In every moment of our life there is Someone who supports us unnoticed.
The story of Lord Viṣṇu’s second avatāra is somewhat mysterious. While Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam takes entire chapters to speak about other incarnations of the Supreme Being, the tortoise manifestation of the Lord, known as Kūrma, is described in 3 ślokas only. When Lord Viṣṇu takes a manifestation of a giant tortoise and dives deep into the water to stabilise the process of the great churning of the cosmic ocean, His intervention is barely noticed. Yet, without His help, the whole process would be futile.
According to sage Parāśara the tortoise avatāra of Lord Viṣṇu is strongly interlinked with the lessons that Saturn in our birth chart is trying to teach us. The story itself is a powerful metaphor of the spiritual transformation that happens within us in the process of meditation.
So, let’s start from the beginning.
Recognising our limitations
When the conflict between devas (gods) and asuras (demons) escalates and the whole world is afflicted by it, it becomes obvious for both sides that it’s time to find a solution. Devas are especially worried, as they slowly start losing strength against powerful demons. They realise it’s time to appeal to the Supreme Lord.
This is, of course, a powerful metaphor of what is happening in our inner world. Spiritual journey does often resemble the psychological war between the divine powers within us and the shadows. The moment we realise that our strength is limited and not sufficient enough for us to conquer the inner demons, is the moment when we turn to the Divine for help. In this moment of helplessness, we are humbled and we naturally surrender to the higher power.
Recognising our own limitations makes us more humble. Isn’t this one of the key lessons that Saturn in our birth chart often tries to teach us?
But when Indra, the king of gods, humiliated by his defeat, approaches Lord Viṣṇu and prays to Him for help, the advice he receives is not necessarily what he wants to hear. Supreme Lord explains to Indra that the only way to protect the gods from constant defeat, is by obtaining the amṛta, nectar of immortality. But it’s not something that can be found just like that — it requires an ardous process of churning of the great cosmic ocean. Lord Viṣṇu makes it clear: it’s not possible for the gods to be successful in this undertaking alone, for their own power is not sufficient. They will need to make a truce with the asuras, their enemies, and together with them churn the mighty ocean.
The cosmic ocean represents our consciousness, while the process of its churning is a powerful metaphor of our sadhana, spiritual practice. But for this process to commence, we need to firstly make peace with our inner demons, and engage our entire being, both our strengths and weaknesses, for the sake of our personal and spiritual transformation.
What is incredibly significant here and makes it stand out from the stories of other avatāras of Lord Viṣṇu is that in this particular situation, when devas ask for help, God doesn’t tell them: “No problem. I will incarnate and solve this problem for you.” Instead, He guides them in a more subtle way, by telling them what to do, encouraging them to make their own effort and face their fears. At the same time He reassures them that He will be secretly supervising the whole process.
This is highly symbolic in the context of astrological significance of the story of Kūrma avatar, which represents life tests sent our way by Saturn, the planet of our karmic returns. Saturn similarly encourages us in our lives to make peace with our “enemies” (inner or outer), embrace our shadows, accept our weaknesses, and put our effort into self-improvement regardless of all those. Because it is this willingness to transform ourselves and our lives against the odds that makes a real difference in the eyes of God.
Let the churning begin
Every little symbol and detail in the story of the great churning of cosmic ocean is filled with meaning. When the gods and demons joined their hands together to cooperate in this process, to extract the precious amṛta, the sacred essence, from this vast ocean of consciousness, they have placed the great mountain Mandara in the middle as a churning rod and wrapped the great serpent Vāsuki around it as a churning rope. The devas were holding Vāsuki’s tail on one end, and the asuras his neck. And the churning had began.
The great mountain can psychologically stand for the strength of our resolve, but esoterically it represents the very pillar of our body: the spine, with suṣumṇa nāḍī, the central energy channel, hidden inside of it. Vāsuki wrapped around it becomes a powerful metaphor of kuṇḍalinī energy. We have already seen both symbols similarly utilised in the story of Matsya avatāra. Yet, this time we have two opposite energies on both sides: devas and asuras forcefully pulling the serpent in opposite directions and thus churning the great ocean to extract the essence out of it. And there is more than one way to interpret it.
Yogis see the devas and asuras as our inhale and exhale that become utilised during a yogic practice in order to refine our consciousness and extract the essence, satcitānanda, out of it. Psychologically, the gods and demons pulling us in opposite directions illustrate the inner storm or “great churning” happening within us once we decide to commit to our spiritual path and refine our consciousness through our sadhana.
The most beautiful part of this story is, that the Lord, is ever present, silently supporting the whole process on its every stage — often without being noticed. It is through His advise that the process has began. Even during the churning itself, Lord Viṣṇu assumes a form, similar to that of other gods, called Ajita, “undefeatable one”, and starts to pull the serpent’s tail along with other gods, to support their efforts and ease their fatigue. The story beautifully illustrates that once we are ready to make our own effort on spiritual path, the Divine will be there to help us — even though we so often fail to notice it.
Still, even with Divine help, there are many obstacles that we need to overcome in the process of our spiritual transformation — and the story of the churning of the cosmic ocean illustrates those details beautifully:
When Mandara Mountain was thus being used as a churning rod in the great ocean, it had no support, and therefore although held by the strong hands of the devas and asuras, it sank into the water. Because the mountain had been sunk by the strength of providence, the devas and asuras were disappointed, and their faces seemed to shrivel.
Finding a firm foundation
We often begin our spiritual journey with great enthusiasm — similar to that which those gods and demons must have felt on their quest for the divine nectar. But this initial zest often diminishes with time; especially when challenges start to come our way. This is what the sinking of the Mandara mountain represents in the story. When our faith doesn’t have a firm foundation, it easily starts to shake and sink with time. This is why, I believe, my Gurudev often says, that Time is the best judge when it comes to testing the firmness of our dedication.
This naturally reminds me of Saturn, the slowest moving planet in our sky, the Great Teacher and the Great Judge, who is a representative of Time itself. Through various life tests that Saturn brings our way, he often makes us doubt ourselves and our choices, as well as challenges our insecurities, while testing the strength of our commitment, perseverance and patience. But if we choose to stay strong, even when our hopes seem to sink in front of our eyes, like the mountain in the story, God himself will come and support our efforts.
It is when the great mountain started to sink, when doubt and disappointment filled the hearts of both gods and demons, that Lord Viṣṇu took a form of Kūrma — the great tortoise.
Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam narrates:
Seeing the situation that had been created by the destiny, the unlimitedly powerful Lord, whose determination is infallible, took the wonderful shape of a tortoise, entered the water, and lifted the great Mandara mountain. When the gods and demons saw that Mandara mountain had been lifted, they were enlivened and encouraged to begin churning again. The mountain rested on the back of the great tortoise, which extended for eight hundred thousand miles like a large island.
When the Lord Himself decided to bear the weight of the Mandara mountain and provide it a foundation, the great process of churning could continue. For when we are going through intense inner churning or transformation, when we feel that we lose the ground beneath our feet, who else can give us back our sense of stability than the One, who is the foundation of all existence?
This story sends a powerful message: when we go through our personal storms and churnings and when we may feel that all our efforts have gone in vain and there is no one to support us… When we feel that there is nothing we can hold onto… It is the best time to hold onto our relationship with the Divine; to hold onto that which is most subtle, and yet infallible. Hanging onto limited external sources of support and strength (including depending on our own power) may often leave us disappointed and discouraged. But when we depend onto this Spirit within us, which is duranta-vīrya (of unlimited power) and avitathābhisandhi (of infallible determination), and who always silently accompanies us, even though often unnoticed, hidden below the surface of our conscious mind — this is when we start understanding what is even the purpose of all the life tests and challenges that we are going through: to strengthen our relationship with the Divine. Because it is often so that only when all the external sources of hope and strength fail that we finally start turning our gaze inwards and find the infallible support within.
When the winds of change start to wear us down, this is when we finally start to look within and get in touch with our centre — only to find out that this centre, “the eye of the cyclone”, was ever peaceful this whole time.
And this is what Kūrma avatar represents — this shift in our awareness, when we slowly start depending less and less on the external circumstances and find more and more comfort in relying on the Divine and on our soul’s inner peace. Even though the foundation that the Divine graces us with is not something material or perceptible, the more we allow ourselves to depend on it, the more we start to realise that it is more stable and firm than any other external source of comfort.
Kūrma from yogic perspective
Lord Viṣṇu appearing as a gigantic tortoise under Mandara mountain (a symbol of our spinal column), in order to stabilise the whole process, naturally represents the energy of our root chakra and the necessity of staying grounded and humble on our spiritual path. Saturn himself represents the energy of our first chakra, mūlādhāra, according to Sri Yukteshwar. When we try to adventure on the path of spiritual transformation, but our very foundation is shaky, we will soon realise that the whole process cannot continue until we heal our “basement”.
And what destabilises the energy of our root chakra the most? Fear, of course — the signature shadow side of Saturn. For when we are full of fear, our faith and confidence suffer, and it’s hard to move forward with anything in life. Insecurity naturally leads to instability.
Patanjali says in his Yogasūtras: kūrmanāḍyām sthairyam. “By meditation on kūrma nāḍī in our energy body one gains stability”. Kūrma nāḍī is the energy channel which begins in our root chakra and goes all the way to the upper thoracic area of throat chakra. Different schools of yoga believe that by concentration on either of the endings of this energy channel, while staying mindful of our breath, brings one into the state of inner tranquility and allows us to feel more grounded.
Kūrma is also the name of one of the vāyus or prāṇas, vital airs operating in our energy body. Kūrma vāyu resides in our eyes and regulates our blinking, eye movements, as well as the amount of light that goes in through our retina. It operates when we are awake, but becomes rejuvenated during the night, when we sleep, and symbolically withdraw our senses.
The pace of our blinking can, indeed, to a big extent reveal how calm and stable our mind is. When we are very stressed, we tend to blink very fast; when we are scared or feel threatened, we sometimes almost don’t blink at all. Interestingly enough, when we try to consciously blink slowly, as slow as possible (almost resembling the movements of the tortoise), we can very quickly get the same result as if trying to slow down our breath: our mind automatically becomes calm and stable, even if we are very agitated or angry.
And that is what Kūrma’s main teaching is: slow down. Stay patient and humble. Find stability within.
Withdraw your senses and proceed within
Tortoise or kūrma is a powerful symbol in Hindu philosophy. Already in ancient Vedic scriptures we can see the mentions of mystical tortoise, who gave birth to all living creatures and is foundation of all life. The symbol was so powerful that the image of a tortoise was often buried in the soil under the traditional Vedic fire altars, as mentioned in Śatapatha Brāhmaṇa.
But why tortoise?
At the end of Chapter 2 of Bhagavad Gītā Lord Kṛṣṇa describes the qualities of a self-realised soul. In verse 58 He says:
When one is able to withdraw the senses from the objects of senses on every side, as a tortoise withdraws its limbs, then one’s wisdom is firmly established.
A tortoise, with its ability to withdraw its five limbs in face of any threat and wait through the difficult times in the safety of its shell, is a potent metaphor of a self-realised yogi going into the state of samadhi, absorption in the Divine, and withdrawing its senses from the external world — in other words, reconnecting with the Source. Lord Kṛṣṇa considers a wisdom of such a person “firmly established”.
In Chapter 2 of the Gītā Kṛṣṇa makes it clear: the difference between a normal person and a self-realised soul is our lack of ability to withdraw our senses at will and be firmly established in the Self, regardless of the external circumstances. The saints always depend on their inner reality, the spiritual source within them, much more than on the changeable external reality, which is the unfortunate habit of other mortals.
This unique ability of a tortoise made it into a symbol so powerful in Indian culture that until today in many temples of India, especially those encasing samadhis of the great saints (places where those saints breathed their last), have an image of tortoise engraved on their doorstep. The message is clear: before you enter a sacred space and communicate with the Divine, leave your external reality behind. Withdraw your senses and proceed within.
Breath — the secret of a tortoise
Although slow in nature, the tortoise embodies steadiness and endurance. It is also a powerful symbol of longevity and standing against the force of time. The oldest known living being on our planet, slowly heading towards the age of 200, is a tortoise — with adorable name Jonathan. It’s hard to think of any other animal that could embody the qualities so dear to Saturn so accurately.
Saturn represents air element in Vedic astrology, or the power of breath within us. And not surprisingly the secret of tortoise’s longevity is the breath itself, which is significantly slower than ours: a tortoise needs to breath only 4 times a minute. Slower and more steady breath is a well-known secret for longevity manifested through various species in nature— which is precisely why yogic techniques, so strongly linked to our breathing, can be so effective in extending our longevity and calming our mind.
From yogic perspective breath is much more than a physiological function: it is the thread that keeps our body and soul together. It is our link with the Divine. Yogis utilise the power of breath to calm down the mind and soothe overstimulated senses, which naturally makes a person more centred within and less disturbed by external “storms”. But it is just the first step. Once the mind and the senses are calm and the breath slows down, a yogi does not only start to experience a greater reality within oneself (the soul), but gets intimately in touch with the Supersoul who pervades all beings. He starts to perceive the One, who is normally unseen.
Kūrma represents this unseen, hidden aspect of God. He is the only avatāra of Lord Viṣṇu, who basically goes unnoticed. When both gods and demons are so engrossed in their endeavour and overwhelmed with emotions, they don’t even notice when the Lord in the form of gigantic tortoise manifests under the water to secretly support their efforts. Normally, whenever Lord Viṣṇu takes any of His divine forms, the gods immediately stop all their work to offer their praises to Him and bow in reverence. But when Lord Viṣṇu takes the form of Kūrma, they don’t even realise that He is there.
And that is the greatness of Kūrma avatāra. Lord Viṣṇu in this form represents the infinite humility of God — which is also the quality dearest to Saturn. Even after taking the form of a tortoise, the Lord continues to amaze. He then additionally sits on top of Mandara in His thousand-handed form, to additionally stabilise the mountain — again unnoticed. Afterwards, as the Supersoul, he enters the consciousness of both gods and demons, and even that of serpent Vāsuki, and amplifies their strength. Not mentioning that while all this is happening, he is also there as Ajita, holding the tail of the great serpent with the gods, and helping them to pull. In His subtle form Lord as Kūrma pervades the whole scene and supervises the whole process.
Lord as Kūrma avatāra in this story is literally doing everything. And yet nobody notices.
Like the breath — our secret, unnoticed companion. Our link with the Divine.
This reminds me of a beautiful poem of Kabir, accurately titled “The Breath”:
Are you looking for me? I am in the next seat.
My shoulder is against yours.
You will not find me in stupas, not in Indian shrine rooms,
nor in synagogues, nor in cathedrals:
not in masses, nor in kirtans, not in legs winding around your
own neck, nor in eating nothing but vegetables.
When you really look for me, you will see me instantly —
you will find me in the tiniest house of time.
Kabir says: Student, tell me what is God?
He is the breath inside the breath.
Healing the Navagrahas Within You
There is so much more to the story of each of those Divine incarnations, especially when we look at them through the lens of Vedic Astrology and our spiritual growth. Each story hides important life lessons in its details and symbolic language — the only type of language which doesn’t get twisted or deviated with time.
During our ongoing “Healing the Navagrahas Within You” course we will be looking much deeper into those stories from perspective of Vedic Astrology, decoding their meanings in our birth charts and meditating with those Divine incarnations, so we can truly heal those parts of ourselves and grow. It is the first such a course in which we will combine the wisdom of Vedic Astrology with the power of mindful meditation.
You are most welcome to join the introduction session for free, if it’s something that sparks your interest — click here to sign up for the free session. Click here if you want to learn more about the “Healing the Navagrahas Within You” course and enrol.
