The Buddha in the Tarot

by Paul Greer

  The Buddha in the Tarot

  Buddhist Reflections on the Major Arcana

  Paul Greer

  Createspace

  Copyright © 2017 Paul Greer

  All rights reserved.

  Thank you to Michael Welton for his kind permission to quote an excerpt from his article “Can Buddhism Save the World?” at http://www.counterpunch.org/2016/01/15/can-buddhism-save-the-world/.

  All extended quotations of Buddhist and Hindu materials were sourced from public domain sites, especially www.sacred-texts.com.

  All Biblical quotations are from the Revised Standard Version.

  Cover Image: Taoist Sage in the Mountains (stock image no. 117111903); license for commercial use obtained from stock.adobe.com.

  Contact Paul Greer at Augustine196785@gmail.com

  ISBN-13: 978-1542598101

  ISBN-10: 1542598109

  Contents

  General Introduction1

  The Fool (0)19

  The Way of the World

  Introduction31

  The Magician (1)33

  The High Priestess (2)43

  The Empress (3)53

  The Emperor (4)65

  The Hierophant (5)73

  The Lovers (6)83

  The Chariot (7)93

  Departure and Trials

  Introduction101

  Strength (8)105

  The Hermit (9)113

  The Wheel of Fortune (10)121

  Justice (11)131

  The Hanged Man (12)141

  Death (13)147

  Temperance (14)155

  The Devil (15)165

  The Tower (16)175

  The Return

  Introduction181

  The Star (17)185

  The Moon (18)197

  The Sun (19)207

  Judgement (20)219

  The World (21)233

  Notes248

  General Introduction

  Buddha, Tarot and Me

  From what I have read, it seems almost customary for Tarot authors to include some reflections on their own personal journeys with the cards; how the relationship began, and how it has developed over time. Not wanting to break with tradition I will do the same here; although I wish to start with some words on Buddhism before moving on to discuss the Tarot.

  I was first introduced to Buddhism as a Religious Studies undergraduate in the 1980s, and despite forays into other areas of research and spirituality, it remains for me one of the most accurate, compelling and insightful accounts of the human condition that has ever been formulated. And, although I would not count myself as a card-carrying Buddhist, Buddhism remains a significant factor in my life, and continues to shape my ethical values and my understanding of humanity and existence in general. It has also been my privilege to teach Buddhism to A Level students for the last twenty years or so; although my discussions on impermanence and emptiness have perhaps generated more perplexity and angst than insight.

  My relationship with Tarot is a different matter. My first recollection of the deck was as a youngster, watching a television series of fictional short stories entitled Tales of the Unexpected, where the cards appeared on a slowly revolving carousel during the closing credits, accompanied by images of a revolver, the silhouette of an erotically-dancing woman, a glowing African tribal mask, and a roulette wheel. This rather eerie but captivating vignette remains in my mind to this day.

  As an undergraduate I decided to join an “Occult” mail-order book club, on the basis that they would send me three complementary gifts. The first was Doreen Valiente’s Natural Magic; an early Wiccan work from the seventies, and one that still commands much respect today. Of particular interest was a chapter entitled “Magic of the Cards,” which gave some background to the art of cartomancy. The second gift was a coffee-table tome, entitled, strangely enough, Cartomancy, written by Alessandro Bellenghi. Like most books of its kind, it was designed to provide the enthusiastic neophyte with a brief history of card divination, an introduction to Tarot symbolism, and a basic guide to a few commonly-used spreads. The book itself was paired with the third and final gift, and, if I am frank about it, the one I was really after – a 1983 Carti Mundi reproduction of the 1770 Vandenborre Bacchus Tarot deck.

  With Valiente, Bellenghi and the Vandenborre deck in hand, I set off into the mysterious world of the Tarot. To be honest, my first steps into this strange place were not as straightforward as I had hoped they would be. The Vandenborre deck is not the best to learn from, as it contains a number of significant departures from the more commonly-used images of the Major Arcana. The High Priestess card is replaced by a swaggering braggart by the name of Le’Espagnol Captana Earcasse - The Spanish Captain. The rather sober Hierophant is usurped by Bacchus himself, sitting on a cask, quaffing a huge carafe of wine. Other modifications include The Hanged Man shown standing on his feet, and The Tower transformed into a tree, re-titled La Foundre (Thunder). This, accompanied with a lack of imagery on the pip cards and the murky woodblock rendering, made for difficult reading. I persisted however, and eventually produced some insightful readings for my friends and family. Yet, I was always a little uneasy with the practice of divination, and felt a real desire to engage with The Devil’s Picture Book in some other way.

  Work and family life relegated the cards to the bottom of a dusty bookcase until, in 2012, I decided to commit myself to the Tarot once more. This time, I went about my task in a more rigorous and systematic fashion, reading as much as I could, and purchasing better decks. By this time my focus has shifted from divination to a more therapeutic and contemplative approach towards the cards, inspired in much part by Jungian opinions about what the Tarot was “really” about.

  I began, quite casually at first, to notice some interesting parallels between Buddhism and the Tarot cards, particularly those of the Major Arcana. The life of the historical Buddha in particular seemed to mirror a surprising number of images found on the cards. Additionally, many concerns and attitudes which are central to the Buddhist worldview – such as wisdom, compassion, effort, resolve, renunciation, balance, and of course, enlightenment - also began to find some resonance with the deck.

  My personal discovery of correspondences between Buddhism and Tarot provided one of the inspirations for writing this book, and my overall aim is to offer a series of Buddhist reflections on the Tarot, with particular attention given to the cards of the Major Arcana. However, before I delve into discussing other motivations behind this project, I feel it is necessary at this point to provide some background – especially for the uninitiated – into that strange and wonderful world that is Buddhism.

  The World of Buddhism

  The religion of Buddhism is founded on the teachings of Gotama Buddha, who lived and died two-and-a-half thousand years ago. Born the son of a northern-Indian King, Prince Siddhattha Gotama spent his youth surrounded by luxury and sensual delight. With a growing awareness of life’s pains and hardships, and moved with compassion for others, he left his pampered life at the age of twenty-nine and set out on a quest to find a solution to the problems of suffering. After six years of intense spiritual struggle he had an experience of awakening, and was henceforth known as The Buddha - The Enlightened One. He spent the remaining forty-five years of his life teaching and engaging with any who would listen, and establishing a community (Sangha) that would practice and continue his doctrine of liberation (Dharma). He died at the age of eighty, perhaps as a result of unintentional food-poisoning.

  There are two main branches of classical Buddhism. Theravada or the Tradition of the Elders is a branch that holds to the words and teachings of the Buddha found in the Pali scriptures, which many view as representing some of the earliest Buddhist teachings.
This is a form of Buddhism still practiced in Thailand, Sri Lanka, and Myanmar, among other places. Mahayana or the Great Vehicle is an umbrella term applied to forms of Buddhism that display a number of doctrinal developments from earlier teachings. Some of these teachings are so unique that certain scholars make a further division between Mahayana and Vajrayana (Diamond Vehicle) Buddhism. Mahayana Buddhism is associated with the Buddhism of China, Japan, Vietnam, Bhutan, and Tibet, among other places.

  For those new to Buddhism, its teachings may seem like an overly-pessimistic way of envisioning human life and the world. The bottom-line, according to the Buddha, is that everything is characterized by dukkha - often translated as “suffering” or “unsatisfactoriness.” The Buddha’s list is quite comprehensive:

  “This, brethren, is the noble truth of suffering: birth is suffering, old age is suffering, illness is suffering, death is suffering. Union with unpleasant things is suffering, separation from pleasant things is suffering, not obtaining what we wish is suffering …”1

  Moreover, this sense of suffering cannot be pinned on external factors outside our control, whether gods, fate, angelic despots or general randomness. The suffering originates from within. Buddhism traces our woes back to a number of afflictive mental states which condition our generally negative experiences of life, including the “three poisons” of greed, hatred and delusion, our selfish desires which generate harmful patterns of thought, speech and behaviour, and perhaps, most fundamentally, our ignorance. We are especially ignorant of the impermanent nature of the world and ourselves, and this creates strong attachments to things, whether our own sense of self, our thoughts, or sensory objects. These attachments can only bring us suffering in the long run; for, in spite of the illusion of permanency, life in reality is impermanent to the core. To add to our woes, this bleak scenario does not terminate with the destruction of the body. Our afflictive mental states condition new of forms of life which then inherit our delusions, and play out the same Shakespearean tragedy again and again, with new names and new faces. In Buddhism, this potentially unending cycle of folly is termed Samsara – literally, “wandering around.” This however does not mean that Buddhism holds to the doctrine of reincarnation or transmigration. The Buddhist concept of rebirth (punabbhava) is not only different from the Hindu notion of reincarnation (punarjanma), but in some respects its opposite. The Buddha recognized the notion of an indwelling eternal atman or soul, moving from one life to another, as yet another example of delusional “clinging” to some imaginary essence outside the reality of impermanence. “Death” and “rebirth” in Buddhism are pervasive and constant; they are moments of change in a single stream of change extending over countless lifetimes. Delusion involves the belief that there is some eternal “self,” “soul” or atman lying trapped underneath this process that can somehow “escape.” In the unequivocal words of the Buddhist Visuddhi-Magga (Path of Purity):

  No doer is there does the deed,

  Nor is there one who feels the fruit;

  Constituent parts roll on;

  This view alone is orthodox.2

  Given the Buddha’s rejection of various ideas which were and still are highly cherished by many spiritual seekers, it comes as no surprise that he characterized his own teachings as patisotagami – “against the current.”

  The good news, according to Buddhism, is that human are capable of ending the cycle of Samsara, by eradicating “unwholesome” states of mind and cultivating “wholesome” and “beautiful” ones instead. This can be achieved by following the three trainings in Wisdom, Morality and Meditation which are encapsulated in the Noble Eightfold Path. One who has attained this is said to have gained Nirvana – the “blowing-out” or “cooling” of all afflictive mental states. What makes Buddhism unique as a world religion is its belief that this process requires no divine aid or grace, and is in fact achievable within the limitations of one’s own body-mind complex. We ourselves create our suffering, and we ourselves can end it.

  The awakened do not “glow” after enlightenment; they were, and are, still human. In the words of the well-known Zen aphorism: “Before Enlightenment chop wood carry water; after Enlightenment, chop wood carry water.” The difference for one is who is awake is a total reconfiguration of the mind in relation to itself, the body, and the world. Can such inner change be accomplished by mere mortals such as ourselves? The Buddha thought so, and in the Kusala Sutta he reasoned with his followers that if it were not possible to develop that which is “skillful,” then he would not have asked them to do so in the first place.

  There are a number of features within Buddhist doctrine and practice which make it particularly attractive to a growing number of Westerners. These include its emphasis upon reason and investigation over faith; its optimism about the human potential for transformation; its apparent congruity with scientific understanding (especially in the areas of Physics and Ecology); its tolerance of other religions and lifestyles; and its experiential approach to truth. In the West, Buddhism’s practical and pragmatic nature has prompted developments towards a “religion-less” form of practice, divested of what some view as “harmful” accretions that have attached themselves to the Buddha’s original vision of transformation and liberation.3

  Why the Buddha in the Tarot?

  As stated, the aim of this book is to provide a series of Buddhist reflections on the Tarot, focusing on the cards of the Major Arcana. There have been a number of motivating factors behind this project. The first, as I have already said, is that connections between Buddhism and Tarot appear to exist, and this in itself serves as a reasonable justification for their elucidation. Uncovering such correspondences has been an engaging and compelling enterprise, although one that perhaps relates to no more (or no less) than the innate heuristic skill of apophenia – our naturally-evolved ability to see meaningful patterns in random data. While the cynically-minded might view this as something that undermines the integrity of any and all symbol-correspondence endeavors, others might be inclined to adopt a more positive perspective, recognizing apophenia as a useful and natural mechanism which provides a catalyst for profound and creative insight.

  This leads on to another justification for this project which, to use Bradford Hatcher’s words, may be described as “the most useful point” in enabling two formerly separate systems to communicate – to enrich, deepen, and enhance ideas and perspectives.4 In this respect, I must acknowledge that my appreciation of both Buddhism and Tarot has been enriched by the simple act of placing them side by side. On the one hand, the Tarot has provided me with an interpretative lens for looking at Buddhism, bringing into sharp relief ideas which I had never really considered important or worth investigating. Conversely, my acquaintance with Buddhism has prompted glimpses of some unusual yet nevertheless persuasive meanings in the Tarot; meanings that would otherwise be absent.

  The final motivation for this project relates to an observation made by the Buddhist writer Sangharakshita. If Buddhism is to be fully-grounded in the West he argues, then it must remain genuinely Buddhist at its core, but at the same time learn to speak the “language” of the West, in terms of expressing itself in and through its literature, music, art, and mythology.5 It is my view that Tarot provides a valuable resource by which Buddhism can do so; or, to put it another way, that Tarot can be open to and expressive of a Buddhist vision of the spiritual life.

  Although Tarot has been defined as an ongoing-project characterized by openness, creativity and invention,6 some may be of the opinion that a Buddhist-Tarot convergence is simply a step too far; an unlikely marriage of two very different and perhaps incompatible points of view. Some may therefore be surprised to learn that an attempt to unite these two seemingly odd bedfellows was made by Robert Place in his 2004 book The Buddha Tarot Companion: A Mandala of Cards, which served as a reference point for his uniquely designed Buddha Tarot deck. For Place, what brought Buddhism and Tarot together was the life story of the Buddha himself, which share
d with Tarot’s Trumps the same “archetypal pattern.”7 Although one can certainly agree with Place on this point, his approach raises two issues. First, his Tarot deck contains many significant departures from traditional decks and imagery, prompting the question of why such a major redesign was necessary if, as he says, the Buddha’s life and Tarot share the same “archetypal pattern.” Another issue relates to interpretation. Although Place makes much use of Buddhist terminology, he is keen to place Buddhism itself within the folds of neo-Platonism or the “Western Mystery Tradition.”8 In this book I have endeavored to let Buddhism speak more for itself; and when it does, it can often seem at odds with the Perennial Wisdom. More positively, this “bias” towards Buddhism permits us to see meanings in the Tarot imagery which would certainly be absent when viewed through a more-typically Western approach.

  Although my own “Buddhist” interpretation of the cards differs from Place’s in many instances, and quite dramatically at times, his insight that the Buddha’s story and the Tarot conform to the same “archetypal pattern” is a useful and important one, and forms a foundation for my general approach to the cards, and how they relate to the story of the Buddha’s life. In many ways, Place’s approach is based upon a Jungian view of the Trumps, considered as a narrative sequence culminating in self-realization or individuation; or in the Buddha’s case, enlightenment. Before we address the cards directly then, it is necessary to examine to some extent how Jungian thought has influenced Tarot interpretation, particularly in its view of the Major Arcana as both a “path” and therapeutic process towards individuation.