We resumed our Yoga Sutras Reading group sessions with a brief recapitulation of Book I and an overview about the topics that we will encounter in our reading of Book II. Remember that the very first thing we found in Book I, called Samādhi Pāda, was a definition of yoga as nirodha. We talked about the different ways of translating such a term. We saw how the definition of yoga is intimately related to the workings of the mind and a full session was dedicated to go over how Patañjali classifies the mental contents. The distinction between a distracted and a focused mind is made in the first Book and many different techniques are enumerated in order to bring the mind into a detached and deep, contemplative state. What was the reason for all this? We talked about the way yoga philosophy understands the essence of ourselves and that the main predicament of our lives is that we tend to forget our own essence, our real self. So the practice of yoga and detachment is meant to help our mind realize its own nature and with that, acknowledge the infinite source of consciousness and wisdom that supports it, in spite of all the obstacles that may obstruct that vision.
Book II, called Sādhana Pāda, goes deeper into the description of the way our mind works and also gives more details about the practice of yoga. The famous eight parts of yoga are defined after the description of the subconscious mechanisms of the mind, the theory of karma and the metaphysics (i.e. the theory of what there is) of yoga philosophy.
We decided to start this book by reading the sutras that refer to what many have called, the “ashtanga yoga” (astau- eight, anga- limb, member). Sutra II.28 tells us that the purpose of yoga practice is to purify our mind and bring forth our shining, clear, radiant, wise and conscious nature. The eight elements are, as many of you already know by heart: yama, niyama, āsana, prānāyāma, pratyāhāra, dhāranā, dhyāna, and samādhi.
We focused on the yamas and niyamas. Sutra II.31 refers to the yamas as māhavratam, i.e. as the great vows: ahimsā - non-violence, satya –truthfullness, asteya –non-stealing, brahmacarya- continence and aparigraha –fulfillment. These are considered to be universal and unconditioned by time, place or circumstance. If we think a little bit about what it means for them to be universal, we may think it is because they have to be followed unconditionally by everyone. But if this is the case, then we find that there are many circumstances of our normal life where we do not follow them, and even more, where our culture and society thinks they do not have to be followed. Just think about the position that soldiers are in. If the yamas were taken as universal, then the whole military system would have to be vanished. Another example is commerce and marketing. If society were to really follow the yamas, then marketing a product by exalting virtues that it does not really have would need to be considered as an unacceptable practice for its lack of truthfullness. There are many more examples in our society where the yamas are not only not followed, but accepted as non-applicable. So again, what does Patañjali mean by their unversality?
If the yamas were to be taken seriously, they would entail a huge change in many of our social well accepted institutions and costumes. But not in vain sutra II.31 calls them the great vows. To make a vow is to make a promise. A promise is a statement that makes us responsible for its execution. Without the promise, there is no expectation to act. What I think we can read here is that the yogic discipline (just as any other spiritual path) involves making a big promise, to ourselves and to others. And such a promise needs to be performed under any circumstances, regardless the social and cultural values around us, if we are to be called “yogis” or followers of such a path. Of course, not everybody makes such a promise. But once we have done it, we are committed to it. Here then appears other sorts of considerations. There are times when we have to decide between one value and another. For example, if you see a child running in front of you trying to hide, and next you see the robber trying to asault him; if the robber asks you whether you have seen the child, would you tell the truth? If you did not tell the truth you would be breaking the vow of truthfullness. Really? The yogic tradition says that whenever one niyama is compromised, we need to take the first one in the list as the most important. This means that for the yoga tradition, avoiding violence is more important than saying the truth, for the truth that causes harm is useless.
Now, the next question is, what is to be non-violent? As Gandhi’s grandson says, we usually are not conscious of how violent we are because we think that violence involves killing, beating, fighting and making wars, things that average people don’t do. But there are many subtle ways of being violent in our behavior towards others and towards ourselves. We can be violent not only in the way we act but also in how we communicate with others and in our own thoughts. Sutra II.35 says that when we have established ourselves in complete non-violence, then all hostility and animosity is gone. This statement has a very deep meaning that is not easily graspable without experiencing it, but I think Gandhi’s teachings are very inspiring and exemplifying. To be established in ahimsa does not necessarily mean that everything around us will be completely in peace. Although Iyengar and other commentaries mention that the presence of a complete non-violent yogi will make people, animals and all hostility around him or her cease. Nevertheless, historically reality has also given us opposite examples. For there are occasions where in order for non-violence to triumph, it needs to be confronted with violence, and thus, many monks, and peace workers have found themselves subjected to violence, to the point of even killed. Ahimsa is not always measured by the external outcome around us, but by our own capacity of remaining in complete non-violence (love and compassion) towards the violent (or the “enemy”).
Just as ahimsa and satya, asteya or non-stealing refers not only to our acts, but also to our thoughts and words. Asteya can positively be translated as “abiding in generosity and honesty” (Nishala Joy Devi, p.189). And just as when we are established in truthfulness, our words become so powerful as to create the reality of their meaning, prosperity manifests when we express generosity. This is one of the key ideas of this Second Book: there is reciprocity between our acts, their effect in the world and the response that we get back from the universe.
Brahmacarya or continence is usually related with sexual abstinence, especially among the more ascetic yogic paths. But we talked in class how this niyama is better understood as the containment of our creative energy and its pleasures in a way that we can direct it towards wisdom, knowledge, vitality and consciousness. In other words, we talked about how sexual energy has been considered by yogic schools with tantric influence as a threshold for liberation and enlightenment.
Finally, Sutra II.39 says that being established in aparigraha or non-greed gives us knowledge of past and future lives. But what does this really mean? Nishala Devi translates this sutra as saying that aparigraha is recognizing the abundance, the blessings in everything, and that this brings insight into the purpose of our lifes. Iyengar also tells us that this yama makes us realize the true meaning of our lives, perhaps because by loving what we are and what we have in the present, we can acknowledge where we have come from, how our history has shaped us into who we are and where we are going on from there.
While the yamas refer to our relation with others, the niyamas involve practices that relate to how we take care of ourselves. Sauca or cleanliness, refers not only to keep our physical bodies clean, but also our thoughts. It is related with the idea of purity and, traditionally, it has been expressed in the form of yogic practices such as nasal, stomach, and bowels deep cleansing. We talked about how the body has been some times considered as something dirty and how, thorugh constant purification the mind detaches from it and can focus in our inner self to experience a higher joy. But we also mentioned that the body is considered as the temple of the Divine, and that as such, it needs to be valued, honored and taken care of.
Santosa is translated as contentment, which brings supreme joy. Usually, and especially in the ascetic tradition, supreme joy is understood as the freedom from desires. We talked about howit is possible to feel contentment while having desires as long as we do not attach to the outcome of our effort to obtain them. Contentment as acceptance of the present situation does not exclude desires and emotions; it excludes the attachment to them and the identification to one way of being. Things are always flowing and changing, so we cannot hold unto that.
Tapas is the self-discipline and effort that we put in the practice of yoga. Traditionally it is understood as austerity. In an ascetic sense, austerity is when we subject our bodies to extreme situations in order to overcome them, like holding the body in a fixed position for a certain amount of time, or fasting, or being in silence for some time. The purpose of such practices is to purify our minds and reveal our inner power.
Svādhyāya is self-study. It usually refers to the study of sacred texts in order to gain more insight about the Divine. But self-study can also mean to be constantly aware of our actions, thoughts and words. I call it a “self-monitoring” and a constant bringing our mind into a focused and balanced state. Introspection would be a good word for it, “to go inside” ourselves in order to discover our real and authentic self.
Isvarapranidhāna or surrender to the Divine is what, according to yoga, brings the mind to a state of perfect contemplation (Sutra II.45). We had talked about how, in the First Book, devotion to God or the Supreme Consciousness was one of the techniques to focus our mind. Here, in the second book, it is taken as an essential part of the practice. If we regard it as the practice of surrendering our mind to a higher consciousness or intelligence or awareness, then it is clear that the discipline of yoga essentially requires it, since the aim of the practice is precisely to open our mind, heart and vision to the reality of an infinite consciousness. On the other hand, without surrendering the mind to something higher (wider, bigger, etc.) than itself, then the discipline turns into a mere product of a measurable effort. But this can only enhance the ego, making us feel that it is all product of our own effort. Instead, a practice that acknowledges something that goes beyond our individual and limited minds allows us to “open” our hearts and achieve a higher awareness. The practice, the tapas, or the power of our discipline needs to be balanced with the surrendering of our minds, for only then grace can happen, and through grace our “heart” or real self, not our egos, can grow.
Please feel free to disagree and comment what you think about this topic. We will be talking a little bit more about tapas, svādhyāya and isvarapranidhāna next meeting. In the meantime, let’s observe how we apply the yamas in our lives. Have we made already the big promise?
