The threat of the dakini & challenge of the vira

Vajra romance, gender dynamics, and developmental stage transitions

Image courtesy Erik Mclean

I realized only after assembling my list of seven true romance stories that every one of them is about a witch. Weird! What does this mean? About me? About transformational romance?

According to scripture, the religious system tantra was given to Buddhists by dakinis. “Dakini” originally meant “black magic witch” in Sanskrit, and sometimes still does. Dakinis may be supernatural or human. They can be terrifying or alluring; malignant or helpful. They are described as executioners and cannibals, and also as the source of all delight and wisdom.¹

This post is a sequel to “Unavailable dakini catalyst.” Read that first!

The erotic union of form and emptiness

“Tantric Buddhism” is roughly synonymous with “Vajrayana.” Fundamentally, that is about the play of form and emptiness. “Form” means the same as in English; “emptiness” doesn’t. I translate it as “nebulosity.”

Tantra is described as “the path of transformation.” That includes changes of form, as preliminary methods. The aim, though, is a change of relationship with form. You recognize that all forms are also “empty”: insubstantial, impermanent, interwoven, intermittent, indefinite.²

That particularly includes the form of you. Some Buddhisms claim that your self is non-existent. Vajrayana denies that. Rather, selves are empty; nebulous. The path dis-identifies you from the form of your self, so you recognize it as insubstantial, impermanent, interwoven, intermittent, indefinite. And yet there is still form. You are unique. You preserve formness, but relativize it as nebulous things you do, not a solid entity you are.

The stage 4 to 5 transition process closely resembles the path of tantra, at this level of abstraction.³ Do you remember the discussion of “surrendering identification with the form” from the previous post?

Sexual and gender symbolism pervade Vajrayana. Form is masculine; emptiness is feminine. The union of form and emptiness, in sexual play, is enlightenment. This may be literal (in “tantric sex”), or (more often) metaphorical. The simultaneous perception of emptiness and form is transcendent timeless bliss.

Robert Kegan unknowingly echoed tantric symbolism in discussing relational stage 5:⁴

The choices for adulthood need not be between a form of intimacy at the expense of identity [stage 3], or an identity at the expense of intimacy [stage 4]. Although the classic Freudian identification of intimacy with mutuality of orgasm has a depressingly humorless ring to it, there is something at least symbolically powerful about the image of at once satisfying oneself (not subordinating one’s pleasure to the other’s) while at the same time transcending, in resplendent play, the isolation of our separateness, our polarity, our time-embeddedness.

Dakinis’ ferocious magical power makes them untamable by men. They are unavailable for formal relationship.

The counterpart to “dakini” is vira, meaning “noble warrior.”⁵ The barbarian warrior prince’s all-conquering prowess makes him untamable by women. He is unavailable for conventional relationship.

Image courtesy Ramon Karolan

Vajrayana advice on romance describes the dakini, embodying emptiness, as a threat to form. The vira, embodying form, is a challenge to emptiness.⁶

• Like Circe, the dakini’s magical power trans-forms anyone who attempts to relate to her. Her fluid meta-rational understanding executes the death sentence on rigid rationalist formalism. She cannibalizes the corpse of a lover’s systematic self-identification. She gives renewed birth to him as a cheerful, kind, useful monster.

• The vira does not respect sloppiness, emotional incontinence, vacillation, lack of principle, evasiveness, manipulation, or conformity when used to avoid conflict. He will not take a girl-child seriously. If you want to ride with the prince, you must grow up and take your own form as a powerful, distinct individual. Stand your ground in battle, and master the forms of equestrianism and sword-play.

Vajra romance, stage theory, and the split in feminism

Vajrayana bridges the inspiration of the mythical realm and the practicality of the actual world. It unites them with practices of view: ways of seeing the everyday as magical.

An extraordinary unavailable person may seem mythic, almost supernatural:

The practice of vajra romance is to view your human partner as a supernatural dakini or vira. You actively seek her threat to your rigid formal identity; or his challenge to your chaotic, unformed lack of a coherent self.

This fits neatly with stage theory. If you are at stage 3, personal growth through relationship requires growing a solid, enduring, separate, consistent, defined self.⁷ If you are at stage 4, personal growth through relationship means allowing continuous transformation through repeated death of what you thought you were.

The vajra romance practice does not involve deliberately threatening or challenging your lover. If you are at stage 4, simply being as you are is a challenge to anyone at stage 3. If you are at stage 5, simply being as you are is a threat to anyone at stage 4. (Do you see why?)

An obvious objection is that this offers a method for heterosexual women to transition to stage 4, and for heterosexual men to transition to stage 5, but not vice versa. This is awkward!

However, it rhymes with a 1970s empirical discovery in adult development research. Psychometric testing found many more men than women in stage 4. The misunderstanding that “a higher stage number means you are a better person” suggests an invidious comparison of the moral worth of women and men. This was, naturally, offensive to feminists.

The resulting political conflict ended adult developmental stage theory as a scientific field. It also irreparably split the women’s movement. Should it aim for formal equality of the sexes, or demand accomodations sensitive to profound differences between them? (I explain this in “Liota,” as a keystone in the formal structure of our rational romance.) We’re all still suffering consequences of that rupture.

The impasse can be resolved by recognizing that men and women can both manifest all human qualities, and that most men more often manifest those typically considered masculine, and most women more often manifest those typically considered feminine.

The qualities of stage 4 include ones typically considered masculine. The transition from 3 to 4 is typically easier for men than women. Many women do make that transition, nevertheless!

It may be easier for many women to make the initial relational transition in the domain of intimate relationships. The practice of viewing one’s partner as a vira may help. Admire his consistency, fortitude, and mastery of methods. Seeing the benefits those bring may inspire a woman to overcome her reluctance to “act like a guy.”

It may be easier for many men to make the relational 3-to-4 transition in the domain of work first. Relating with a powerful man often enables that transition too: your respected superior and leader in a legitimate hierarchy of authority. Archetypally: your liege lord, the noble vira.

Nevertheless, it is possible for men to make the relational stage transition in the domain of romance. “Liota” is subtitled “the challenge of a lesbian feminist sadomasochist witch” because she modeled stage 4 relating for me. I had to grow up and get strong to meet her there. It’s probably not coincidental that Liota was quite butch. She might now be called “non-binary,” although that concept hadn’t been invented yet. A witch and a warrior.

Image courtesy Ahmet Mert

Tantric symbolism is exclusively heterosexual. Vajra romance is possible for same-sex couples nonetheless, because both men and women can manifest both masculine and feminine characteristics. Both partners can view the other as a witch, or as a warrior, or as both at different times, according to circumstances.

This is also possible for heterosexual people! It may be less comfortable; but discomfort is intrinsically necessary to the functioning of both Vajrayana and stage transitions.

I suspect the 4-to-5 transition is typically more difficult for men than for women. That may make relating with an unavailable dakini—a fascinating, mysterious woman you can’t get—a particularly valuable catalyst for men. Expect beheading. “Today is a good day to die.” Admire her mercurial responsiveness, access to archetypes, and primordial wisdom. This may inspire a man to overcome his reluctance to set aside justification, “get in touch with his deeper self,” and act spontaneously.

This series is titled “Unavailable dakini catalyst” because each story is from the point of view of a man in relationship with a woman. The dynamic is more likely that way around.⁸

However, a romance with a stage 5 man might also enable a woman’s transition from stage 4. Archetypally, he may be a sorcerer, rather than a prince. His accomplishments are famed. Outwardly, he seems merely perky; kindly and vague, or even meek. But occasionally, his actions are outrageous. The results are dramatic, but their source is inscrutable, with no apparent causal logic.⁹

The Four Dignities. Artwork by Proper_Ad2822

1. I wrote a short post explaining dakinis here. In my series of transformational romance stories, “The princess” has much more to say about dakinis’ traditional roles in both religion and romance. Dakinis also feature in my unfinished tantric vampire romance novel.

2. These five adjectives describe the five elemental qualities of emptiness in Vajrayana theory.

3. Stage 5 resembles dzogchen, the recognition that emptiness and form never were separated.

4. The Evolving Self, p. 253. Kegan was entirely uninfluenced by Buddhism, as far as I have been able to determine. I think this convergence of two schools of thought, from radically separated regions, cultures, historical periods, and disciplines gives somewhat greater credibility to both.

5. “Vira” is etymologically cognate with the English “virile.” Some texts instead use daka as the masculine counterpart to dakini. The Tibetan equivalent for “dakini” is khandro, translated “sky-dancer.” Pawo, literally “brave guy,” is the Tibetan equivalent to vira. The term pamo, the grammatically feminine equivalent, plays a role in the story “Rin’dzin.”

6. Vajra romance is the topic of Entering the Heart of the Sun & Moon by Ngakpa Chögyam and Khandro Déchen. They discuss threat and challenge particularly on pp. 175–6, but the whole book is relevant.

7. These five adjectives correspond to the five elemental qualities of form in Vajrayana theory.

8. And partly because I’m a character in most of them, and I’m mostly heterosexual.

9. Meek, perky, outrageous, and inscrutable are the “four dignities of the warrior” in Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche’s Shambhala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior, and before that in the Gésar terma of Jamgon Mipham. The illustration symbolizes them as a tiger, snow lion, garuda, and dragon. In this post, I’ve attributed these qualities to the sorcerer archetype rather than the warrior. Gésar was both. I believe there’s an important practical lesson here. You need to master warriorship before you can use sorcery accurately and effectively. In other words, you need to consolidate stage 4 before moving into stage 5. Put another way, capacity for systematic rationality is a prerequisite to effective meta-rationality. Too many people try to skip stage 4, because stage 5 sounds more impressive and exciting. This is where woo-meisters come from. Their activity is ineffective or harmful because it does not take into account pragmatic actuality.