Do we like "ferocious" (Ugra) Goddesses?

Photo: Barbie Robinson

If truth be told, a visceral experience of strength is not considered “spiritual” in our times. “Strength” is largely understood as something of the mind, a mental resolve, a statement, or narrative of what that means, and a series of actions templated by these narratives. In fact, we even consider strength of the body as oppositional to spirituality.

When we invoke fierce Goddesses such as Durga or Kali, I often hear from people in the classes how they feel uncomfortable with what they experience as “aggression.” And isn’t this a deep contention for women for centuries! We cannot use words such as “power” and “ferocity” without fearing the label “aggression”! So, we instrumentalise this energy in versions of Goddess stories. The Goddess, we narrate, is only ferocious to defeat “evil”, otherwise She is benign and motherly and all-forgiving. Much like our attitudes to women’s feelings in general.

When we prefer our Goddesses as limpid, or as sentimental expressions of faux ferocity, we miss the opportunity to encounter primeval energies of Ugra that move within and without us. And Ugra is a necessary energy for self-inquiry.

One truth I have experienced in my life is that the kind of “strength” that is required for self-inquiry is not only mental—it is an experience of groundedness in the body. It is impossible to translate what this strength, which is called Ugra in dance invocations, means in terms of words. It springs from connection to gravity, momentum arising from that connection, and a co-creative courage to partner that momentum. It is initiated by the lower body, and it is the movements of the lower body that shapes the flow through the rest of the body.

This is a reversal in literal terms of mind-led movements which are largely initiated by our upper body, especially by our hands and arms. However, it is not simply a reversal, but holds a specific experience constellation that asks us to connect with the innate “strength” in our bodies that emerges from connection to Earth.

We spend our lifetime largely seated. We rarely use our lower bodies except to transport us or to follow the instructions of the mind. For many of us, as we age, we lose strength firstly in our lower bodies. And yet, this is where we connect with Earth and with the grounded energy that the Earth holds for us.

Ugra is not anger because anger is instrumental. As we see with the stories where the Goddess’s Ugra is transformed into instrumental anger about good and evil. Ugra is unconditional and not invested in any oppositional stories which are of duality of the mind. The Earth is Ugra in Her expressions of storms, volcanic eruptions and raging seas. So also, there is Ugra within us, the energy that is as present and as equally as relevant as the gentleness of a flower opening, or the beauteous colours of a spring sunset.

We don’t like Ugra because there is something about visceral groundedness that locates agency squarely in the intimate realm of our body. It is far easier to speak of “strength” and to hold intentions of strength that are, in expression, often mostly mental. In Ugra there is no escape and nowhere to hide. We sense our resistance to presence and how the mind deludes us through deleting the body from narratives of strength in spirituality.

We also don’t like Ugra because it is unconditional. We cannot “control” or “master” or “improve” this energy. When we approach strength through the usual frameworks of exercise and technique, we control the unfolding of strength and instrumentalise it. That is not to say that these modalities are not valuable and healthy, this reflection is made in the context of spiritual inquiry. When we invoke Ugra we realise that Ugra is more expansive than our individual energy and unconnected to all our narratives of purpose. In this unconditionality, we can only partner Ugra in a visceral co-creative dance and receive the unfolding of its intelligence.

I had a dream a few days ago about wandering on a mountain by myself. In the dream I had managed to escape from a situation where some people were being held hostage. The mountain was unfamiliar, and I was not sure how I would survive or if I would survive. I felt both terror and freedom in the same sensation. A not so small part of me wanted to return to the hostage situation to be with everyone else rather than being alone on the mountain. Interestingly my mind proposed this return in noble terms—to save all the others.

This is where Ugra is required as the fuel to allow us to explore the unknown mountain, perhaps by ourselves, to inquire into our sensations of terror, guilt, and the desperate yearning for a freedom which we have never tasted before.

Self-inquiry is to encounter mystery and the unknowable and to move in this unfolding without conquering it with what we already know. It is also not about anyone else, about saving, or signing up, it is our intimate and visceral inquiry and unfolding. The ancient Goddesses were Ugra because they held this energy or “shakthi’ that fuels dancing the unknowable.

To be infused with Ugra is to be prepared for manifesting all of our Reality without any curation.