Mandalas have been described as everything from an artistic representation of the cosmos as a focus in meditation, to the depiction of a particular deity, to a diagram of one's inner mystical state and a symbol of the innate harmony and perfection of being. With some important shared basics, the many interpretations of and definitions for a mandala differ depending on who you're asking. When I turned to The Mandala Project's page on "What is a Mandala?" to provide a post on the background of mandalas, I found this definition:

Representing the universe itself, a mandala is both the microcosm and the macrocosm, and we are all part of its intricate design. The mandala is more than an image seen with our eyes; it is an actual moment in time. It can be can be used as a vehicle to explore art, science, religion and life itself. The mandala contains an encyclopedia of the finite and a road map to infinity.

Over the last few days, I've been furiously making mandalas and filling this space with some examples of my work, and I started to wonder why. Why I am I so fascinated by creating these intricate circles of color and image? Is there some deeper meaning here for me than just a way to procrastinate on a boring work project? What am I chronicling for the encyclopedia of the universe? If there is something I'm exploring here, what is it?

If my mandalas are a diagram of my own inner mystical state, then I could examine the images I chose to make them as a place to start to answer these questions.

Lately I've been reminiscing about a time in my life that is in the past; my first mandala was from a picture I had taken at some point back then. It's not difficult to see why my subconscious went there. But then I was just playing around with pictures - there was no intent behind creating that mandala as a spiritual expression of anything in particular. I wasn't intending to create an image that would represent that time for me, upon which I might meditate to sort out my feelings or that I might release to the universe as a means of letting go. Perhaps I can see it now as such, but that was not what I was trying to do when I made it.

Carl Jung said that a mandala symbolizes "a safe refuge of inner reconciliation and wholeness." It is "a synthesis of distinctive elements in a unified scheme representing the basic nature of existence." Jung used the mandala for his own personal growth and wrote about his experiences.

In fact, there is quite a lot of writing by Carl Jung and a number of other psychologists on mandalas and their place in psychotherapy and in personal explorations of the emotional and spiritual realms. If I think about my first mandala in the context of Jung's ideas, then I see a strong argument for my subconscious guiding me to make a mandala from that image from my past because I needed to in order to process the things that had been preying on my mind. Perhaps I should make other mandalas from other images that relate to that time and meditate with them to see what happens. I certainly could use some "inner reconciliation and wholeness" on that particular subject. In fact, there may be other things going on my life that I could address through combining the creative act of making a mandala with images relating to something specific and then meditating on the resulting mandala.

There also is another way to consider making mandalas.

My most recent mandalas have all been with the same image of a tree blooming in my neighborhood here in Boston that I took on a glorious Spring day last year. I'm so tired of Winter; I so desperately want it to be Spring. Again, it's fairly easy to see why I might choose an image of Spring to inspire me to create mandalas.

Ostara comes this Thursday, heralding the return of Spring, the quickening of the Earth, and the turning of the Wheel of the Year. In times past, both ancient and not so ancient, many witches and other magickal people believed that they actually were responsible for making sure that the wheel did turn, ensuring that the seasons changed. It was through their work that life continued. Maybe making a mandala for Spring is my contribution to turning the Wheel and making sure that Spring arrives. With her beautiful Spring mandalas, Thalia at Audacia Muliebris could nearly bring in Spring all by herself!

My Spring Mandala. This was my first successful nine-section mandala using Thalia's template.

So far, in making mandalas I've mostly been playing with pretty pictures and honing my skills in Photoshop and math. (Thalia's new templates for nine- and thirteen-section mandalas are tricky.) With the exception of the two that I made specifically as "gifts" to friends, none of the other mandalas I created were originally made with any particular intention behind them. But we witches are all about intent. Our magick requires it. We strive to live our lives by it. So, like creating sigils, creating mandalas could easily be the literal crafting of a spell, choosing the image and going through the steps of making the mandala with a particular intention held strongly in the mind so that the image in the end stands for the spell itself.

Choosing the mandala as the physical representation of a spell strikes me as being one of the most potentially powerful things you could do. Think about that for a moment. With the entire cosmos behind you and the energy of people all over the world and throughout literal millennia of history pouring into the shared web of existence via the creation of mandalas, that's an awful lot of power supporting your mandala spell. Such wonderful, awe-inspiring potential! If you do a mandala spell, as in all spell crafting, be careful what you wish for! My guess is you will get it.

In the case of the Paint-It Pink Mandala Project, not only do I hope this is true, but I believe that this is a cause that we witches and magickal mandala makers could contribute to in a very meaningful way.

During times of transition mandalas serve as visual guides that gently lead us to a place of wholeness and healing self-reflection. They represent a microcosm of the self, harmony and sometimes, the act of divine powers at work. As breast cancer brings powerful emotions of transformation to the surface, creating mandalas can make the journey both more meaningful and more manageable. The cultural icon of the pink ribbon and organizations such as the Susan G. Komen Foundation have worked to make pink the unifying color for all who seek a cure for the disease, one that still affects one in every seven women and many men.

Beautifully, the Paint-It Pink Mandala Project incorporates both symbols--mandalas and the color pink.  Together they represent a growing body of art supportive of healing transformation and a hopeful cure. Each year the entire, on-going collection is presented for national exhibition. All donations and proceeds from entrance to the exhibition are given directly to the Barbara T. Sabo Scholarship Foundation.

Can you think of anything more beautiful, more powerful, more giving to our sisters in the universe than creating a beautiful pink mandala charged with the intention of healing breast cancer?

The Paint-It Pink Mandala Project has a cybergallery where you can view images from the collection, and on their "web page you can download a form to submit a mandala of your own. I'm thinking of sending my pink Spring flower mandala.

Mandalas seem to me an interesting lesson to have stumbled upon - as a person, as a spiritual being, as a witch. I will continue to ponder what mandalas mean to me. I will keep making them, choosing my images with more care and intent. I may even try a mandala spell. I will certainly remember one important message from this recent experience: "Where there is no you, there is no mandala."

Posted by Angela-Eloise at 1:05 PM