The ideal interplay between body and mind is described in classical Buddhist terms in a rather drastic and somewhat politically incorrect way. According to this, the mind is a person with a severe physical disability but very good eyesight, while the body is the ridden, blind, somewhat wild horse. The mind leads the body, not the other way around. The mind usually wants to do yoga in the morning, but the body gets its way and presses the snooze button. The body wants alcohol, while the mind is a teetotaler. But the body should become a friend, so exercise and exercise again and again. Not put in the corner. And the book is no substitute for body care. A healthy mind in a healthy body, as it was called in the West. It's about an awakened body and an awakened mind. In tantric Buddhism, we can also start with the body if we don't forget the mind. The body brings the energy, the mind the clarity and the knowledge of impermanence and the lack of "empty intrinsic nature of composite phenomena". 

War is the father of all things. You can swallow empty. What was Heraclitus thinking? And what would that mean today in a world where sabre-rattling is no longer enough, the sabre needs to be used. Well, it's about opposites that are perhaps not opposites, but are mutually dependent? Those who shout peace are aggressive. What are the links between these opposites? Buddhism helps to understand that war is what we give it a fixed meaning on the mental level. So not father, but enemy of life, for example. But others give it a different meaning: salvation from the loss of sovereignty. So the first step is to realize that diversity of perspective helps us to tame the mind because there is no truth (relative truth is the Buddhist technical term). And the second step is to be free of mindless constructs, then it is about ethical action. And then war is the downfall of humanity.

The red Tara has power. She not only helps quickly and efficiently when there is existential need, but also ensnares people when they are too attached. And bang, they are captured by grace and their spirit is softened and they are gently led on a path that first involves giving up and letting go. Falling into the bottomless pit can mean this. Enduring fear. Radically. Then slowly rising again in clarity and a secure sense of living in the now.

Why do we have Buddha statues in the garden or bathroom in the West? This relaxed face of the Buddha is peaceful. A relaxed pose. (Well, but for whom isn't the sitting position bone-crushing?) But that's the right track. We have an endless longing for relaxation, for rest. Everyone and everything is stressed, so even a crucified person doesn't help as a symbol, does it? Perhaps we want to identify less with suffering than with a possible ideal future? All in all, we would rather have a simple and positive explanation than a complicated and negative one. So the smiling Buddha might fit more into today's inner concept of repression? If we allow Christ to have an effect on us with the strong symbolism of a Grünewald painting, theologically interpreted as the deepest compassion, then this was probably very vivid in the Middle Ages and was able to pick people up. But today we repress suffering and ride the wave of beauty and youthful freshness. 

Tantra is the salt in the Buddhist soup. Close to life. This network "endangers" our mental obstacles in an extremely flexible and non-fixing way. So the aim is to eliminate mental constriction and break down concepts. Using everything we encounter: strong feelings, everyday life, sexuality in all its facets, constricting powerlessness, trouble with parents, even a little wake-up call (Tilopa's sandal on Naropa's skull) and so on. Tantra is a whole life, not something split away or just nice and beautiful. By tantric Buddhism we mean Tibetan Buddhism. A tantra is also a "teaching", a text that deals with a deep subject, often in an unorthodox way. Tantra developed in India, where it was cross-fertilized, so to speak, by Hinduism and Buddhism, ground with a mortar and brought to the heights of the Tibetan mountains by a flying lion. Poetically sung, theoretically embedded and deeply systematized. And always one thing: practically comprehensible. 

The four noble truths are both simple and profoundly wise. There is dissatisfaction in the mind and body. There is a simple reason for this, namely identification with feelings, concepts and sensations. And there is good news, namely a way out of this self-produced unhappiness. This path is clearly defined and has (eight) concrete points. Very simple. So why do so few people take this path, or in other words, why should there only be a few thousand awakened people in our age and not a few million? Well, this simple message has a few stumbling blocks. First of all, we have to accept and understand that even supposedly positive feelings are suffering in themselves. Why? The positivity passes more quickly than we would like. Then we are unhappy and chase after short-term happiness again. And so on, an eternal cycle. Another stumbling block is our laziness with regard to this fourth and final noble truth. We need discipline - not exactly an uplifting term these days and it has nothing to do with being stubbornly uptight. First of all, if we use the system of Buddhist psychology, we need confidence that we can have this discipline. Do we really believe in this power within us? Then it's about consistency, being disciplined just once is not enough. And only after weeks and months of dedication and consistency can we fully fulfill these 8 aspects (such as deep understanding, ethically conscious action or relaxed meditation). Then we gain a loving routine and a clear view, and sooner or later we awaken.

Buddha is not so important, long dead. Nietzsche would be pleased with this statement. Because God is also dead: the idea of an external force is passé, not very helpful. Only helpful for the poor as a source of power, religion as the opium of the people, according to Marx. Arendt could say how irrelevant this generalization is; the individual assumption of responsibility for justice and freedom remains decisive. And where is the historical Buddha? After all, he was one of the first to radically assume this individual responsibility, for the benefit of freedom for all equally, without exception. Of course, this short discourse is steep. But stimulating the brain and reacting critically is important at the beginning, before I practise devotion. Not to the historical Buddha, who is actually no longer with us, but to my living lama, to Buddhist texts that inspire me today, to my colleague who meditates with me.

As soon as we see the wrathful Buddhas, we are irritated. Iconographically, there are three variants of Tibetan Buddhist deities: these friendly ones (Tara, Buddha), then the semi-wrathful ones - like many female deities with their bared teeth (Vajrayogini) - and then the really wrathful ones that you don't want to meet at night (Mahakala). And of course, all these variants are externalized feelings manifested as deities. This then becomes Buddhist-'theo'logically complex. Externalized feelings that also show the absurdity of our strong emotions when viewed from the outside. How crazy we must be when the drool runs down the corners of our mouths when we are angry, so to speak. How out of ourselves, as it is aptly called. The way forward is to acknowledge our strong feelings and recognize their creative power. Liberation from the limiting ego is the goal. 

Bliss is the goal. Bliss in the body. A calm, long-lasting ecstasy. Initially, a brief feeling of happiness when eating chocolate or having an orgasm may be enough. Step one, so to speak. Bliss means calm, peace, an open gaze, alertness. Consistency in the inner smile. The body is full, not stuffed. And then an alert and calm mind.