Spiritual Alternative # 6: Mahamudra Buddhism

The central meditation tradition of the Kagyu school of Tibetan Buddhism is Mahamudra, which is also common to the Sakya and Geluk schools, but not the Nyingma.  Its characteristic or distinguishing practice is deity yoga, or the practice of visualizing oneself as a deity of one’s choice (or, more accurately, that one’s guru considers appropriate) in order to undermine one’s ordinary sense of separate individuality, and in order to transcend ordinary awareness and realize one’s intrinsic buddhahood (which exists at least in potential form in all sentient beings).  There are two stages of deity yoga, otherwise known as anuttara yoga tantra or highest yoga tantra.  The first is the generation stage, where one begins visualizing oneself as a deity (and engages in multiple yogic practices).  The latter is the completion stage, where one fully realizes oneself as a deity, and where one realizes the clear light of the void or mind of clear light, which is (at least the initial) realization of the wisdom and awakening of a buddha. 

There are six stages or yanas that precede anuttara yoga tantra in the Mahamudra, starting with the yanas of the shravaka (“hearer,” i.e. one who hears the teachings of the historical Buddha, then puts them into practice and becomes and arhat, or one who comes to awakening and is not thereafter reborn according to the Theravada) and the pratyeka (a solitary practitioner who achieves the insight of a buddha, but does not teach it to others).  At these stages, the adept practices mindfulness and concentration meditation, which are the principal forms of meditation in the Theravada tradition today, and in all “Southern” schools of Buddhism historically.  Next comes the Mahayana or Bodhisattvayana, the Vehicle of the Bodhisattva, or the vehicle of the one who vows to become awakened out of compassion for all sentient beings.  The basis of this is bodhicitta, the mind of awakening, which includes both the sincere vow to become awakened for the benefit of all sentient beings, as well as a profound realization of the meaning of shunyata or emptiness (explained below).  After this come the three “lower” tantric vehicles, kriya, charya, and yoga tantra.  At these stages, the adept performs various rituals and purificatory practices, and is initiated by a qualified guru into the tantric tradition.  Meditation on and devotion to various deities, the practice of reciting mantras, the use of ritualized hand gestures (mudras), and the ritualized use of depictions of the external and internal cosmos (mandalas) are common at these stages.

Mahamudra Buddhists also strive to recognize the clear light of the void or mind of clear light in the intermediate state that Tibetan Buddhists believe exists between death and the next rebirth, and in dreams.  In these states, the physical body gives way to the subtle or astral body, and this body is not solid like the ordinary physical body.  One who is trained properly can recognize the Buddha-Nature upon leaving the physical body, whether in sleep or just after death, and can either prevent further rebirths for themselves or choose their next rebirth to benefit sentient beings caught in samsara.  Beings who are not properly trained, and not prepared for death, will find themselves gravitating toward a particular mode of existence based on their past actions (i.e., they will continue to be subject to the law of karma and rebirth in the six realms of existence: that of the gods or angels, that of demigods, that of humans, that of animals, that of ghosts, and that of hell-dwellers). 

Like Dzogchen, the Mahamudra approach is complex, with multiple stages of realization, elaborate rituals, and a heavy focus on secrecy (at least prior to the twentieth century).  It is very sophisticated, being based (at least ultimately) on a careful experiential examination of the nature of consciousness (insofar as something as seemingly non-interchangeable between minds as interior experiences of consciousness can be examined “carefully”), although as usual with traditionalist organizations like the Sakya, Kagyu and Geluk schools, the authoritarian nature of the guru-disciple relationship and of monasteries and meditation centers mean that abuses occur and the transformation of consciousness has not always been the primary goal of those claiming to follow the Mahamudra approach.  (This latter statement is, of course, true of all forms of organized religion, spirituality, philosophy, and consciousness-transformation.)  If one seeks to practice the Mahamudra, it is necessary to undertake practice with a guru, as initiation by and devotion to a qualified guru is one of the most important components of all tantric traditions.  However, in choosing a guru, one should be very cautious, ensuring that one is well-acquainted not just with the outer behavior of one’s potential guru(s), but what is really in their hearts.  It is too easy for these relationships to become abusive to justify any other approach.  Be that as it may, the Mahamudra is a profound approach to the transformation of consciousness, and it can lead to the same dazzling awareness of (or rather, awareness as) one’s intrinsic buddhahood, as Zen and Dzogchen.    

Buddhists in the celibate Geluk lineage, which is the only celibate lineage of Tibetan Buddhism, and is the lineage headed by the Dalai Lama, consider the Madhyamaka school of Buddhist scholasticism, specifically its Prasangika branch, to be the most profound philosophy of Buddhism.  The Madhyamaka will be discussed in greater detail in the section devoted to it, but the basic idea of it is that all phenomena, or all components of the world, as well as all transformations of those phenomena or components of the world, are empty of self-existence, or own-being, or intrinsic existence.  In other words, because they are produced by various causes and conditions, and because they themselves serve as causes and conditions of other phenomena, they cannot be said to possess a permanent underlying essence or a persistent basis of identity.  Phenomena are experienced, and can be said to exist in a relative sense because they are experienced, but if one analyzes phenomena, it is clear that they are always changing, never the same from moment to moment.  In the practice of Geluk Buddhism, which includes both the Mahamudra meditation and training in Madhyamaka-Prasangika philosophy, this emptiness (Skt. shunyata) is identified with the clear light of the void or mind of clear light, which is thus considered ultimately no different than phenomena themselves.  However, for a being caught up in samsara, phenomena appear real, and cause future rebirths, even if these rebirths are seen to be like the fleeting images of dreams to the awakened mind. 

Tibetan Buddhists, like most tantric practitioners and many other practitioners of traditions with origins in South Asia, use meditation and similar practices to cultivate magical and paranormal powers called siddhis that yield benefits to oneself and others in this lifetime.  One who attains such powers is known as a siddha.  The use of magic and paranormal powers has historically been central to the practice of Tibetan Buddhism, of both the popular and monastic varieties.     

Spiritual Alternative # 5: Dzogchen Buddhism

This is one of the major meditation traditions of Tibetan Buddhism, and is affiliated primarily with the Nyingma school, though it is also the primary approach of the heterodox Bon tradition, which combines Buddhist elements with an indigenous pre-Buddhist form of Tibetan spirituality, and is also used in the Kagyu tradition (along with Mahamudra).  It is a Mahayana and Vajrayana (or tantric) tradition. 

The basic premise of Dzogchen (or “The Great Perfection”), which is common to all Mahayana traditions, is that all sentient beings are always already enlightened buddhas and simply need to recognize it.  Dzogchen is premised on the belief that all sentient beings have the mind of clear light or intrinsic awareness, and this is the true nature of every sentient being, i.e. the buddha-nature of every sentient being.  The mind of clear light or intrinsic awareness is really none other than the awareness which each and every sentient being has right now, in the present moment.  Dzogchen’s aim is to recognize that one already abides in or as this intrinsic awareness, and that this occurs effortlessly.  This recognition is not even a form of meditation according to many Dzogchen masters. 

All objects of consciousness arise within the mind of clear light or intrinsic awareness, which reflects all things that arise within it but does not become caught up in them.  Samsara and nirvana, or the cycle of endless death and rebirth and release from this cycle, which are set in opposition to each other in pre-Mahayana Buddhist traditions, both arise within the mind of clear light or intrinsic awareness.  The mind of clear light perceives both, and both are in fact manifestations of the mind of clear light.  Every sentient being has this intrinsic awareness and simply needs to recognize it to manifest his or her basic buddhahood.  It is not an underlying unity like the Brahman of the Advaita Vedantins or the One of the Neoplatonists.  Rather, it is non-dual, which is to say, beyond all dualities and dualistic notions, including any notion of the One as opposed to the many or Brahman as opposed to Maya, whether from a relative or an absolute perspective.

Although the above is Dzogchen’s basic premise, and in theory it is permissible simply to rest in one’s true nature, the mind of clear light, which is one’s inherent buddhahood, there are eight other “vehicles” (Skt. yanas) besides the ninth and highest vehicle, Dzogchen (Skt. Atiyoga), that one can use to achieve the progressive realizations of wisdom and awakening according to the Nyingma tradition.  In fact, the Nyingma holds that it is best to first practice the lower eight vehicles, ideally in order, before being introduced to the “effortless” ninth vehicle of Dzogchen itself. 

The first three vehicles are non-tantric, with the third being the Mahayana proper, and the first two consisting of the vehicle of those who come to know the Buddha’s teaching by hearing or reading about it (known as the Shravakayana, which includes the Theravada), and the vehicle of solitary buddhas (Pratyekayana).  In these two stages, the adept practices mindfulness and concentration meditation, which will be discussed in greater detail in the section on the Theravada. 

In the third vehicle, the Mahayana, the adept cultivates the bodhisattva vow and begins the journey to full buddhahood by going through the ten stages (or bhumis) of the bodhisattva path.  The bodhisattva path and bodhisattva ideal is the defining feature of the Mahayana, of which all extant Tibetan traditions are part (note that some schools of Tibetan Buddhism add several more bhumis to the basic list of ten). 

The next three vehicles are the “outer tantric” vehicles.  Here, the adept uses mantras, mudras, the contemplation of mandalas, ritual empowerment by gurus (instruction by a guru is also necessary in the vehicle of Dzogchen, according to most Nyingma masters), dream yoga, etc. 

The next two vehicles are “inner tantric” vehicles, and consist of contemplating oneself as a deity, of visualizing oneself as a deity, ultimately seeing the contingency of one’s own sense of identity and all phenomena.  The highest vehicle, again, is Dzogchen itself.

Dzogchen, like other Mahayana and Vajrayana traditions, accepts the traditional Buddhist cosmology of six realms of rebirth for beings within samsara, who are reborn again and again until they become awakened to their true or inherent nature as buddhas.  While all of this occurs within the pure effortless awareness of the mind of clear light or intrinsic awareness, it still seems like concrete reality to sentient beings trapped in samsara because they ignorantly identify with the objects of this awareness rather than recognizing their true nature as this awareness itself.  Thus, it is still important for such beings to engage in wholesome or moral behavior (in order to obtain a more favorable rebirth), and it is important for them to practice Buddhism in order to realize their true nature, eliminate ignorance, and develop the perfections of a bodhisattva. 

Dzogchen has a very sophisticated and detailed account of the process of awakening, and some of its teachings are simple and straightforward, while others are complicated and nuanced.  The tantric practices of the Nyingma are quite complex and difficult, but the basic practice of Dzogchen is simple in theory, though very few people actually recognize the mind of clear light or intrinsic awareness in practice.  After all, if it were really easy to do this, virtually anybody who heard and understood this teaching intellectually would become a fully awakened buddha very quickly, and would not simply be, like all other sentient beings, a buddha who has not yet realized his or her true nature. 

Needless to say, most people who hear Dzogchen teachings and understand them intellectually do not quickly become fully awakened buddhas, and Dzogchen is only fully useful for those who have already practiced extensively in at least some of the eight lower yanas.  However, it can be partially useful for everybody, since it is possible to recognize the mind of clear light or intrinsic awareness as the perceiver or space of cognition behind any experience that one has at any time.  But again, there are few who can recognize it as such all the time or even most of the time (or, heck, even some of the time). 

To my mind, Dzogchen and the traditions in which it is found are full of contradictions.  They teach that the supreme goal is to effortlessly abide in the awareness one already has, because this is none other than the awareness of a buddha, but also feature extraordinarily complicated paths of multiple stages of spiritual development chock-full of elaborate rituals and hierarchical esoterism.  I know I will be accused of misunderstanding Dzogchen, as well as the Nyingma, Kagyu, and heterodox Bon traditions, but I honestly do not see any way for these conflicting facets of these traditions to be reconciled. 

I also do not believe in the law of karma or the multiple realms of rebirth, either literally or figuratively, since I have yet to encounter convincing evidence for the existence of either.  (There is some evidence for rebirth, and some evidence for post-mortem existence, but nothing that convinces me that either is a reality.  Furthermore, none of these accounts provide evidence for the law of karma, or the view that the morality or immorality of one’s past and present actions determine the circumstances of one’s future births, and that the morality or immorality of one’s past actions have determined one’s present circumstances.)  

Interlude # 2: Introduction to the Tantric Traditions

Tantric traditions are based on a class of South Asian ritual and meditation manuals known as tantras.  The basic idea of all tantric traditions, whether they are Buddhist, Hindu, or Jain, is to use ordinary states of mind, specifically states of desire, in the process of becoming awakened.  In most Buddhist and Hindu traditions, and in both major Jain monastic traditions, the renunciation of the ordinary life of desire is considered a prerequisite for committing oneself to the path of awakening or liberation.  However, the tantric traditions seek to use desire on the path of awakening rather than renounce it altogether.

This does not mean that the tantric traditions encourage self-indulgence.  Rather, what they really do, at least in theory, is to encourage people to transcend base desires using the wisdom at the heart of every one of them.   The wisdom of the Buddha and the Buddha-Nature, or in the tantric Hindu context, of Shiva-Shakti and one’s true identity as Shiva-Shakti, exist in all situations, including those involving sensual desire, and can be realized in all situations, including those involving sensual desire.  It is this insight that the tantric traditions seek to utilize in the pursuit of wisdom through desire. 

Other major practices of the tantric traditions include secret rituals and initiation ceremonies, complete dedication to one’s guru as equivalent or identical to a deity or a buddha (depending on the tradition, though Tibetan Buddhism includes both), elaborate visualization practices (of deities and other important beings), the use of mandalas (or maps of the cosmos) and yantras ( or geometric designs representing deities and concepts), the use of mudras (or stylized hand gestures – though this word also refers to “parched grain,” one of the five taboo substances discussed below), and the use of mantras (best translated as “sacred phrases”).

Ritualized sex is part of the tantric traditions of Buddhism and Hinduism, at least in theory (and often in practice as well), but it is not the central practice of any form of tantrism, whether Buddhist or Hindu (and it is absent in Jainism, the tantric tradition of which is of the extreme “right hand” variety).  However, sexual intercourse is one of the five things that were traditionally taboo for monks and mendicants to do in South Asian society, along with consuming alcohol, eating meat, eating fish, and eating parched grain, all of which tantric practitioners did and still do either literally or symbolically.  These five taboos are known as Panchamakara, or the “Five M’s” – because they all begin with that letter in Sanskrit.  Antinomian behavior, which consists of engaging in the “Five M’s” as well as other taboo activities, is part of many tantric traditions.  It is very prominent in the Kagyu tradition of Tibetan Buddhism, as well as in the Kapalika and non-tantric Pashupata traditions of Shaivism and the tantric Kalikula traditions of Shaktism, all of which can safely be categorized as “left-hand” forms of tantrism (with the Pashupata simply being a form of “left-hand” cremation-ground asceticism rather than left-hand tantrism). 

However, other tantric traditions, such as the Geluk sect of Tibetan Buddhism headed by the Dalai Lama, the popular Shaiva Siddhanta tradition of Southern India, the householder tradition of monistic Shaivism that is usually known as “Kashmir Shaivism” (and which is based on Kapalika or “Cremation-Ground” Shaivism, but no longer incorporates that element of the Shaiva tradition in practice), and the Srikula traditions of Shaktism, discourage antinomian behavior almost entirely (or even altogether), allowing it only for the most advanced practitioners, and even then only on rare occasions.  These “right hand” tantric traditions interpret the “Five M’s” symbolically, and often go out of their way to discourage antinomianism among their practitioners, especially their monastics and priests. 

Tantric practices are part of all the following traditions: Shingon Buddhism (which is the oldest school of tantric Buddhism, and is still popular in Japan); Tendai Buddhism (as a minor element of the tradition, and only in Japanese Tendai, not Chinese Tiantai); the four major schools of Tibetan Buddhism – the Nyingma, Kagyu, Sakya, and Geluk (as well as the minor schools of Jonang and Kadampa); Bon, the heterodox tradition of Tibetan Buddhism that mixes tantric Buddhist elements and indigenous Tibetan elements; the Newar tradition of Buddhism in Nepal (which I will not cover in this series); Kapalika (or “Cremation Ground”) Shaivism; Kaula; Kashmir Shaivism, which is also known as Trika; Shaiva Siddhanta; Natha Yoga or Siddha Siddhanta; Shiva Advaita; Vira Shaivism or Lingayatism; Kalikula Shaktism; Srikula Shaktism; and some esoteric traditions of Jainism.  Some reform movements within Hinduism and Buddhism also have tantric overtones.  Aurobindo’s Integral Yoga has a metaphysic that is similar to Advaita Vedanta in some ways, but it is (at least in theory) more life-affirming and world-affirming (even though, by Western standards, it is still quite ascetic, as it encourages extreme moderation in most sensual activities as well as celibacy), and this element of it seems to derive from tantric traditions more than Advaita Vedanta.  The Ramakrishna Mission / Ramakrishna Math and its American branch, the Vedanta Society, while it is based principally on Advaita Vedanta, has its roots in a guru (Ramakrishna) who was originally, and while alive never ceased to be, a devotee of Kali, and a tantric adept of the right-hand variety (baseless claims by some psychoanalytically-inclined scholars about his mystical experiences being the result of repressed homosexuality and pedophiliac tendencies notwithstanding).    

Interlude # 1: Buddhist Modernism and Buddhist Traditionalism

In analyzing any tradition of Buddhism, it is important to be mindful of the difference between traditionalist and modernist presentations of Buddhism (see David McMahan’s excellent book on the subject for a more detailed overview). 

Modernist presentations tend to demythologize the historical Buddha, Siddhartha Gautama, as well as the traditional cosmology that (according to all three Asian-language canons) he taught.  Instead, they present the Buddha as “merely human” rather than a “teacher of gods and humans” who possessed various supernormal powers such as the ability to fly while seated in the lotus posture and the ability to walk on water, and they interpret the traditional cosmology consisting of multiple realms where a sentient entity can be reborn in each new lifetime nonliterally. 

Modernists also tend to present Buddhism as fully in accord with modern science, and as empirical in its own right.  They (by giving modernizing interpretations to texts such as the Kalama Sutta) present it as highly individualistic, as something to be accepted or rejected based on whether or not one’s experiences confirm its teachings.  They deemphasize the importance of monasticism and the monastic community while trying to appeal more to laypeople living busy modern lives.  They emphasize meditation and philosophy or doctrine, and they present Buddhism as the tradition most consistent with secular humanist values. 

In true Protestant fashion (some scholars of Buddhism, notably Richard Gombrich, even refer to Buddhist Modernism, or at least the most popular segment of it, as “Protestant Buddhism”), Buddhist Modernists almost take it for granted that Buddhist texts, especially the sermons of the Buddha, have the final say on matters of practice and doctrine (despite frequently distorting these texts for the sake of their modernist agenda; then again, traditionalists have also tended to do the same for their agenda).

On the other hand, traditionalist Buddhists tend to emphasize the importance of the monastic tradition of Buddhism, including the observance by monks of the traditional rules of monastic conduct, the vinaya.  If the Pali Canon is to be trusted, Siddhartha Gautama believed that renouncing the everyday life of a householder or other layperson was absolutely essential in order to have a chance at becoming liberated from the cycle of rebirth in this lifetime.  As a corollary, most traditionalist Buddhists hold that the best that laypeople can hope for in their next lifetime is a more favorable rebirth, which they can gain by engaging in meritorious conduct, such as ritualistic acts of devotion towards stupas or pagodas and statues of the Buddha, chanting mantras, and above all, providing the means of sustenance to monks. 

In general, traditionalists believe that the Saha world-system with its multiple netherworlds or hells or places of great suffering, the realm of the hungry ghosts at or just beneath the surface of the earth, the realms of animals and humans on the earth’s surface, the realm of the demigods just above the earth, the heavens of the realm of desire well above the earth, the heavens of form far above the earth, and the formless realms beyond, literally exists.  One is reborn again and again in these realms as long as one continues to generate new seeds of rebirth by acting in the world based on one’s desires and attachments.  While there is no permanent self, since all the components of what is conventionally called the self are themselves always changing from moment to moment and lifetime to lifetime, rebirth still occurs for all who are caught up in the endless cycle of death and rebirth, or samsara. 

All of this happens quite literally according to traditionalists, and the graphic depictions of torment in the hells, as well as the graphic depictions of the pleasures of the heavens, refer to post-mortem states that literally exist.  As for the Buddha, traditionalists do not regard him as a mere human in any tradition, including Theravada and Chan/Zen.  He is the “World-Honored One,” the “Thus-Come One,” the “Teacher of Gods and Humans,” with the ability to perform many wondrous and miraculous deeds.  To call him merely human in a traditionalist Buddhist context would be quite ludicrous, even though that is how most Modernists see him.  He is not a god, but is rather greater than any god.        

Many Western Buddhists, and even Westerners generally, believe that Buddhist Modernism is the “real” Buddhism, and that the more mythological aspects of the tradition are meant to be interpreted nonliterally, or even that they are not part of Buddhism at all, but represent pre-Buddhist cultural baggage from societies where Buddhism later became established. 

In reality, the predominant narrative of Buddhist Modernism was developed jointly by a handful of (mostly lay) Asian Buddhists and Western Orientalists and Theosophists in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, and represents a definitive break with all earlier interpretations of Buddhism.  This narrative has been the primary (and in most cases the only) narrative about Buddhism that Westerners have heard, and it is through this lens that most Westerners, especially Western Buddhists, have interpreted the whole tradition. 

I do not wish to condemn this narrative or say that it is “wrong,” especially since I strongly prefer Buddhist Modernism to nearly all forms of Buddhist Traditionalism, even if Buddhist Modernism distorts the historical teachings and practices of Buddhism to a greater degree than Buddhist Traditionalism.  I merely wish to point out that it is a recent innovation, and generally does not agree with many of the literal words that the Buddha allegedly spoke. 

It is, again, true that traditionalist forms of Buddhism have also distorted the Buddha’s literal words, but it has generally been to a lesser degree.  Moreover, these forms tend not to be as concerned with strict adherence to the original words as Modernist forms, though of course they have been at least somewhat concerned with it.

Buddhist Modernism has been the primary lens through which most forms of Buddhism have been interpreted in the West, as well as in lay scholarly and intellectual circles in many Asian Buddhist countries.  It has been particularly significant in interpretations of Theravada, Chan/Zen (which, owing to D.T. Suzuki’s influence, is often not even regarded as a form of Buddhism in Western countries), and Tibetan Buddhism in the West. 

Many of the individuals who first or most famously presented the teachings of these traditions to Western audiences (particularly Henry Steel Olcott and Anagarika Dharmapala in the case of the Theravada, Soen Shaku and D.T. Suzuki in the case of Zen, and the Fourteenth Dalai Lama and his Western supporters in the case of Tibetan Buddhism) intentionally cut out or interpreted nonliterally the less “rational” aspects of their respective forms of Buddhism (which all of them have certainly had historically) to make them more appealing to Westerners reared on the scientific method and Enlightenment values like reason, freedom, and equality.

In the end, one could even make the argument that the novel presentation of Buddhism provided by modernists is in fact quite traditional, since one of the central emphases of the Buddha’s teachings in the Pali Canon and many Mahayana texts is the importance of adapting one’s teachings to the needs and abilities of one’s audience.  Traditionalists would likely counter that modernists bend the tradition far more than the Buddha himself would have allowed.  However, that is a debate for another time.

Spiritual Alternative # 4: Raja Yoga

Raja Yoga refers to the system of yoga taught in the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, and is otherwise known as Ashtanga or “Eight-Limbed” Yoga.  The Yoga Sutras represent the first systematized exposition of yoga in South Asian history, though the practices and beliefs they describe predate the composition of the text, possibly by many centuries or even millennia.  These sutras were composed sometime between the third century BCE and the fifth century CE, but scholars have not been able to date them with certainty.  These sutras are to the Yoga tradition (or traditions) what the Brahma Sutras are to the schools of the Vedanta tradition: the foundational texts of the tradition.*   

  

The aim of ashtanga yoga, as delineated in the Yoga Sutras, is citta-vriddhi-nirodha, or “stilling of the mind’s fluctuations” (Chapple 2003, p. 15), or “cessation of the turnings of thought” (Miller 1995, p. 29), so that “the spirit [or purusha, defined below] stands in its true identity as observer to the world” (Miller 1995, p. 29).   

The practice of ashtanga yoga consists of eight limbs:

(1) yama, or the basic moral precepts of ahimsa (non-violence, a concept made famous in ancient India by Jains, and in the modern world by Mohandas or “Mahatma” Gandhi), satya (truthfulness), asteya (non-stealing), brahmacharya (abstention from sex), and aparigraha (not coveting or not desiring material things – these precepts are exactly the same as the five basic precepts of Jainism; 

(2) niyama, or the observances of bodily purity, contentment, the practice of austerities, studying and reciting sacred scriptures, and dedicating oneself to Ishvara Yoga or the Lord of Yoga – the Lord of Yoga, at least in the Yoga Sutras, does not refer to a personal god, but to a mode of purusha, or one’s true nature, which is pure consciousness, beyond all manifest things, including the mind or inward sense, ego or sense of distinct self-identity, and intellect or faculty of knowledge/illumination – purusha is the observer of all things that occur within the purview of consciousness, but is not itself observed, and Ishvara Yoga is a pure, untainted, unmanifest mode of purusha (Miller 35-36);

(3) asana, or proper posture, which can consist of any one of the many postures of yoga popular in the contemporary world, but historically the primary posture of yogis practicing in the tradition of Patanjali has been padmasana, or the lotus posture;

(4) pranayama, or breath-control, i.e. consciously and precisely regulating inhalation and exhalation until the calm, natural breathing necessary for further success in the practice of yoga becomes automatic;

(5) pratyahara, or turning the senses inward, i.e. isolating the five senses from their objects, thus allowing for pure inward concentration;

(6) dharana, or keeping one’s concentration in one place;

(7) dhyana, or unwavering focus on a single object (one might call it a “deepening” of dharana); 

(8) samadhi, or the loss of any sense of subject-object duality and abiding in pure consciousness or pure contemplation – at the apex of the path of yoga is nirbija samadhi, where thought ceases and one effortlessly abides in pure consciousness or pure contemplation at all times, even in everyday life.  

The theoretical underpinnings of the system of yoga articulated in the Yoga Sutras are provided by the Samkhya school of Hindu philosophy.  I have already discussed the twenty-five tattvas, or elements of the world, in the section on Advaita Vedanta.  This list of twenty-five tattvas was first provided by the Samkhya Karika, the foundational text of the Samkhya school, and embraced by Vedantins and other adherents of other Hindu philosophical traditions at a later date.  (Shaivites have a list that includes these twenty-five and an additional eleven tattvas.)    

Here is a list of the twenty-five tattvas: 

(1) Purusha, pure consciousness or the witness of the arising of all manifestation, of all the other tattvas – it is often translated as “spirit” in English; 

(2) Prakriti, the primal principle of manifestation, that out of which all the other tattvas arise, often translated as “nature” or “matter” in English – Samkhya posits absolute dualism between Purusha and Prakriti, and the Yoga Sutras affirm this doctrine of dualism – there are three qualities (or gunas) of Prakriti that exist in different proportions in all of its manifestations, lucidity (sattva), passion (rajas), and dark inertia or obscurity (tamas); 

(3) buddhi, the intellect; 

(4) ahamkara, the ego or sense of distinct self-identity; 

(5) manas, the mind or inward sense or mind’s eye; collectively buddhi, ahamkara, and manas constitute manifest or conditioned consciousness, known as chitta (which is not to be confused with the similar-sounding word chit, which refers to pure consciousness or supreme awareness, beyond prakriti or manifestation, and is one of the three components of the description of Brahman as sat-chit-ananda discussed in my post on Advaita Vedanta); 

(6) – (10) the tanmatras, or the five senses considered inwardly, prior to their appearance in or interaction with the physical world: shabda, corresponding to sound or hearing; sparsha, corresponding to touch rupa, corresponding to sight or visual form; rasa, corresponding to taste; and gandha, corresponding to smell; 

(11) – (20) the indriyas, or the five faculties of sensation and the five faculties of action, the former including the ears, skin, eyes, tongue, and nose, the latter including the excretory organs, procreative organs, hands, feet, and larynx or voice; 

(21) – (25) the bhutas, or five physical elements: ether, air, fire, water, and earth. 

The Yoga Sutras reaffirm this list of twenty-five tattvas, and chart out a course of action that leads to the transcendence of prakriti and its twenty-three emanations or evolutes, and to abiding in pure consciousness, where all contents of consciousness are witnessed by the observer (drashtri, which is none other than is purusha), and where subject-object duality ultimately ceases, in the state or stage of samadhi.  The idea of the “unseen seer” or “unobserved observer”) has its origins in the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad (3.7.23), and because of this is also prominent in monistic and non-dualistic Hindu traditions, particularly Advaita Vedanta.  However, it was fully articulated in the more dualistic Yoga Sutras of Patanjali before, as well.  

Yoga, as it is described in the Yoga Sutras, includes much more than postures and breathing exercises.  It incorporates several types of what most Westerners would call meditation (and Hindus too: the Sanskrit word for “cultivation,” especially mental or spiritual cultivation, is bhavana), as well as a fairly rigorous moral code that has a lot in common with the moral codes of early Jainism and Buddhism.  In my experience, breath control while sitting in the lotus posture calms the mind better than any other practice.  Coupled with the regular practice of mindfulness or naked awareness of what is currently occurring in the stream of one’s consciousness (a practice that originates in Buddhism, and which was taught by the Buddha himself in several of his early discourses), it is probably the most effective preliminary practice for training the mind to engage in more advanced spiritual cultivation.  If one keeps at it, it is possible to reach the highest echelons of spiritual development through its practice, although it takes quite a long time in some cases, and so requires great patience and resolve.  The most difficult thing to do is to practice regularly in the early stages, but one who sincerely seeks spiritual advancement or development can most likely succeed at it.  This is true of most forms of spirituality or mental cultivation.    

A final note: the contemporary forms of yoga that are popular in South Asia and the West, and which emphasize postures and breath control, are almost all derived from the revived form of Hatha Yoga spearheaded by Tirumalai Krishnamacharya (1888-1989).  Krishnamacharya was a brilliant man who was not only the great reviver of Hatha Yoga, but was also familiar with all six Hindu darshanas and a practitioner of traditional Indian ayurvedic medicine.  However, none of the foregoing discussion deals with any of the forms of yoga derived from this revived tradition of Hatha Yoga.     

* There are four darshanas or traditions of Hindu philosophy besides Vedanta and Yoga that also have foundational texts in the form of sutras.  These other four traditions are the Purva Mimamsa (note that Vedanta is also called Uttara or “Later” Mimamsa, and complements Purva or “Earlier Mimamsa – Vedanta deals primarily with attaining moksha or liberation, while Purva Mimamsa deals primarly with proper ritual behavior), Nyaya, Vaisheshika, and Samkhya (the latter of which provides the theoretical basis for most of the concepts in the Yoga Sutra, and so is often considered continuous with the tradition of Yoga).  Note that unlike modern Western philosophy, in Hindu “philosophy,” there is no distinction between theology and spirituality or religion one the one hand, and philosophy proper on the other, or even between science and philosophy or mathematics and philosophy.  This was also the situation in the West prior to the modern period, but no longer is.  The important point here is that Hindu views of the world are not (or at least not exclusively) based on faith in the Christian sense, that is, assurance of the truth of things that one does not see, or belief in that which is not evident, or belief in what one hopes to be true rather than what one knows to be true (to paraphrase Chapter 11 of the Epistle to the Hebrews).  Hindu traditions, while they acknowledge a broader set of sources of knowledge than most traditions of contemporary Western thought – namely perception, including sensory perception and perception with the mind’s eye or inward sense; inference; analogy; and testimony of the wise or trustworthy, especially the seers (rishis) who composed the Vedas or had the eternal truth of the Vedas revealed to them, and human commentators on the Vedas – provide a greater place for reason than most (though certainly not all) Christians have historically done.  At the same time, it is true that the standard historical Hindu belief that a proposition is true because it is recorded in the sacred texts of the Hindu tradition (i.e., the Vedas, or shruti - “heard texts” – and sometimes the smriti, or “remembered texts”) or in authoritative commentaries on those texts sure seems a lot like faith in the Christian sense.

RECOMMENDED READING:

Yoga: Discipline of Freedom, which is a translation of the Yoga Sutras and a commentary on them by Barbara Stoler Miller, one of the greatest Sanskrit to English translators.  This is a translation of the sutras into simple, everyday English (although admittedly this approach has its dangers, it is still beneficial to those who have only a cursory or minor interest in understanding the foundations of yoga).  

There are multiple translations of the Yoga Sutras with commentaries available in English.  Miller's is excellent for those with a cursory or beginner's interest, but the more detailed translation and commentary by Professor Edwin Bryant is better for those with a stronger interest.  This translation and commentary provides a highly detailed translation of the aphorisms of the text (which are provided in Sanskrit, in both Devanagari and Latin transliteration, as well), as well as a general history of yoga and an overview of the intellectual background of the Yoga Sutras.  It is ideal for a person who wants a more in-depth overview of the text and the history of yoga.     

As everyone who has ever even casually perused the self-help and fitness sections of virtually any North American bookstore knows, there are seemingly countless books on yoga by different yoga teachers from South Asia, the West, and other parts of the world.  Many such writers have written their own translations and commentaries on Patanjali's sutras.  While all writers inevitably have certain biases, many of these translations and commentaries are written with a very blatant ideological (and pedagogical) agenda in mind, and do not even attempt to provide accurate information about the system delineated in Patanjali's sutras.  Thus, while many of them are quite good, I recommend approaching them with at least some skepticism.  Of course, one should take this approach with scholarly translations, as well.  

There are two books on comparative yoga that I also recommend.  First, there is The Crown of Life: A Study in Yoga by Kirpal Singh, a guru of Surat Shabad Yoga.  This book provides an excellent catalog of different types of yoga, and, unsurprisingly, ultimately argues for the superiority of Surat Shabad Yoga to all other types of yoga.  Second, there is Reconciling Yogas by the great Jain philosopher Haribhadra (the linked version was translated, with commentary, by Professor Christopher Key Chapple), who lived sometime between the sixth and eighth centuries CE.  Haribhadra is notable for being one of the first (and perhaps the first, though the Rig Veda vaguely alludes to the idea as well) thinker to argue that multiple paths of spiritual practice are capable of leading to the same goal of liberation or moksha.  This is the text in which he presented this argument, although predictably Haribhadra believed that his own Jain tradition was the most effective or direct means of achieving moksha, as well as the most correct in terms of doctrine and practice.    

Spiritual Alternative # 3: Zen Buddhism

Zen Buddhism (which is known as Chan in China, where it originated; Son in Korea; and Thien in Vietnam, and is based on the Sanskrit word dhyana, which is usually translated as "absorption" in modern English, but sometimes simply as "meditation"), according to its practitioners, is, as famous proponent of Zen Buddhism Masao Abe translates it, "[a]n independent transmission outside the teaching of the scriptures, [d]irectly pointing to man's Mind, [a]wakening of one's (Original-) Nature, thereby actualizing one's own Buddhahood" (attributed to Bodhidharma, founder of the Chan/Zen tradition, who is depicted as the transmitter of this tradition from India to China, and not its founder, in traditional Zen accounts).  However, like all traditions Zen Buddhism has a history.  It is not an ahistorical essence or a “wafting cloud in the sky” (D.T. Suzuki, An Introduction to Zen Buddhism, p. 41), at least not in practice.  

Zen Buddhism has definitive practices: zazen or seated meditation, of which there are several kinds (see The Three Pillars of Zen by Philip Kapleau Roshi, pp. 31-44, 141-142), and contemplation of koans, or non-logical statements designed to snap the mind out of its ordinary modes of cognition, at least after several years of intense practice, including some preliminary training in seated meditation.  It even has formal rituals, such as the chanting of sutras and the performance of funerals by Zen Buddhist monks (see The Other Side of Zen by Duncan Ryuken Williams and Soto Zen in Medieval Japan by William Bodiford for information on how such aspects of Zen Buddhism developed in Medieval Japan).  

Zen Buddhism has a rigid code of discipline (more rigid than most other forms of monastic Buddhism, in fact - see The Zen Monastic Experience by Robert Buswell and The Empty Mirror by Janwillem van de Wetering for Western accounts of contemporary Zen monasticism, the former in Korea and the latter in Japan; see The Baizhang Zen Monastic Regulations for a sample of some of the rules and regulations that Zen monks have historically been expected to follow).  It is very hierarchical and very traditional, as the mind of awakening has allegedly been passed from master to disciple for many generations, and respect for and obedience to one’s master is still expected in East Asian Chan/Son/Zen/Thien training.  (I will note here that there is one feature of Zen Buddhism that has been over-emphasized by those who see Zen as an exotic, foreign practice, and under-emphasized by those with a mere philosophical interest in Zen Buddhism: the use, by Zen masters, of the keisaku or kyosaku, or a stick used to hit disciples in order to help rouse them to awakening.  I will not go into details about this here.)

Still, the goals of Zen Buddhism are quite similar to those of Philosophical Daoism.  The primary goal of practitioners of Zen Buddhism is to transcend all limitations and dualities, including oneness or any concept of oneness (which is dualistic because it is exclusive of diversity or many-ness).  In principle, it is amoral, and only considers morality valuable if it aids one in practicing meditation and the other traditional practices of Zen.   

At the same time, it really is part of Buddhism, so it also (again, in principle) accepts the traditional cosmology of Buddhism, including its idea of continuous rebirth in the six realms of existence until awakening or buddhahood is realized.  That Zen Buddhists have historically been more likely to interpret these teachings nonliterally than other Buddhists (again, “more likely” – many, and probably even most Chan and Zen Buddhists historically interpreted these teachings literally, but that has changed in the last century, as it has for many “modernist” Buddhists in Asia and the West) does not negate the fact that they have been present in Zen Buddhism, as they are present in some of the Mahayana sutras upon which Zen Buddhism is based, such as the Lankavatara Sutra.   

In addition, Zen Buddhism is a Mahayana tradition, meaning it regards the bodhisattva, or the one who aspires to full buddhahood out of compassion for all sentient beings (the basis of this aspiration is known as bodhicitta, or the mind of awakening), as the ideal which all sentient beings should seek.  (Heinrich Dumoulin, a Catholic priest, made this point most forcefully in his book Zen Buddhism: A History, India & China (Volume 1) - not to be confused with Dumoulin's earlier edition of this work called A History of Zen Buddhism, which has Catholic triumphalist claims that are utterly inappropriate in a scholarly work on the history of a religion, even if they would not be objectionable in an apologetic work - fortunately, Dumoulin changed his approach for later editions.)

Zen Buddhism excels in its methodology.  Zazen, especially the form of it known as shikantaza (which is the practice of “just sitting” with the mind both fully alert and relaxed, without the aid of counting the breath or any other “crutch,” and is extremely difficult - Kapleau's Three Pillars of Zen, pp. 60-62, provides an excellent description of this practice), for those capable of it, as well as contemplation of a koan, are very effective means (at least for those who rigorously practice them for many years) for freeing the mind from its habitual tendency to set up dualities between likes and dislikes, and thus awakening a person to his or her original nature.  

To clarify, real Zen has the power to do this.  Armchair Zen, or the practice of sitting around discussing the “Zen of” every topic under the sun, or of identifying states of great joy or even occasional feelings of oneness with nature with Zen, while perhaps warranting nothing more than a light smile (and certainly not any kind of self-righteous condemnation), does not have the power to liberate the mind from all dualities, or, more accurately, to introduce a person to his or her original nature, to who he or she has always been but has not recognized before due to attachment to various likes and dislikes.  One does not need to remove these attachments; rather one only needs to recognize the buddha-nature of the mind, and upon the realization of this, likes and dislikes, which are lacking in any intrinsic existence or essential nature, will vanish of their own accord.  Still, it is better, at all stages of practice, to have as few attachments as possible, which I suspect is the rationale for the strict discipline of Zen monasteries historically.

The principal goal of Zen Buddhism, and specifically of the practice of zazen, is the realization or recognition of one’s true nature, of seeing into one’s mind and recognizing that one has always been a buddha, though one has not realized it before.  This is awakening or bodhi (the most complete form of which is known as anuttara-samyak-sambodhi), and it is known in Japanese as kensho or satori (the latter being a “deeper” realization of one’s buddha-nature than the former - see The Three Pillars of Zen, p. 409).   

The goal of Zen Buddhism is not just to experience kensho or satori once, but to constantly remain in that state no matter what other activities one engages in on a daily basis (The Three Pillars of Zen, pp. 53-56).  This actualization of one’s intrinsic buddhahood in all situations is known in Japanese as mujodo no taigen (Ibid.).  As an initial matter, the Zen Buddhist disciple must learn to concentrate the mind one-pointedly (this is called joriki in Japanese), keeping out all external distractions or attachments (Ibid.).  This type of concentration takes time to learn for almost all people, but it is just the first step in the process of awakening.  Although awakening occurs “instantaneously” when it happens, it takes several years of training before most people get to the point where they can actually have this “instantaneous” experience of awakening. 

On the negative side, Zen Buddhism has a tendency to become excessively anti-intellectual, much as many other traditions (such as Advaita Vedanta) have a tendency to become overly-intellectual.  Unfortunately, it often happens that Zen Buddhists teach metaphysical doctrines, whether explicitly or implicitly, but immediately criticize others those who rationally examine or proclaim metaphysical doctrines (many of those who claim to follow the Advaitin sage Ramana Maharshi do the same thing).   

The problematic nature of this situation can best be addressed by accepting that on one level (let us call it that of the seeker, or one who is uncertain about the nature and goal of existence and is looking for answers) it is appropriate to analyze and evaluate any teachings, including the teachings of Zen Buddhism, to determine consistency, sensibility, and practicality, while on another level (let us call it that of the practitioner, or one who is committed to a particular tradition based on what he or she believes to be the certain, probable, or even possible nature and goal of existence), it is best, to put it bluntly, to shut up and practice what the tradition teaches so that one can make some real progress.   

This, of course, applies to all traditions, not just Zen Buddhism, but it seems particularly relevant to Zen Buddhism, since Zen (the “Buddhism” part is often dropped from its name in Western discourse, even though in its origins and in East Asia to this day it is plainly and explicitly a Buddhist tradition) is usually understood in the Modern West as D.T. Suzuki’s “wafting cloud,” that is, as beyond all concepts and speculation, and possible for any person to realize immediately, in the here and now, without years of dedicated practice under a qualified Zen Buddhist master.  (Of course, in theory Zen Buddhism teaches and has historically taught that it is possible to realize one’s true nature, to instantly recognize one’s intrinsic buddhahood at any time, but in practice very few people have ever realized their intrinsic buddhahood without first engaging in years of dedicated practice in zazen, the contemplation of koans, or both.)

RECOMMENDED READING:

The Three Pillars of Zen, by Philip Kapleau Roshi.  This is easily the best book on Zen Buddhism in the English language, as famous scholar of religion Huston Smith claimed.  I recommend it for those who wish to practice Zen Buddhism.  It gives some historical information about Zen Buddhism, but its emphasis is on the actual practice of Zen Buddhism.  

Zen Buddhism: A History, Volume 1 and Zen Buddhism: A History, Volume 2, by Heinrich Dumoulin.  These books describe Zen Buddhism and its historical development in the context of Mahayana Buddhism and the discourses (or sutras) that the Mahayana attributes to the historical Buddha, Siddhartha Gautama or Shakyamuni.  The first edition, A History of Zen Buddhism, is less a scholarly work than a work of Catholic triumphalism, so is not the best resource for those who wish to learn about Zen Buddhism.  

Dogen's Manuals of Zen Meditation, by Zen Master Dogen, translated by Carl Bielefeldt.  These are comprehensive manuals of meditation by perhaps Zen Buddhism's greatest master, Dogen.  Most Zen masters have held that one should study under a living master, but these are probably the best instructions on meditation or anybody who wants to try to practice on their own (which is very difficult to do).  

Shobogenzo, by Zen Master Dogen.  This is a very advanced philosophical and theoretical text by arguably the greatest Zen master, Dogen.  It is for very serious students of Buddhism or comparative philosophy.  

Platform Sutra of the Sixth Patriarch, translated by Red Pine.  This is probably the greatest theoretical introduction to Zen Buddhism, and it explains almost all of the theoretical foundations of the varieties of Zen Buddhism that have flourished in East Asia for over a thousand years.  

Manual of Zen Buddhism, with works translated by D.T. Suzuki.  This is Suzuki's greatest book, since it translates many of the texts that are and have long been central to Zen Buddhism.  Here, Zen Buddhism is not presented as a "wafting cloud in the sky," but as a tradition with a history, including texts it regards as significant.  

Zen and Western Thought, by Masao Abe.  I find Masao Abe's philosophical musings on Zen Buddhism, and his comparisons between Zen Buddhism and Western Philosophy, to be thought-provoking, but this is not the best place to start in learning about the practice, theory, or history of Zen Buddhism.
 
An Introduction to Zen Buddhism and Essays in Zen Buddhism by D.T. Suzuki.  In my opinion, the works of D.T. Suzuki are not a good place to start in learning about Zen Buddhism, especially not the practice or the history thereof.  Nonetheless, his works are philosophically engaging at times, and need not be dismissed wholesale.  

For Western accounts of the Zen monastic experience, see The Empty Mirror by Janwillem van de Wetering and The Zen Monastic Experience by Robert Buswell.

For information about the social aspects of Zen Buddhism and other aspects of it that have not been historically emphasized in the West, see Soto Zen in Medieval Japan by William Bodiford and The Other Side of Zen by Duncan Ryuken Williams.

Spiritual Alternative # 2: Advaita Vedanta / Smarta Denomination of Hinduism

Advaita Vedanta was systematized by the eighth-ninth century philosopher/theologian Shankara or Shankaracharya.  Based primarily on the Upanishads, Bhagavad Gita, and Brahma Sutras (all old Hindu texts), it holds that the deepest nature or Self (Atman) of every sentient being is ultimately identical to the Divine Ground of Being (Brahman).  While the Atman-Brahman cannot be literally or directly described, by analogy it is called Sat-Chit-Ananda, or Being/Truth-Consciousness/Awareness-Bliss. 

Sentient beings, however, are ignorant of Atman-Brahman, identifying instead with the five sheaths or coverings that obscure the Atman, as well as with the body, the impermanent aspects of consciousness, i.e. the sense of self-identity or ego, the sense of inwardness or “mind’s eye” or simply mind, the five sense-determinant factors of the mind, and even the most lucid aspect of the mind, the intellect (which is not simply the reasoning faculty, but the faculty that is aware of that which transcends itself, Atman-Brahman and the causal plane).  

Sentient beings identify with these lesser or unreal entities because of ignorance (or avidya), which is produced by Maya, or the power of illusion that produces the world and all that is made manifest within it.  The primal principle of manifestation or nature is known as Prakriti, and is considered the source of not only the body, but the intellect, ego, and inward sense or mind as well.  Atman-Brahman is the Witness or Observer of all that happens in all three states of being: the waking, dreaming, and deep dreamless sleep states.  However, it is beyond all three, in what Advaitins simply call the fourth state (or turiya), which is pure consciousness.    

There are three planes on which activity occurs: the gross or physical, the astral or subtle, and the causal.  The physical plane is the plane in which living beings and inanimate matter exist.  The astral plane is the home of devas (which are like the angels of the Abrahamic traditions), demigods, demons, ghosts, and other spirit-entities.  The causal plane is the plane on which Brahman acts as Ishvara, which is Brahman’s personal manifestation, or manifestation with attributes (Saguna, as opposed to the Nirguna or attributeless nature of the Supreme Atman-Brahman).   Ishvara causes the world to come into existence through the power of maya.

Atman-Brahman is known through contemplation, specifically through contemplation of the Self, or inquiry into the question, “Who am I?” (this is the practice advocated by twentieth-century saint Ramana Maharshi, but it is also the central contemplative question of Advaita Vedanta generally).   Devotion to a personal god (in the Smarta tradition, one can choose devotion to Shiva, Devi or the Goddess, Ganesha, Vishnu and his ten avataras, Surya, or even another deity of one’s choice – all of these are regarded as aspects or manifestations of Ishvara or Saguna Brahman), Raja Yoga (which will be discussed in greater detail in another post), and karma yoga, while helpful, do not lead to liberation (moksha).  Only contemplation (or jnana yoga) leads to liberation.   

There are at least three levels of higher consciousness: the jiva or soul which wanders through the planes of existence from lifetime to lifetime based on the wholesomeness or harmfulness of actions in those lifetimes (a process known as samsara), the “lower” Atman-Brahman which is the observer separate from and beyond phenomena (and in relation to which all phenomena are illusory or non-existent), and the “supreme” Atman-Brahman, which is beyond all dualities, even those between subject and object and Atman-Brahman and maya or phenomena.

From the point of view of the supreme Atman-Brahman and those who have realized their true nature as Atman-Brahman, the world appears as lila, or divine play, but from the point of view of worldly existence and the soul caught in the endless cycle of death and rebirth, it is a place of suffering (as Buddhism teaches), and is, strictly speaking, unreal in relation to the infinite reality of Atman-Brahman. 

Technically speaking, Advaita Vedanta concerns itself with morality only insofar as morality pertains to liberation from samsara.  However, liberation is not easy, and so it requires a great amount of self-discipline.  Traditionally, the main practitioners of Advaita Vedanta have been ascetic mendicants.  There are now far more lay practitioners who fully engage with the tradition’s teachings and practices than there used to be, but strict self-discipline is still the norm.  Historically, the varnashrama system has been accepted as valid, as well.

In many ways, Advaita Vedanta is the most complete and elegant system of spiritual philosophy ever constructed.  Its explanations are terse (at least by metaphysical standards), yet simple (again, by metaphysical standards), as are its practices.  On the other hand, it is quite ascetic, and accepts the law of karma and samsara as facts, despite a lack of convincing evidence for the existence of either.  Thus, it has limitations that some other traditions (particularly Philosophical Daoism) do not have, in my opinion.  Yet its thoroughness, the relative simplicity of its spiritual philosophy and exercises, and its frankness about the limitations of mundane existence and the importance of lifting the veil of ignorance that causes people to misidentify with things witnessed rather than knowing themselves as the Self that is the Witness, make it one of the most profound spiritual traditions.

RECOMMENDED READING:

Upanishads, translated by Patrick Olivelle.  This is a translation of the twelve principal Upanishads, the ultimate basis of all six major sub-schools of Vedanta.  (According to Hindu tradition, there are 108 altogether.) 

Bhagavad Gita, translated by Barbara Stoller Miller; and a version of the Gita in Devanagari, transliterated Sanskrit, and English, translated by Winthrop Sargeant.  This text is certainly not exclusive to Advaita Vedanta.  It is a central text of Vaishnavism (and the sub-schools of Vedanta affiliated with it, which is all except Advaita), particularly the forms of Vaishnavism where Vishnu's avatara (or incarnation) Krishna is the primary object of devotion.  However, it is important in Advaita Vedanta as well.

Brahma Sutras, translated by Swami Sivananda.  These aphorisms are a systematic exegesis of the teachings of the Upanishads, and are the direct basis of all six major sub-schools of Vedanta.

Man and His Becoming According to the Vedanta, by Rene Guenon.  Guenon was a traditionalist and perennialist, as well as a Western convert to Islam, specifically its mystical tradition, Sufism, but this book makes it abundantly clear that he was very familiar with the teachings of Vedanta.  This is a great book, but it is not an easy read.

Advaita Vedanta: A Philosophical Introduction, by Eliot Deutsch.  This book is very succinct.

Shankara's Crest-Jewel of Discrimination, translated by Swami Prabhavananda and Christopher Isherwood.  This is a simple introduction to the teachings of Advaita Vedanta by its greatest exponent.  

Atmabodha (or Self-Knowledge), by Shankaracharya, translated by Swami Nikhilananda.  This is a detailed overview of contemplation of the Self leading to liberating knowledge.  Highly recommended.

"A Brief Overview of Vedanta," at the Vedanta Society of Southern California website.  This provides solid basic information about the teachings of Advaita Vedanta.  

"Who Am I?" by Sri Ramana Maharshi, a great Hindu sage of the twentieth century.  For a more detailed understanding of his teachings, see his Talks.  While not technically an initiate into one of the monastic orders founded by Shankaracharya, his teachings get at the heart of what Advaita Vedanta teaches is the goal of all living beings: liberation through knowledge of the nature of the Self and the identity of the Self with the Divine Ground of Being.

Spiritual Alternative # 1: Philosophical Daoism

(NOTES: This post may cover some of the same ground as my earlier post about Philosophical Daoism.  Also, when I italicize Zhuangzi or Liezi, it refers to the book known by this name, while when I do not italicize Zhuangzi, it refers to the historical person who wrote at least the first seven chapters of the book that bears his name, and when I do not italicize Liezi it refers to the historical author of the book of the same name.)

The central practice (or non-practice) of Philosophical Daoism is wuwei, a term which literally means doing nothing.  In practice, wuwei, as best as I can describe it, consists of not thinking, not trying, and not being.  It is spontaneity in all situations.  It is not mere laziness, however.  One who lives a life of wuwei still acts in the world, but "does not by his likings and dislikings do any inward harm to his body - he always pursues his course without effort, and does not try to increase his store of life" (Zhuangzi Chapter 5, Section 6).  However, it is not possible to engage in the practice (more correctly, the non-practice) of wuwei (at least consistently) without first training the mind to be calm, collected, and detached from all mental objects.  This is where meditation comes into play.  

Philosophical Daoist meditation, at least from what the Zhuangzi indicates, incorporates practices known from South Asian traditions like breath control (in Chapter 6, Zhuangzi writes "[the] breathing [of the sages or true men/true people of old] came deep and silently. The breathing of the true man [true person] comes even from his heels, while men [people] generally breathe only from their throats"); concentration of the mind, withdrawal from attachment to the world, overcoming one's exclusive identity with one's sense of separate self-identity or ego, and transcending the opposing dualities of past and present and life and death (described in Chapter 6, Section 4); and mindfulness or awareness, or simply allowing the mind to reflect whatever arises (described as follows in Chapter 7, Section 6: "When the perfect man [perfect person - men and women can both do this] employs his mind, it is a mirror.  It conducts nothing and anticipates nothing; it responds to what is before it, but does not retain it").  This concept of using the mind as a mirror or understanding the mind as a mirror can also be found in certain Buddhist traditions, particularly in the Chan/Zen tradition (it appears in verses from the sixth patriarch Huineng, which are some of the most famous in the history of Zen Buddhism).

Philosophical Daoist meditation, at least the type described in the Zhuangzi, also features the practice of trying to snap the mind out of its ordinary modes of cognition through paradox (see this passage from Chapter 2 of the Zhuangzi, for example), turning logic against itself (much of Chapter 2 is dedicated to this), wondrous anecdotes (such as the opening passage of Chapter 1 and the very famous "Butterfly Dream" at the end of Chapter 2), and profound but unconventional ideas (which are almost, but not quite, antinomian).  In these respects Philosophical Daoism is similar to Chan or Zen Buddhism and the koans or paradoxical statements and stories of the latter.  This is no accident, as Philosophical Daoism exerted a major influence on the Chan tradition when it was developing in China.   

Besides these meditation practices and wuwei, Philosophical Daoism encourages people not to seek fame or merit, to not get involved with politics (Zhuangzi taught this during a turbulent time of political turmoil, while Laozi was expressly concerned with politics - one of the main purposes of the latter in the Daodejing was to provide counsel on the best way to rule a country), and to not worry about the conventional moral notions taught by the likes of Confucius and Mozi.    

The Zhuangzi excels at presenting evocative stories and ideas that question conventional wisdom and jolt the mind into a state of greater awareness and lucidity.  Daoism takes non-duality to the limit (meaning it is fully, rather than only partially non-dual), as its non-duality applies to all facets of existence, and does not even accept conventional or antinomian ideas as valid in a qualified way.  It is thus the most profound of all traditions, and its sages, particularly Zhuangzi, are, in my opinion, the wisest people in human history. 

There is one area in which the Philosophical Daoism is not quite as strong as other traditions.  Overall, the three major texts of the tradition lack a systematic methodology for realizing the Dao, or the unknown and unknowable (through conventional means, anyway) source of all things.  The texts (especially the Zhuangzi) have some passages that describe various helpful practices, like those mentioned above, but they do not present them systematically.  Nonetheless, I think that it is possible to construct a basic methodology based on what the Zhuangzi teaches.

In addition to the teachings mentioned above, Zhuangzi taught that "if a man [or woman] follows the mind given him [or her] and makes it his [or her] teacher, then who can be without a teacher? . . . .  [T]o fail to abide by this mind and still insist upon your rights and wrongs . . . is to claim that what doesn't exist exists."  (Complete Works of Chuang Tzu, tr. Burton Watson, Chapter 2, pp. 38-39).  I interpret this passage as encouraging people to discover wisdom and enlightenment on their own, since it is immediately available in the mind of every person.  One can realize the Dao without relying on an external guru or teacher, and in fact, an external guru or teacher is wholly unnecessary.  This teaching is at odds with the teachings of Chan/Zen Buddhism, which emphasizes the importance of having a master; Advaita Vedanta, which (apart from Ramana Maharshi, at least, who was technically never initiated into any traditional lineage) emphasizes the importance of having a living guru; the tantric traditions teach that it is dangerous to practice tantric rituals and meditation without the aid of a qualified guru (although the tantric traditions, as well as most other traditions that teach the necessity of having a guru or master, never seem to recognize the dangers of giving individuals as much power over others as gurus and masters ordinarily have over their disciples); and many other traditions as well, including Sufism and the Western esoteric traditions (such as Hermeticism and Freemasonry), as well as the two major organized forms of Daoism, Quanzhen and Tianshi Dao (these are not the only two organized forms of Daoism historically, but they have had the most influence in Chinese history), teach that it is necessary to have a guru or master in order to advance spiritually.  

I want to clear something up before moving on.  I am a Philosophical Daoist.  I consider myself a student of Philosophical Daoism above all other traditions.  I am a student of the Zhuangzi above all, but I greatly respect the Daodejing and Liehzi as well.  Sometimes, I prefer not to identify myself as a Daoist at all, because in my opinion the organized traditions of Daoism such as Quanzhen and Tianshi Dao have virtually nothing in common with the teachings of these three great texts, and I do not wish to be associated with those organized traditions in any way.  I am a student of the Lao-Zhuang (or, as I would call it, the Zhuang-Lao) school of philosophy, whatever one may wish to call it.  The distinction between Philosophical Daoism and Organized or Religious Daoism is not the creation of modern Western scholars.  The distinction was originally drawn by Han Chinese historians about 2,000 years ago, as Daojia and Daojiao.  The former refers to the school of philosophy associated with Laozi, Zhuangzi, and Liezi, while the latter refers to organized traditions like Tianshi Dao.  I identify myself with the former, not the latter, and I believe that they should be regarded as separate traditions altogether.  Chinese popular religion or "folk religion" is, in turn, different than both Philosophical Daoism and Organized Daoism, as it incorporates at least as many elements from Confucianism, Buddhism, and the indigenous pre-literate traditions of what is now China as it does from Philosophical Daoism and Organized Daoism.

The Quanzhen, or Complete Reality/Truth school of Daoism, has useful meditative and internal-alchemical techniques, but unfortunately (from a Philosophical Daoist perspective) this school has embraced much of Buddhist and Confucian morality (including a large part of the vinaya or monastic code of the former and most of the social morality of the latter, both of which Laozi, Zhuangzi, and Liezi would have rejected), and so is far less compatible with Philosophical Daoism than many of the schools of other traditions (such as Chan/Zen Buddhism) (see Livia Kohn, Daoism and Chinese Culture, pp. 160-162, available at the link provided, for details on the Quanzhen school's moral code).  This is so because Philosophical Daoism explicitly rejects moralism like that which Confucianism and Buddhism (with the exception of Chan/Zen, at least in some cases, and some forms of Vajrayana Buddhism) proffer as wisdom and truth.   

The Tianshi Dao, or Heavenly Teachers school of Daoism, has elaborate magical rituals and has historically featured the rigorous observance of moral precepts (see Kohn, pp. 72-73), but has almost nothing in common with Philosophical Daoism other than the term Dao and ritual observances involving Laozi and the Daodejing (as far as I can tell).  In the Tianshi Dao, Laozi is deified, and so has little in common with the purported author of the Daodejing, who was simply a wise old man, not an immortal being.  Furthermore, the use of the term Dao does not automatically create common ground with Laozi, Zhuangzi, or Liezi, as the term Dao is not even exclusive to Daoism.  (For example, Confucius and Confucians have historically used the term Dao to refer to the universal moral law they believe in, and C.S. Lewis used it [and spelled it Tao, based on the then-prevalent Wade-Giles system of transliteration] for his own purposes in this sense in his book The Abolition of Man, but most emphatically not in the Philosophical Daoist sense). 

The Dao known to the Philosophical Daoists, and particularly to the greatest of them, Zhuangzi, is beyond all dualities, including all value judgments.  It is beyond good and evil, which are relative categories made up by human beings based on putting too much stock in arbitrary preferences (which vary from species to species, culture to culture, and person to person – and thus have no universal validity).  One must transcend the duality between good and evil, as well as the dualities between truth and falsehood and life and death, in order to realize the Dao.  (Many people will scoff at the idea of going beyond good and evil, and will question the practicality and wisdom of transcending the distinction between life and death, but only those who do these things can ever experience the infinite freedom of the Dao.)

This does not mean that one should embrace antinomian morality as opposed to conventional morality.  Rather, both types of value systems are based on arbitrary notions of good and evil that must be transcended in order to gain authentic wisdom and sagehood.  Wisdom and sagehood exist in potential form in all people, but can only be realized by knowing the Dao, which is not known by those caught up in duality, whether that duality is moralistic, metaphysical, epistemological, physical, aesthetic, or any other variety.  

Those caught up in duality have, at best, a highly limited form of wisdom that applies only to very limited worldly situations.  Their wisdom, if they can be said to have any, is represented by the quail, cicada, and dove in the opening passage of the first chapter of the Zhuangzi, as opposed to the limitless wisdom of the Perfect Man (i.e., Perfect Person) / Sage / Holy Man (i.e., Holy Person), whose authentic wisdom is represented by the Peng bird, or Roc, in this passage.  That passage can be accessed here.

Sometimes Philosophical Daoism, and especially the Zhuangzi, is considered a foray into relativism or an example of skepticism in Chinese philosophy.  While the three major texts of Philosophical Daoism can all be read this way (the Daodejing can also be read as Rousseauian romanticism or simple nature mysticism, while the Liezi is plainly hedonistic in spots), I believe that all three are attempts to describe the way the world is experienced by those who have become in tune with the Dao, who have recognized the Dao that cannot be told and live in total awareness of the Dao at all times.  The Dao is ultimately indescribable, but the Zhuangzi (along with the other two texts to a lesser degree) successfully describes the way the world is experienced by those who have realized the Dao.  In my opinion, that is the primary purpose of the text (and the other two mentioned), although like everything related to the Zhuangzi and the other two major texts of Philosophical Daoism, that is up for debate.

RECOMMENDED READING:

The Complete Works of Chuang Tzu, translated by Burton Watson (the most famous and popular translation of the Zhuangzi into English, and my personal favorite).

A shortened version of the above, Chuang Tzu: Basic Writings, has almost all of the best (or most popular) chapters of the text.

One can find an English translation of the Zhuangzi with Chinese characters at http://ctext.org/zhuangzi.  

My favorite English translation of the Daodejing is the translation by Stephen Addiss and Stanley Lombardo.  It balances the lyrical nature of the text with a serious scholarly attention to the difficult task of translating ancient Chinese into modern English. 

Another famous English translation of the Daodejing is by D.C. Lau.

Stephen Mitchell also has a translation of the Daodejing that many people like.  It is less literal (in fact it takes great liberties with the original text in spots), but generally captures the brilliance of the original, and flows better than many other translations.

A.C. Graham's translation of the Liezi is the most well-known English translation of that book.   

Finally, Livia Kohn's Daoism and Chinese Culture does a great job situating these texts in the context of Chinese history and Daoist religious, alchemical, magical, divinatory, monastic, and self-cultivation traditions, and provides an informative overview of those traditions.