encouragement to devotees already on the path; it is never understood to be an endpoint or culmination. As the biography of Gurumayi, which emphasizes her own spiritual practice (sdhana) prior to becoming the guru, suggests, the devotee’s own spiritual practice is essential.24
The nature and goal of the devotee’s spiritual practice should not be confused with any idea that the devotee is attempting to, or even aspires to, become the guru in terms of the guru’s leadership of the Siddha Yoga organization. Instead, the goal of the devotee is to raise her spiritual awareness up to the level of the guru’s. The history of Siddha Yoga demonstrates that the successor guru is chosen completely at the decision and discretion of the current guru, and there is never a public rationale provided for the specific choice. Within this frame, the biographies of the second guru in Siddha Yoga, Swami Muktananda, and the current guru, Gurumayi, emphasize that they engaged in intense spiritual practice prior to becoming the guru. Through the guru and the ashram, both akti and sdhana are accessible to the devotee. All devotees have the potential to achieve the enlightened inner state that characterizes the guru because each devotee participates in the guru’s spiritual field through aktipat and practice. The guru is a particularized emblem of universality, a paradox that reveals the contrast between the goals of feminist goddess spirituality and the path of female gurus:
Power, self affirmation, and celebration of earth energy are not the goal: conscious immersion in a reality that precedes earth and ego is more to the point. Because of this divergence of emphasis, the teachings of India’s women of spirit are to some degree out of sync with the present evocation of Goddess energy in the West. (Johnsen, 1994: 26)