asterix

*Am working on figuring out the best way to render Devanagari. For now, transliteration...sorry. Namaste.

Saturday, March 31, 2018

To Seed or not to Seed (YS 1.46-51)

In the last post, we had to do some rather fancy footwork to make sense of a few things, and even then, there are still some lingering questions. In short, we did discover that there are four types of Samãdhi, or meditative synthesis, at this point: sa-vitarka, nir-vitarka, sa-vicãra and nir-vicãra, and they are a succession towards an ever-more subtle, singularity of awareness for the mind. In other words, a gradation of stages towards profound awareness through Samãdhi. As such, the emphasis on the diligent praxis of the abhyãsa is what is ultimately going to make the theory of the Sutras a reality for the Yogic adept.



When we turn the corner into the homestretch of Book I, however, the sutras become pretty clear and straightforward again, especially in 1.46, which reads:

tã eva sabijah samãdhih  1.46

Or,

Those/they (four types of Samãdhi from above) are the Samãdhi "with seed".  1.46

tãh, or the plural of tah, which means "they/those" (with the possible exception of being singular, feminine "it")...and it refers then to sa-vitarka, nir-vitarka, sa-vicãra and nir-vicãra Samãdhih, and these are given the designation being sa-bija, or with seed. (If you have been following the logic of Patañjali, you will be anticipating that there should be a nir-bijah Samãdhih lurking around the corner, which we will see there in fact is!)

Now, the fun thing about innovative thinkers is that they innovate. The frustrating about innovative thinkers is also that they innovate...and they use words in their own special way, such as sa-bija...

It is not entirely clear what Patañjali means by "with seed" and later with nir-bijah "without seed" and as a result, there has been quite a bit of speculation on this seemingly innocuous term.

The general consensus is that sa-bijah Samãdhih is inferior, or tainted as compared with nir-bijah Samãdhi, which has led to the further consensus that sa-bija must mean that "with seed" will ultimately flourish into fruit, which shall then cause desire or aversion to the fruits of an action or process, in this case, Samãdhi. In other words, if there is a result, a fruition of our Samãdhi, it still means that we are doing it for a purpose, or have some residual attachment, which as we saw in the beginning, leads to suffering...So, we may be close to a release, or moksha, from this suffering, but not quite.

Let's go on a bit further with 1.47-50, which all deal with the nature of the four types of sa-bijah Samãdhi.

They read:

nirvicãra-vaishãradye 'dhyãtma-prasãdah  1.47
ritam-bharã tatra prajñã  1.48
shrutãnumãna-prajñãbhyãm anya-vishayã visheshãrthatvãt  1.49
taj-jah samskãro 'nya-samskãra-pratibandhi  1.50

Giving us:

Upon mastery of nirvicãra (Samãdhi), there is profound clarity in the Soul. 1.47

At that point, understanding bears the Truth. 1.48

Because of its specific objectivity, it is different from other objects known through sacred scriptures, inference and learning. 1.49

Cognitive filters born from that (sa-bijah Samãdhi) are further obstructing of other cognitive filters. 1.50

Okay, we need to do some gentle massaging to extract the meaning into clear language here from the literal translations.

With 1.47 and 1.48, it is already pretty clear. Nirvicãra, the fourth degree of sa-bijah Samãdhih, being the highest, brings with it clarity for the Soul and truthful insight.

With 1.49, we see that within nirvicãra, or cognition beyond rational thought (the Koan of the sound of one hand clapping...), it still has objectivity, the one hand clapping, but because it is a singularity (that is, super-focused upon ONE object), it is still objectivity, no matter how superior it is to all other rational cognition or thinking.

Why?

Samskãrah happens....

When we process information, whether it be through reading books (or Patañjali's Yoga Sutras...meaning he would even say they are not the ultimate source of understanding...), or through inference or even higher education, we create cognitive filters, or samskãrah. Simply put, when we see a flower for the first time, we may have no "flower" samskãrah. But, over time and with experience and repetition, we build up layers of such filters as "red, rose, smell, thorns, bees, love, Spring, beauty..." and so forth that we then apply to the "rose" when we see another one. This is an example of "with seed". In other words, we plant the seed of the concept in our mind's eye, and the fruition, or the flowering of it is when we "see" something that we can relate to those filters, namely, another rose. And, so it goes for everything in our lives. Otherwise, we could not get up in the morning because we would have no cognition of any-THING in our lives.

However, there is still an object and a subject, the See-er and the Seen (and those 2 shall make another important appearance later in Book 4) still rule supreme here in the land of sa-bijah. In the land of the blind, the one-eyed is king. And, for all intents and purposes for Patañjali, sa-bijah Samãdhih is still in the realm of the blind. So, although this is great, and vastly further than 99% of 99% of people could ever hope to obtain through Yoga, Patañjali has one last Ace of his sleeve...nirbijah Samãdhih, the ultimate goal of Yoga, which we saw already in 1.2...It is so ultimate that it transcends itself in words and thoughts...(starting to sound suspiciously like Advaita Vedanta if you ask me...not the dualism that is so rampant when speaking about Yoga...)



Yogas'citta-vritti-nirodhah... 

Circle becomes complete with 1.51, which reads:

tasyãpi nirodhe sarva-nirodhãn-nirbijah samãdhih 1.51

Slam dunk for Patañjali, when we compare 1.2 with the translation of 1.51, which is:

Even in the cessation/temperance of that (sa-bijah Samãdhi/nir-vicãra), due to the cessation/temperance of everything, [there is] nir-bijah Samãdhih.

In other words, from 1.3 up to and including 1.50, we have been making baby steps at first, and then grander steps at the end, learning to deal with the vritti's, or challenges that we face in our daily lives, and then ultimately having taken care of business, arrive at the cusp of a syn-thesis (literal translation of Sam-ã-dhi) of Enlightenment and clarity of the Soul by doing what?

By letting go of even that entire process once we've reached the peak of the mountain...in other words, go beyond even thinking...which ultimately we see in Zen as well...the heir apparent of "dhyãna" as we have seen.

Everything's Zen...

Mic drop...





Sunday, March 25, 2018

Six Not-So-Easy Pieces (YS 1.40-45)

Having taken some time to apply some of the Sutras to my own Vritti's as well as allowing readers to come up for air, time to take another serious plunge into the deep waters of Patañjali, though when we resurface, we will be very close to the other shore towards which he guides us. In Hermann Hesse's novel, Siddhartha, there is a ferryman, Vasudeva, who has lived a full life and ultimately becomes content, with Santosha, to be a simple ferryman, fulfilling his Dharma then by fording the waters of the river that speaks the sacred syllable "OM" for travelers of near and far, with grand and modest journeys ahead of them. Hopefully, through these posts I may humbly serve as your Vasudeva across these flowing sutras...



So, let's us return to the river of words, and remembering the words of Heraclitus, one can never step in the same river twice, lending us to new and uncharted readings each time.

In the previous few Sutras, we found out a variety of ways in which to hone our focus in upon a singularity, and in doing so, bringing the mind into a more luminous state of consciousness as we then further refine our diligent practice (abhyãsa) via profound concentration, or Dhyãna, a term that is going to soon receive a great deal more importance and attention on our path through the Sutras.

What follows in the subsequent 6 Sutras falls more into what might be considered the meta-physical aspect of our Abhyãsa, which merely means that things become a bit more abstract for the moment before we arrive at the highly practical ashtanga of Yoga, or the eight-fold method revealed in the second book/chapter.

For the Time Being, then, let's see what we can tease out of Sutras 1.40-45, and no Time like the Present to dive back in:

Sutra 1.40 reads:

paramãnuparamamahattvãntho'sya vashikãrah  1.40

giving us:

Mastery of this (Dhyãna) extends from the smallest atom to the greatest entity. 1.40

The "asya" in this Sutra is ambiguous as it could be either the one practicing Dhyãna (the Yogi adept) or the Mastery itself. Most translations take it to be the former, but again, grammar does not support this reading very strongly. Sutras connect to one another, and there is no mention of the Yogi at all before this, so to me it is dubious to take it as such. Instead I prefer going back to 1.39, where Dhyãna is the subject, and now the Mastery, or skill in this practice can lead to the experiencing of the very small to the Infinite. This is not too far-fetched for when one is in deep concentration, the physical body can be negligible and the "mind" may indeed "feel" quite small, or on the contrary, Infinite, moving from the physical to the meta-physical, which merely means "next to" or "beyond" the physical.

Having then made that initial step into the meta-physical, we arrive at 1.41:

kshina-vritter-abhijñãtasyeva maner-grahitri-grahana-grãhyesu tat-stha-tad-añjantã samãpattih  1.41

Coming to us as:

Samãpattih, or total absorption of the mind, when the vritti (noise in the mind) is weakened, is like that of a rarefied jewel that is affected by that which placed next to it, whether it be in objects of comprehension, the means to comprehend or the one comprehending an object. 

Boiled down a bit to give us:

Samãpattih, or profound reflection, is like an exquisite jewel that perfectly reflects all that is placed before it, without distinction of being the object of comprehension or the comprehension itself.

And a bit more,

The experience of deep meditation brings undivided clarity to the mind. 




This image of the perfectly reflecting jewel brings something dear to me to mind, that being the concept of Indra's Net, the name of my meta-blog, of which Sanskrit Street is merely a nodal point of. Indra's Net is the meta-physical concept of the Universe being an infinite net, in which at every juncture of the threads, there is a perfect jewel that reflects every other jewel in the Net ad infinitum. In other words, every atom reflects the entire Universe in a cosmic hall of never-ending mirrors. Here, in the Sutras, the mind then is able to reflect the nature of the minutest Quantum of the atomic scale to the Infinity of the Cosmos, leading to a state of Samãdhi,  the ultimate goal of Yoga according to Patañjali.

And, what happens then when this is achieved?

Sutra 1.42 goes further:

tatra shabdãrthajñãnavikalpaih samkirnã savitarkã samãpattih 1.42

Leading to:

At this moment/then, Savitarka Samãpattih (profound meditative state based upon conjecture) is mixed with concepts of the knowledge of the meaning of words. 

Or,

Then, there is a form of profound meditation that is based upon conjecture, which is a result language. 

We've seen vitarka before in 1.17, and sa-vitarka merely means with vitarka, or conjecture. In that Sutra I argued that there are two types of meditation discussed there, vitarka and vicara, which is borne out here as Asmitã and Ãnanada are no longer mentioned, but rather vitarka and vicara are broken down further.

So, listening to the language itself, namely the words of the Sutras, we see that our verbal storehouse of ideas can influence our meditation practice, and our Yogic Abhyãsa. This is when we put names to things, but that is arbitrary and artificial as words are merely placeholders for the objects themselves. What we call a "rose" is only a "rose" because we call it that and remember that from learning the word and its meaning, and then if we meditate upon a "rose" the meaning of the word will influence our experience, but we shall be stuck in the language of humans. However, while that is all well and good, to go beyond the words shall render an even more powerful experience as seen in 1.43, which reads:

smriti-parishuddhau svarupa-shunyevãrtha-mãtra-nirbhãsã nivitarkã 1.43

Giving us,

Nivitarka, (thought devoid of concepts) shines forth when the memory is purged, as if the object is without form, and only meaning remains. 

Which more or less means,

When we let go of names/words, we can experience something as it truly is.

This concept is central to Taoism and Zen Buddhism in that as soon as we name something, or explain it, we have lost it, and those who understand it, cannot explain it, and those who explain it, cannot understand it, providing a very nasty paradox indeed! This is the basis of many koans, such as the one about what is the "sound of one hand clapping"? To explain it, loses it.

Patañjali here presents this very conundrum with our attachment and memory of words for things, which we then confuse with their meaning, or very essence (svarupa). When we TRY to focus our attention with profound concentration, we are encumbered by our memory of words, concepts and ideas that bombard us constantly throughout the day and our life. The temperance of the mind, the nirodhah of the vritti's then again is the attempt to clear the noise from the mind.

And, furthermore, the aspect of rational deliberation, or vicara is a great tool, up to a point. But, at a certain point, THINKING about something won't get you there, but rather becomes a hinderance as well.

1.44 merely implies that sa-vicara is good, but ni-vicara is better, though without further analysis, perhaps even a cheeky example of Patañjali not explaining something because to do so would to limit the meaning! Perhaps.

So, we read:

etayaiva savicãrã nivicãrã ca sukshmavishayã vyãkhyãtã 1.44

Or,

In this same way, sa-vicãrã and ni-vicãrã, whose objects are of a subtle nature, are explained. 

In other words, rational thought about abstract ideas is surpassed by the koan way of thinking, namely beyond reason. We can only think so far before we paint ourselves into a corner. There is an acronym for this in English: KISS, or Keep It Simple Stupid. We can overthink things, and this is Patañjali's caveat for that.

So, having refined our diligent practice of profound concentration, and if we are successful in letting go of our attachment to words and their meanings (1.40-42) and then furthermore realize, in the lines of Kant, we can only know an approximation of the mystery of the Universe through rational thought, and we can let go of overthinking it (1.44), then we arrive at 1.45, which reads:

sukshma-vishatvam cãlinga-paryavasãnm 1.45

Or,

The Subtleness of reality (mystery?) results in the absence of definition. 1.45

Simply put,

The nature of reality is beyond our mortal comprehension.

This leaves us at a meta-physical crossroads then. With some, such as Heinrich Von Kleist, who is said to have suffered a Kant-krisis (a crisis having read Kant) when he realized that one can never TRULY know anything, leads to paralysis of action and thought, while with others, this is the ultimate act of Surrender to Ishvara, the Higher Power of the Universe, which can only be approximated by the intonation of the sacred syllable "A-U-M", and that surrender provides a profound sense of freedom, or release (moksha), which in short, is what we are after!

And, now, we are on the doorstep of what Yoga is for Patañjali.

Stay Tuned...














Friday, March 16, 2018

Methods to [End] the Madness (YS. 1.33-39)


As we previously saw, Patañjali may have a singular goal in mind for Yoga, but he is much more open-minded when it comes down to how exactly one might reach that goal. The remainder of the first chapter/section of the Yoga Sutras commonly called "Samãdhi" is devoted to this process and suggested methods in which one can effect these changes of Life via the Mind, known as Yoga, and ultimately what that goal is.

However, for the present, the following 7 sutras now provide such options or methods to precede with our diligent practice, or Abhyãsa that has been discussed in previous sutras and consequent posts.

Turning then to 1.33, we see that the right attitude is crucial, and furthermore, the appropriate attitude for the situation is what is called for here:

maiti-karunã-muditã-apekshãyãm
sukha-duhkha-punya-apunya-vishayãnãm
bhãvanãtad-citta-prasãdanam                      1.33



Giving us the advice that:

Clarity of mind comes from the attitude/disposition of being amicable to those (things/people) that are pleasant, compassion for suffering, joy for virtue and equanimity towards the non-virtuous.  1.33

Simply put,

Temper your reactions to suit the situation or person, but in the worst-case, remain equanimous, and this will bring clarity or lucidity to our state of mind.

You can pay a psychoanalysis quite a bit of money for similar advice these days, buy self-help books, and empower yourself, but ultimately it usually comes down to this simple fact suggested here; namely, the way we respond, rather than react is a powerful tool for the mind's well-being and clear vision for the circumstances we encounter.

Moving along, we now encounter a list of 6 alternatives for helping refine our singularity of diligent practice, having the proper mind-set in place.

On to 1.34, we read:

pracchardana-vidhãrnãbhyãm vã prãnasya 1.34

Or, by way of breath retention (later to be known as prãnãyama in book II). 1.34

Though the actual method of breath control is not elaborated upon here, this is one of our first glimpses into the 8-fold path that is immanent in book II, which explains the Yogic abhyãsa, or diligent practice in detailed steps, with Prãnãyama being the fourth.

1.35 gives us:

vishayavati vã pravrittir-utpannã manasah sthiti-nibandhani  1.35

that is,

Or, an activity can arise, which has an intended object, and cause steadiness of mind. 1.35

One of those less-than-clear sutras here, and you will find a whole range of variations on translations and interpretations.

In all honesty, I need to reflect on this sutra more before offering a comfortable translation, much less commentary...so, with that in mind...

1.36 is a bit more straightforward, with:

vishokã vã jyothismati  1.36

Being free from sorrow, one is luminous. 1.36

Although duhkham, or suffering is not used here, vishokã is a close synonym, meaning being in a state absent of sorrow. Not quite happiness either, as that too is temporary. However, one can be brilliant and radiant in this state when the obstacles of sorrow are removed.

vitã-rãga-vishayam vã cittam.   1.37

Or, a mind comprising an object devoid of desire/passion.  1.37

This is, more or less, vairãgyam, which we have looked at in more detail. Again, for all intents and purposes, this is not to become numb to the world without feelings, but rather to not identify with the feelings/passions/desires that become associated with objects, for those are temporary and lead to confusion. The object in and of itself is not "bad" per se, but it is how we let it affect us that can lead our mind astray. A temperance of this is what is asked for here.

As someone who goes after things "with a passion" I have been at odds with such sentiment, yet, I do see the great merit in it as well. Some advice we know might be good for us, but our mind is quite persuasive to tell us otherwise. 1.37 might fall into that category for many of us, no? Just thinking out loud.

Once again, pre-dating Freud by nearly 2,000 years, we se in 1.38:

svapna-nidrã-jñãna-ãlambanam vã  1.38

giving us:

Or, wisdom arising from sleep and dreams.   1.38

Here, again grammar is tricky as we are missing a few clues as to what this agrees with. Most likely, it agrees with the cittam from the previous sutra, meaning the Mind that is calmed by the singularity of the abhyãsa. But, always the caveat that we cannot over assume certain things, and further reflection may be in order. Nonetheless, this is interesting in the fact of suggesting that dreams can in fact serve as portals to wisdom (jñãna), though also, when deceptive can be the very vrittih that needs to be calmed.

And, finally, with 1. 39:

yathã-abhimata-dhyãnãd vã  1.39

as

As such, also from the desired intense concentration. 1.39

It needs to be noted here that abhimata, or desired, does not mean the same as the desire that comes from rãga, or the thirst for material goods or from spiritual dearth, but rather, it is the imagined form of concentration, or dhyãna that we seek to intensify and support our diligent practice.

The take-home message of this swath of sutras is that Patañjali is given us options, a variety of methods with which we can use as tools to help still the mind's fluctuations. Again, not to stop or nullify them, which I still contend is impossible, or rather is not a veritable goal, but to gain focus and clarity, and then to be able to confront Life with such clear and discrete vision. And, for that, we shall see in the coming sutras what that shall mean for us...












Tuesday, March 13, 2018

Detours of the Mind's Eye (YS 1.30-32)

In the previous Sutras we found out the potential source/reason for the omnipresence of OM/AUM within our modern practice, despite the fact that the original inspiration of chanting it has become rather mundane and banal in comparison. Nonetheless, it was seen as a profound tuning in so that we could then remove the distractions of the mind to engage in a pointed Yoga meditation practice, something that can be translated to our ãsana-based practice as well as daily challenges we meet on and off of the mat.

So, let's now take a look at the following three Sutras together to see what those distractions are, and then how do we deal with them?

vyãdhi-styãna-samshaya-pramãda-ãlasya-avirati-bhrãnti-darshana-alabdha-bhumikatva-anavasthitatvãni citta-vikshepãs-te'antarãyãh     1.30

Or,

Disease, inertia, doubt, negligence, sloth, intemperance, confusion, perception, lack of deep foundation and instability are the distractions of the mind.  1.30

This is what Patañjali looks like when he is providing a list of things, not as is contorted in the traditional commentaries and translations of 1.16-19 as we saw previously. Again, grammar speaks, and when you make a compound list, it has to be in the plural form as we see here. In 1.16, it is singular and begs to be taken as a different type of compound (Sanskrit has three main types of compounds, each clearly with a different grammatical structure).

1.30, despite its seemingly difficulty as being one long compound, is very simple and straightforward. It is a listing of 9 distractions or disturbances that can affect the mind and hinder one's practice. Moreover, this is a case in which the Yoga Sutras could have easily been written yesterday because all 9 distractions are human, all-too-human. Any sound familiar as to why you did not make it on the mat one day or to your regular meditation?

Vyãdhi: <<vyadh??>>disease, illness, disorder
Styãna: <<styai>>  inertia, lethargy, languor
Samshaya: doubt, hesitation
Pramãda: madness, intoxication, negligence
ãlasya: sloth, lack of energy
Avirati: intemperance,
Bhrãnti: <<bhram>> wandering, confusion, false perception
Darshana: <<drish>> perception, view, perspective
Alabdha-bhumika-tva: state of non -obtainment of a fundament/depth
Anavasthita-tva: (an-ava-<<sthã>>-tva) state of instability

Each one of these can plague us on any given day, and they can be acute or chronic depending upon our ability to deal with them, medical conditions or life merely getting in the way. Again, Patañjali is not saying anything that we don't already know ourselves, but merely bringing it to our attention, for that is the true nature of a Yoga practice, to identify the problem and then to try and work on it, by practice, with diligence.

Furthermore, some physical debilities can accompany the mental as we see in 1.31:

Duhkha-daurmanasya-angam-ejayatva-shvãsa-prashvãsã vikshepa-saha-bhuvah  1.31

Or,

Suffering, despair, trembling of limbs and disturbances of inhalation and exhalation accompany these distractions.  1.31

My beloved first Yoga teacher, Bekir, who passed away last year, used to say when our legs were shaking that coffee, red wine, and nicotine were often the culprits! Inter alia...

So, how do we combat these nine demons of the mind and body that inhibit our practice and likewise our progress with a Yoga practice (or, any other such endeavor in life)?

The following Sutra, 1.32, sets up the solution in general, followed by a listing of specific ways in which to effect this solution as we shall look at in the next post.

For now, turning 1.32, we see:

Tat-pratishedha-artham-eka-tattva-abhyãsah  1.32

Diligent practice with a singular focus is for the sake of negating these (distractions). 1.32

To wit,

Singularity in practice negates the disturbances of the mind and body. 1.32

Yoga is not about multi-tasking emails and to-do lists and posting pictures of far-out ãsanas, but rather focusing upon the here and now, and only the here and now. Ultimately, by way of Dhyãna (as we shall see later) morphing into Zen, this may be something as simple as washing the dishes or sweeping the floor, but with full attention to what one is doing. This passage is arguably the root of modern-day trends of Mindfulness. Do what you do with your utmost attention and you shall overcome the stagnation of the mind and body that hinders your daily practice. Sound advice. Simple advice. Difficult to put into praxis for the very distractions listed in 1.30. In other words, the only obstacles for clearing the obstacles of 1.30 are those very obstacles themselves.

The way that we escape this scenario of the cat chasing its own tail is to refine our focus within our practice, and Patañjali gives us some options in the subsequent Sutras as we shall see next time.

For now, we prepare the mind for the task. Imagine the distractions are the beeps and blips of R2D2 for Luke, who cannot shut them out, but for Master Yoda (sounds suspiciously like Yoga, don't you think? But, moreover, Yodha in Sanskrit means "warrior" hmmm...coincidence, or more like Vader means father in Dutch?), single-pointed concentration gets the job done...


May the Force of Yoga be with you...








Sunday, March 11, 2018

OMG: OM, My God! (YS 1.23-29)

Why do we chant OM/AUM in a Yoga class in the 21st century in Belgium, or the United States, or chose your location...?  Why does Don Draper close Mad Men chanting OM in the finale? How did this become such an integral and integrated part of the Yoga world, milieu and sorry to be jaded, but business? I dare you to find a tattoo artist in a major urban area who has not at least been asked to tattoo an "OM" at some point on some body part. It is like Leopold Bloom in James Joyce's Ulysses wondering if you can cross Dublin without passing a pub...



So, where does this ubiquitous syllable come from?

OM/AUM (read more on the difference between OM/AUM here) by itself has long been considered the sacred syllable because when intoned properly according to the Vedas and Upanishads, it begins with the deepest level of sound, the "A" in the base of the diaphragm and emanates up through the thoracic cavity, past the tongue with "U" and culminates in the nasal humming with "M", transcending into silence afterwards. It is traditionally used to initiate and to conclude chants, hymns and various texts throughout the history of Indian thought, religion and philosophy. It finishes the familiar recitation of "Shantih" or "Peace" with "Shanti, Shanti, Shanti-hi" (that final "i-hi" is grammatical, btw), which is a common form of saying "Amen" in Sanskrit.

But, specifically, with Yoga, in the Sutras 1.23-29, we see a much more detailed reason, one that may attract or repel people when you know more about it. So, spoiler alert! Do you want to go down this rabbit hole with me?

If so, let's go.

After discussing the two-fold role of Abhyãsa and Vairãgyam, and with my argument that these were still the subject of the previous 6 sutras, then 1.23 makes a lot of sense.

Let's look:

Ishvarapranidhãnãdvã 1.23

Broken down, it is: Ishvara-, pranidhanãd and .

Three simple words, but as we have seen, three words can mean a lot in Sutras. And, not to make it dull, but grammar has to be respected here. Let's give it its due respect.

Ishvara-pranidhanãd is a compound, but the ending/suffix/case is what is interesting. It is an ablative (which means: because of, due to, or from) with the -ãd  (NB: originally -ãt, but changes when it comes before the following "v") form. Innocuous enough on its own, except for the two-letter conjunction that follows, namely , which means "or". Where there is an "or" there has to be an implied "either" somewhere, and that where is in Sutra 1.17, with the word anugamãt in conjunction with samprajñãtah. Commentaries and translations alike for centuries seem to ignore this, almost blindly and take samprajñãtah to be the subject (as Samãdhi) rather than qualifying anugamãt. What that means is that we can read it as "it (param vairãgyam) is recognized/known BECAUSE of being accompanied by ..." and then move to 1.23, the next ablative to read "Or, BECAUSE of a devotion to Ishvara". Otherwise, 1.23 seems to come out of nowhere. Again, if it makes sense in the original, it has to make sense in the translation.

So, what to do with Ishvara? This is where some people stop reading the Sutras because the most common translation for Ishvara is...God. And, that is a shame. God invokes and evokes the paternal, old Man, deity upstairs who has all sorts of hang-ups about morality and ethics and Sin and so forth. Ishvara means none of these such things. The Yoga Sutras are not about religion, nor morality, nor God...they are about life and how to live it, and more importantly how to deal with suffering, or Duhkham.

Ishvara is a rare word, and seems somewhat idiosyncratic for Patañjali to be fair. But, what does it really mean? More or less, the best translation is "the Higher Power of the Universe". This can be whatever that may be...Brahma, Shiva, Krishna, Shakti, Kali, the Mother, the Supreme Atman, the OverSoul...and so forth. It is not strictly an anthropomorphic concept. It is the Ultimate Power of the Cosmos. That is something I can get into, how about you?

So, if you are still with me, let's continue and see how this brings us back to OM, Sweet OM...

Taking the next 3 Sutras together, we get one step closer to OM.

Klesha-karma-vipãka-ãshayair-aparãmrishthah purusha-visheshah  1.24
Tatra niratishãyam sarvaja-bijam    1. 25
Sa esha purveshãm-api gurus kãlena-anavacchedãt 1.26

Or,

Ishvara is a distinguished Soul/entity untouched/unsullied by the storehouses of the consequences of actions (and) obstacles (of Yoga).  1.24
Within Ishvara, the omniscient seed is beyond measure. 1.25
Because of not being limited by Time, Ishvara is also the Guru of the ancients 1.26

Meaning, in short,

Ishvara is the pure, Supreme Power of the Cosmos, beyond reproach by actions and obstacles, omnipotent and transcending Time, being the Teacher for all the ages.



We find a comparison of this in the Bhagavad Gita, when Arjuna asks Krishna how he could be the teacher of Yoga for the Ancients such as Vivasvat (BG 4.1-4) if they came before Krishna. Krishna, being considerate of Arjuna's inability to comprehend that Krishna is not a mere human charioteer, but is in fact the entire Cosmos, as is Ishvara, replies that he remembers all of his births, and furthermore:

ajo'pi sannavyayãtmã bhutãnãmishvaro'pi san
prakritim svãmadhishthãya sambhavamyãtmamãyayã  (BG 4.6)

Or,

Although I am without birth, the unchangeable Self and being Lord/Supreme Power (Ishvara) of all beings, I control my own Nature, existing through the power of Myself.

As Ishvara then, Krishna too is beyond Time and ultimately the Teacher/Guru of the Ancients of all times.

Again, the term Ishvara is rather rare and is somewhat vague as it does not refer to any specific deity such as Brahma, Shiva, Vishnu and so forth, and in both cases here, it is related to the Ultimate Yoga Guru who transcends Time and literally exists only because of its own Will to Be(com)-ing.

Back to the Sutras then, we introduce Ishvara's relationship to OM.

tasya vãcakah pranavah   1.27
taj-japas-tad-artha-bhãvanam   1.28
tatah pratyak-cetana-adhigamo' py-antarãyãbhavãshcha  1.29

Giving us:

And, the distinguishing sound of Ishvara is OM (pranavah). 1.27
Repetitive chanting of OM is the realization of its goal.   1.28
From doing this, self-conscious contemplation is achieved, as well as the absence of obstacles (for Yoga).  1.29

In short,

Repetitiously chanting OM/AUM, the sacred syllable of Ishvara, achieving its goal of initiating profound self-contemplation and removes obstacles for Yoga. 

And, there you have it!

As Yoga became more "mainstream" for lack of a better word, the OM was carried along with the package. Previously, however, chanting OM was a profound tuning into the Self or Soul by uniting with Ishvara, the Higher Power of the Universe, in order to remove the obstacles (which we discover in the next Sutra, 1.30) in order to engage in intense meditation, ultimately becoming Samãdhi as the eighth limb of Yoga according to Patañjali.

OM was the catalyst, or the seed crystal, for Samãdhi.

To chant OM then was to demarcate one's Self from separation from the Higher Power to one with reverence and union with Ishvara. It was a process of bringing the individual together with the collective consciousness.

No short order for such a seemingly simple syllable.

A beautiful and sonorous OM (or 3) at the end of a good Yoga class can really bring the room together (nod to the Cohen Brothers...). A lethargic, flat OM can leave one feeling a bit deflated. If you chose to use OM within a Yoga class, either as a teacher or a practitioner, it might be worth the moment's pause to consider the profundity of its origins, rather than just going through the motions, and again, choosing to use it or not, do so with a modicum of awareness.

Then, to come full circle, the "vã" from 1.23 means that Param Vairãgyam is accomplished either by the stages of diligent practice and a refined disinterest of desires, OR by devotion to the Higher Power by chanting OM, wrapping up 1.17-29 quite nicely, both grammatically and in meaning.

Just a thought.

OM...














Friday, March 9, 2018

Knowing Our Asmitã from Our Elbow (YS 1.17-22)



Danger Will Robinson, Danger…!

When I teach a Yoga class, one of the things I like to say is that there is no One Size Fits All in Yoga…and as we shall see, I think that holds true for the Yoga Sutras.

Okay, as mentioned previously, sometimes the Yoga Sutras are startling clear and lucid, while at other times, they can be quite opaque and murky. Sutras 1.17-22 are just such an example of the latter. I am going to be going notionally rogue on this post and make a few major departures from the traditional translations and interpretations of these Sutras as a result. Having read about 7 different translations and checking Vyãsa’s commentary, only one thing is certain about this handful of Sutras, namely, No-thing. There is no general consensus at all, so I am going to do something crazy here, and that is, to just look at the Sanskrit and see what it says. So, again, bear with me. This is a work in progress.

Let’s begin (again).



With the last few Sutras (YS 1.12-16) we learned about the two-pronged method of Abhyãsa and Vairãgyam as a means for obtaining the nirodhah, or temperance/cessation of the vritti’s, the mental fluctuations of the mind as per Patañjali’s definition that this is the goal of Yoga. In 1.16, we see that the highest form of that, (vairãgyam) is the absence of desire/thirst of the gunas for the perception of the Soul. In other words, transcending any prejudices we may have of an object or experience, we can still the noise in the mind.

Yet, suddenly, in 1.17, the text seems to skip to an entirely new concept, or at least according to the commentaries, but not necessarily the Sanskrit. In the commentary, it is said that (Samprajñah) Samãdhi, the final stage of the ashtanga system of Patañjali (to be discussed in detail in chapter II) is the subject, not vairãgyam. This doesn’t jibe with me, nor the language.

Let’s take a look at the actual words, not the interpretation for a moment. Here are 1.17-20, because semantically, the function more like a quatrain, rather than individual thoughts, which would be more in line with the method of writing Sutras. So, here it goes.

Vitarkavicãrãnandãsmitãrupãnugamãt samprajñãtah  1.17
Virãmaprtyayãbhyãsapurvah samskãrashesho’anyah  1.18
Bhavapratyayo videhaprakritilayãnãm   1.19
Shraddhãviryasmritisamãdhitprajñãpurvaka itareshãm  1.20

Before translating, a quick note on structure, which is going to inform my translation, and that will be the cause of me going quite rogue from the tradition. Without bogging you down with details, from the grammar, we see two parallel constructions: 1.17 and 1.18 are a case of “on the one hand…on the other hand” and then furthermore 1.17 seems (and I mean seems as it is not clear) to go with 1.19 and 1.18 with 1.20.  So,…

A trial:
On the one hand, it (supreme vairãgyam) is recognized/characterized as being accompanied by the Ego’s (asmitã) delight (ãnanda) in rational deliberation (vicãra) and conjecture (vitarka). 1.17
And, on the other hand, it is characterized as a residue of impressions of previous diligent practice (abhyãsa) of the cessation of analysis (in other words, cittavrittinirodaha…that is Yogah). 1.18

Pause.

Okay, this may seem innocent enough, but, anyone who knows the traditional interpretation of these two lines just blew a gasket…

Vyãsa, the main commentator of the Sutras (and every other Sanskrit work, meaning, it is not a real person as Vyãsa means “editor” or “compiler”) says the subject now is Samãdhi, and that is how it has been taken for centuries upon centuries. This would not be so troublesome if the theory that this Vyãsa might actually be Patañjali himself, meaning, the commentary is by the author.

As such, the usual translation interprets this as Samprajña Samãdhi as having four stages: conjecture, deliberation, bliss and Ego-awarenes. Fine, but coming from Patañjali, a writer who loves to define things as we have seen and will see again, there is no mention of Samãdhi here, and then furthermore, no mention of a-Samprajñã Samãdhi, which is how 1.18 is taken…Does not seem to work for me, at all. It is much more logical that this is a continuation of thought from 1.15-16, that being the param vairãgyam, or highest level of relinquishing our desire/thirst for material objects and their effects.

So, now that Vyãsa is properly turning in his grave, let’s continue with 1.19-20:

For those absorbed in disembodied materialism, [there is] the notion of becoming.  1.19
For others, [there is] a previous knowledge of the synthesis (samãdhi) of a vigorous memory of Faith (shraddhã).  1.20

What the…?

Because of the grammar, again, these lines can be interpreted/translated completely differently, but, there are some subtle clues that suggest otherwise, which I will not bore you with the details (you can write me personally, then I’ll bore you with them!). In a follow-up post, I will provide a few of these variations, but for clarity, let us continue as is.

Let’s turn all of this into readable language then, because that is my two-fold goal: to make the Sutras readable and relevant, while also sticking to the Sanskrit as much as possible and not getting mired in the Theory that has been piled upon them over the years. Occam’s Razor, the theory the suggests the simplest answer is the correct one, is being applied here by me. So, we shall cut into this and then suture it up with clarity.

So,

The highest form of vairãgyam for those absorbed in the thought of non-materialism, there is a sense of becoming (being) that is characterized by the Ego’s delight in rational analysis and conjecture. 1.17 and 1.19
For others, there is the strong memory of the notion of Faith, and vairãgyam is the residue of impressions (our filters/prejudices) from quieting the fluctuations of the mind. 1.18 and 1.20

In other, other words.

We can achieve the highest form of releasing our desire for materialism through engaging in deep thought (meditation) on the nature of being, and this may result in leaving a trace of our diligent practice of Yoga.

Meaning,

We meditate, via Yoga, and we can achieve the release of our desires, which are the causes of our suffering and mental anguish.

Maybe. Again, this is MY interpretation and translation, and it flies smack in the face of the tradition, but it holds to my caveat for translation: if it made sense in the original, it has to make sense in the target language. None of the translations I have read make sense, and they are full of side trips and mental gymnastics to pull meanings out of these 4 Sutras that simply are not there in the Sanskrit, neither in vocabulary, nor grammar.

Taking this leap of Faith (shraddhã) then, the next two Sutras actually now make sense (as do the subsequent seven Sutras we shall look at in a forthcoming post), and they are:

Tivrasamvegãnamãnnah  1.21
Mridumadhyãdhimãtratvãt  1.22

Or,

For those with keen intensity (in praxis), (this), [that is vairãgyam]) is immanent.  1.21
For others, there is still a distinction due to the degrees (of intensity of praxis) of mild, medium and excessive. 1.22

Meaning,

For those with strong practice, the goal is near; but for others, with varying degrees of effort, there is still a difference in degree of attainment.

Coming back to the thought that, there is no one size fits all for Yoga. There will be a variety of paths, a variety of practitioners and a variety of methods. We are not all at the same place in our practice, and according to Patañjali here, as far as I can read it, that is perfectly natural and is to be expected.

Moreover, going back further to the previous concept of Abhyãsa, it will only bear fruit with a reverence for diligence over an extended period of Time, and the milder the effort, the longer that period of Time will be; but, as we shall also see in chapter III, TOO MUCH is just as dangerous as not enough. Once again, we must find the balance, find the union, find the Yoga…

…To be continued.