Espejo Sideral

In this short article I present some initial reflections on Hazrat Inayat Khan’s understanding of existence and God in connection to sound. I will first summarize Khan’s basic metaphysical premises, and then I will introduce the topic of the sawt-e-sarmad, the subtle universal sound, and the mystical techniques that use it as an object for concentration, meditation and contemplation. I will discuss these ideas critically in connection to some aspects of South Asian spiritual traditions.

I. Metaphysical premises: vibration as the ground of creation and music as “the divine art” of rhythm and harmony

Khan argues that movement or vibration is the fundamental phenomenon at the root of all that exists (17). This primordial activity manifests a continuum of existence that stretches from the ethereal to the more gross or dense; the principle of vibration explains the process of the descent of spirit into matter, as well as its return to the source (9). All that exists branched out of the primordial life of God, and exists in God (250). This would appear to be a sort of panentheism, where God is both immanent in creation and transcendent; which is different to other branches of orthodox Islamic theology.

The author believes that the first manifestation of this movement or vibration is audible (sound, music), and that its second manifestation is visible (light) (17). Since the first manifestation of the primordial movement or vibration is audible (sound), mystics speak of the ‘music of spirit’, which is said to reflect the intelligence and beauty of its source (15). This ‘music of spirit’ is also associated to the concept of ‘the word’, the vibration that brought all creation into being and will also carry it back to dissolution (5-6). In Islam, Ismaïsm is the name given to this doctrine of the mystical word (Izmi Azam) (248, 291, 295). Parallels are found in Judaism, Christianity and Hinduism (9).

This brought to my mind an aspect of Hinduism. Beck explains that Vācaspati (c. 10th century C.E.), an influential scholar who expounded on Vyāsa’s commentary on the Yoga-Sūtra, seems to have made the earliest reference to nāda in the classical yoga tradition. In a gloss to Vyāsa’s commentary, Vācaspati uses the components of the syllable AUM as a framework to explain a practice that involves control of the breath and concentration on inner light present in certain locations of the subtle body (Beck, 89, 91). I have also come across several Śaiva Tantras that give advice on how to merge (layaṃ) into this internal sound or resonance (Vasudeva, 273-278). In these texts, the word lakṣya is used to refer to manifestations of the nondual formless Śiva. Sound and light are usually two of the lakṣyas, and these are curiously the first two manifestations of the primordial vibration according to Khan (17). I will refer to this in more detail in the next section.

However, I believe that we must be careful before drawing conclusions based on blind perennialist assumptions. Beck points out some discrepancies between some of these texts regarding certain matters (94-96). For instance, The Yogaśikha-Upaniṣad states that the origin of nāda is the Mūlādhāra cakra, whereas the Darśana-Upaniṣad locates the source in the top of the head, in the Brahmarandhra (as also does the Gorakṣapaddhati). Even in the field of premodern South Asian spiritual practice, I am not so sure that there is one entirely coherent conception of internal sound.

But beyond all this, what perhaps intrigues me the most about this the equation of the ultimate ground of being with either sound or silence. Again, there seems to be more than one answer. In Vedānta, the Supreme Brahman, is considered to be beyond sound, and all sounds finally merge into soundlessness (Beck, 90-91). In contrast, Vācaspati appears to identify the highest state with Nāda-Brahman, which is not devoid of sound (Beck, 91). The Haṭhapradīpikā seems to suggest that absorption into sound ultimately leads to Paramātmā, which is beyond all of sound (verse 4.101). In the Śaiva Dīkṣottara, the subtle sound of ghaṇṭānāda, associated to the suṣumnā subtle channel, is said to gradually fade as it leads to the silent fourth state (Vasudeva, 279). However, I would not be sure where Khan would stand in regard to this issue.

II. Mastery of the causes: finding the power of the word 

Khan claims that human beings can create their world by the power of sound, the supreme aspect of knowledge because it is beyond all form. “(…) mastery of that knowledge helps man to rise to the formless” (27). Two effects of music can be manifested: (i) power, sometimes occult powers; and (ii) intoxication, ecstasy (masti) (5). Different practices have been used to master the power of the word. In one of these practices, Ragas (patterns of musical notes) are impressed upon the mind and later “improved on”, trusting that when this is done without feeling or connection to the ego, there comes the subtle “sound of breath” not perceivable by the ears (23). Khan calls this phenomenon “the music of the soul”, present not in the sphere of feeling and devotion, but rather in the hidden meaning of the syllables, which seek to make the soul aware of its immortality (ibid.). The unconscious human desire to be alone is rooted in the deep longing “to hear the sound of the soul” (24). The universal sound of the spheres is called Anahad nada or sawt-e-sarmad, and it is considered the basis of all audible sound made by human voice or instruments (10). It likened to a lighthouse on the spiritual path (20). 

This brought to my mind a practice taught in the Haṭhapradīpikā that seems to be akin to the Sufi technique of listening to the sawt-e-sarmad. In the Haṭhapradīpikā it is found under the name of nādānusandhāna, which involves actively listening to internal sound (nāda) as a means for attaining a state of dissolution or absorption (laya). The ears are sealed with the fingers and the practitioner listens attentively to a series of internal sounds, in order to reach a state of dissolution (mainly verses 4.65 to 4.106). 

Referring to another yoga text that alludes to this kind of practices, Mircea Eliade argued that it was written in “a yogic circle that specialized in ‘mystical auditions’ – that is, in obtaining ‘ecstasy’ through concentration on sounds” through the application of specific techniques that sought to “transform the whole cosmos into a vast, sonorous theophany” (133). The mystical aspect of this practice is evident from this perspective.

If we go back to the question of whether there is single source or not, I would again adopt a cautious attitude. James Mallinson believes that the practice of listening to internal sound is found in some formulations of yoga that predate what is now known as traditional haṭha yoga, a claim that is also based on the work of Vasudeva on the Śaiva Mālinīvijayottaratantra (2011, 775). I wonder if it is really reasonable to believe that all these mystical techniques can be traced to one single source, whether Brahmanical, Śramaņa, Egyptian, Śaiva, etc. Mallinson does not answer this question.

Bibliography

Beck, Guy L. 1993. Sonic Theology: Hinduism and Sacred Sound. University of South Carolina Press.

Bouy, Christian. 1994. Les Nātha-Yogin et les Upaniṣads. Diffusion de Boccard.

Eliade, Mircea. 2009. Yoga: Immortality and Freedom. Princeton University Press.

Haṭhapradīpikā of Svātmārāma. 2010. In: Maheshananda, Swami and B.R. Sharma. A Critical Edition of Jyotsnā. Kaivalyadhama.

Khan, Hazrat Inayat. 1996. The Mysticism of Sound and Music. Shambhala.

Vasudeva, Somadeva. 2004. The Yoga of the Mālinı̄vijayottara. Institut Français de Pondichéry.