In the Cathedral of Saint Paul in London, (the latter version designed by Sir Christopher Wren in 1667) were set, in the recesses formed by the arches linking the cardinal openings of the cross structure of the church, four statues celebrating ideals of human achievement. They were respectively Sir Joshua Reynolds for art, Dr. Johnson for literature, John Howard for his justly famous prison reforms, and Sir William Jones for scholarship and the law. The last was also the founder of the Asiatic Society and did more to unearth and make known ancient India to the West than practically any man then or since. In recognition of that singular achievement, the plinth of his statue has the personification of the Wisdom of India represented on it. With her right arm she enfolds the Hindu Trinity. It is what the left hand of the Wisdom of India supports that is astounding. Its a representation of the Churning of the Cosmic Ocean with Vishnu present both on top of the mountain, used as the churning stick, as well as at the base of the mountain, in his incarnation as a turtle. Inscribed on the side of the disc in the carving is the name of this incarnation 'Coorma Avatar'. It is the most astonishing place to find one of the oldest and perhaps the widest known Hindu myth, a sweep across the planet from the Cambodian temples of Angkor Vat to Saint Paul's Cathedral.
The Coorma Avatar is a small part of the larger story of the churning of the Cosmic Ocean, perhaps the most popular mythical story in all Hinduism that is not directly connected to the great epics. So many significant episodes in the development of the tales of the gods are crowded into this one episode that it is certainly a work that developed over large periods of time. Almost every major mythical theme beloved of India has been played out in its telling. All the gods are there, and all the demons too. As usual, Evil is threatening to overwhelm the universe and as usual, Vishnu the Trickster has to step in and pull the divinities' fat out of the fire. The story begins even earlier than the second incarnation of Vishnu that it formally purports to describe. As described in the story of "How the gods cheated death" in our myths section, the gods were not originally immortal. They were capable of coming back to life using the technique of Sanjivani, but that was not any great advantage, as the demons knew the technique too. Over time the balance of power constantly shifts between the two poles of good and evil, and Vishnu incarnates again and again to maintain the Balance of the Cosmos.
When this story begins, the king of the gods, Indra, has just incurred the curse of an angry sage, Durvasa, for disrespecting his gift of a never fading garland. It was not one of these earthshaking curses sages were so fond of, but one laced with subtle malice. For the gods found that their faculties and abilities were slowly deserting them, they were in decline both physical and mental. They could still hold their own against the demon hordes, but the writing was clearly on the wall for anybody who had eyes to see. In panic they approached Brahma, the Creator God, who advised them to seek out the help of Vishnu. This first contact with Brahma is a remnant of the older versions of the tale where he, and not Vishnu, assumes the form of the Coorma or turtle. Vishnu realizes that the gods will not be able to subsist on Sanjivani alone any longer, for each time they are brought back to life they return in their rapidly enfeebled condition. They need to be rejuvenated, as well as put out of the reach of permanent harm attempted by the demons. There was only one solution - Amritha, the Nectar of Immortality.
Unfortunately that was buried deep in the Cosmic Ocean, made of milk no less, and inaccessible to the mightiest of gods, even if they pooled their strengths. However, there was a way. If the ocean could be churned, then the nectar would rise from its liquid stronghold. The gods alone could not do it; they were no longer strong enough for such a mighty task. But if they enlisted the demons to work alongside them and promised them a share in the Amritha, it could still be done. Vishnu promised the skeptical gods that he would ensure the demons never got to sip Immortality. The demons, suspicious as always, but greedy for the nectar, and certain that if it came to a fight, the gods no longer had the power to rout them, agreed.
It is noteworthy that the Manthan, the Sanskrit name for churning, has always been understood as a metaphor for inner psychological turmoil, albeit under controlled conditions. It is a metaphor much beloved of yoga teachers to describe the disturbing processes that ensue when the difficult business of self evaluation is undertook. For a churning rod they selected the Mandara Mountain, understood to represent the spinal column. This mountain is popularly supposed to exist even today, it being the Himalayan peak called Thalay Sagar, looking craggy and pointy enough to serve such a mighty purpose as our illustration shows. For the rope, the King of the Serpents Vasuki consented to be wound round the mountain. This serpent is symbolic of the kundalini energy that rises up the energy channels within the spinal column. The cunning Vishnu suggested to the demons that it would not befit their stature as the strong ones in the universe to hold the tail, so they took the multiple hoods of the serpent king as their lot. During the process the tormented Vasuki kept breathing out his poisonous fumes and they did much to weaken the demons and render them unfit for the final battle. This episode has been interpreted as a parable on pride, the most attractive states and positions are sometimes poisonous over the long run, but you need humility and wisdom to grasp the tail end, the right end.
The churning began, but Mandara having no support in the waters, sank below the surface. This is a comment on the enthusiastic but ill informed aspects of spiritual practice. People begin, but they have no firm foundations to base their enthusiasms on and it slips beneath the waters of their subconscious. Which is when Vishnu manifests himself as the Coorma Avatar, the turtle (or tortoise) form, bearing the mountain upon his broad back while he floats in the waters serving as the pivot for the churning. The turtle or tortoise is symbolic of the Prana or Ki or Chi, the Vital Breath. The Vital Breath alone upholds the world, or anything of substance. So the Prana, breath control in meditation, forms the base for inner psychological experimentation, which in turn causes the Kundalini energy to rise along the central axis of the spine. This interpretation for the myth is common knowledge, yet in India, it does not require masses of learning. The good and bad sides, the Light and the Dark, alternatively exert their pulls and pressures. The Dark exalts itself and claims first place, the Light is humble and seemingly insignificant. The Yin and Yang polarities swing back and forth and all psychological maturity consists of accepting this dichotomy, facing up to both the good and bad within oneself. Only thus do the treasures of the inner self manifest from the depths of the psyche.
The Coorma Avatar is a small part of the larger story of the churning of the Cosmic Ocean, perhaps the most popular mythical story in all Hinduism that is not directly connected to the great epics. So many significant episodes in the development of the tales of the gods are crowded into this one episode that it is certainly a work that developed over large periods of time. Almost every major mythical theme beloved of India has been played out in its telling. All the gods are there, and all the demons too. As usual, Evil is threatening to overwhelm the universe and as usual, Vishnu the Trickster has to step in and pull the divinities' fat out of the fire. The story begins even earlier than the second incarnation of Vishnu that it formally purports to describe. As described in the story of "How the gods cheated death" in our myths section, the gods were not originally immortal. They were capable of coming back to life using the technique of Sanjivani, but that was not any great advantage, as the demons knew the technique too. Over time the balance of power constantly shifts between the two poles of good and evil, and Vishnu incarnates again and again to maintain the Balance of the Cosmos.
When this story begins, the king of the gods, Indra, has just incurred the curse of an angry sage, Durvasa, for disrespecting his gift of a never fading garland. It was not one of these earthshaking curses sages were so fond of, but one laced with subtle malice. For the gods found that their faculties and abilities were slowly deserting them, they were in decline both physical and mental. They could still hold their own against the demon hordes, but the writing was clearly on the wall for anybody who had eyes to see. In panic they approached Brahma, the Creator God, who advised them to seek out the help of Vishnu. This first contact with Brahma is a remnant of the older versions of the tale where he, and not Vishnu, assumes the form of the Coorma or turtle. Vishnu realizes that the gods will not be able to subsist on Sanjivani alone any longer, for each time they are brought back to life they return in their rapidly enfeebled condition. They need to be rejuvenated, as well as put out of the reach of permanent harm attempted by the demons. There was only one solution - Amritha, the Nectar of Immortality.Unfortunately that was buried deep in the Cosmic Ocean, made of milk no less, and inaccessible to the mightiest of gods, even if they pooled their strengths. However, there was a way. If the ocean could be churned, then the nectar would rise from its liquid stronghold. The gods alone could not do it; they were no longer strong enough for such a mighty task. But if they enlisted the demons to work alongside them and promised them a share in the Amritha, it could still be done. Vishnu promised the skeptical gods that he would ensure the demons never got to sip Immortality. The demons, suspicious as always, but greedy for the nectar, and certain that if it came to a fight, the gods no longer had the power to rout them, agreed.
It is noteworthy that the Manthan, the Sanskrit name for churning, has always been understood as a metaphor for inner psychological turmoil, albeit under controlled conditions. It is a metaphor much beloved of yoga teachers to describe the disturbing processes that ensue when the difficult business of self evaluation is undertook. For a churning rod they selected the Mandara Mountain, understood to represent the spinal column. This mountain is popularly supposed to exist even today, it being the Himalayan peak called Thalay Sagar, looking craggy and pointy enough to serve such a mighty purpose as our illustration shows. For the rope, the King of the Serpents Vasuki consented to be wound round the mountain. This serpent is symbolic of the kundalini energy that rises up the energy channels within the spinal column. The cunning Vishnu suggested to the demons that it would not befit their stature as the strong ones in the universe to hold the tail, so they took the multiple hoods of the serpent king as their lot. During the process the tormented Vasuki kept breathing out his poisonous fumes and they did much to weaken the demons and render them unfit for the final battle. This episode has been interpreted as a parable on pride, the most attractive states and positions are sometimes poisonous over the long run, but you need humility and wisdom to grasp the tail end, the right end.The churning began, but Mandara having no support in the waters, sank below the surface. This is a comment on the enthusiastic but ill informed aspects of spiritual practice. People begin, but they have no firm foundations to base their enthusiasms on and it slips beneath the waters of their subconscious. Which is when Vishnu manifests himself as the Coorma Avatar, the turtle (or tortoise) form, bearing the mountain upon his broad back while he floats in the waters serving as the pivot for the churning. The turtle or tortoise is symbolic of the Prana or Ki or Chi, the Vital Breath. The Vital Breath alone upholds the world, or anything of substance. So the Prana, breath control in meditation, forms the base for inner psychological experimentation, which in turn causes the Kundalini energy to rise along the central axis of the spine. This interpretation for the myth is common knowledge, yet in India, it does not require masses of learning. The good and bad sides, the Light and the Dark, alternatively exert their pulls and pressures. The Dark exalts itself and claims first place, the Light is humble and seemingly insignificant. The Yin and Yang polarities swing back and forth and all psychological maturity consists of accepting this dichotomy, facing up to both the good and bad within oneself. Only thus do the treasures of the inner self manifest from the depths of the psyche.
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