asterix

*Am working on figuring out the best way to render Devanagari. For now, transliteration...sorry. Namaste.
Showing posts with label Ishvara. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ishvara. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 4, 2018

Theory Into Praxis, Beginning the Begin (YS 2.1-2)

Having meticulously built up the overarching "goal" of Yoga in Book One on Samãdhi, that is, of bringing the noise within the mind, which is caused by internal and external challenges, into a sense of tranquility by various means, ultimately leading to the stillness of the Self, Patañjali then switches gears quite significantly with Book Two. The sea change of thought that we see in Book Two, nominally known as the section on Sãdhana, or Practice, is specifically one from Theory to Praxis. In other words, we know the "What?" of Yoga, now we move onto the practicality of "How?"



How do we then become a Yogi according to Patañjali? That is the question that is answered in the following 55 sutras. Moreover, it is a highly relevant to our modern world's problems and challenges, no less than it was centuries ago. The advice given in the following sutras are about the human condition, irrespective of Time, Place, Age or Gender. These are things that as humans, we shall all face at one time in our lives or another. Some of us more, some of less so, but we shall all experience obstacles. This then is a guidebook to help get past them. And, I stress, it is "a" guidebook, not "the" guidebook. It is not for everyone, and we shall find different paths and different guidebooks or shall forge our own paths and write our own guidebooks.

The healthiest way to proceed through Book Two then is merely to take it as good advice.

So, let's turn the page and begin.

The chapter (and, again, the chapter sections have been interpolated later and are not original, so far as we know) starts with:

tapah-svãdhyãya-ishvara-pranidhãnãni kriyã-yogah  2.1

Or,

Kriyã Yoga is comprised of austerity (discipline), self-study and reverence for Ishvara.

Very straightforward as this is a mere listing of the three components of Kriyã Yoga, or the Yoga of Action according to Patañjali. Right away we see that the topic is moving from the introspective navel-gazing of Book One to action.

Tapah, or austerity, is traditional associated with rites and rituals, but can also mean something more akin to (self)-discipline. We are reminded here of the necessity for Abhyãsa, or diligent practice that we read about in Book One. Tapah is a form of this Abhyãsa as it also carries a sense of reverence with it, which is then extended to Ishvara-pranidhãna, or reverence/devotion towards Ishvara, whom/which we have also already seen as the ambiguous symbol for a universal Higher Power. The trinity then here is made complete with Sva-Adhyãya, or Self-study. This three-fold reverence then can be seen at the social level with tapah, the personal with svãdhyãya and the universal with Ishvara-pranidhãnani.

As such, it is important than for the aspiring Yogi to not only be aware of the Self, but also the world and ultimately universe at large. It is very easy to lose track of this when one pursues something so personal as Yoga, or any other quest for self-realization, and so right away, with the Yoga of Action, we are advised to not put on the blinders that come with such quests, but rather put it all into context. If we act, we do not merely act for ourselves, but, like the metaphor of the stone being thrown into the still water, the ripples extend out to society and throughout the Universe. Keeping this in mind, we can continue with our Sãdhana, putting our spiritual money with our theoretical mouth is.

Moving onto 2.2 then, we read:

samãdhi-bhãvana-arthah klesha-tanu-karana-arthash-ca  2.2

Giving us,

The goal/purpose (of Kriyã Yogah) is for bringing about samãdhi and for making the klesha's (obstacles/afflictions) weak.

In other words, we do Kriyã Yoga to bring about full integration or synthesis (samãdhi) of our practice and to lessen the effects of the obstacles in life that plague us on a daily basis.

In the Bhagavad Gita, according to Krishna's advice to Arjuna, there are also a variety of ways to pursue the path of Yoga, more specifically, with three main types of Yoga being: Karma (Action), Jñãna (Wisdom) and Bhakti (Devotion). These map nearly perfectly onto Patañjali here with the pairings: Tapah-Karma, Svãdhyãya-Jñãna and Pranidhãna-Bhakti, echoing the multivalent nature of the path and practice.

So, we are ready to start our journey. There is a destination (yes, there is, despite modern/Western denial of that with Yoga...it is not as willy-nilly, freestyle as is often taught) and now there is a map that we can use.

And, again, keeping in mind that the best way to continue on this journey with Patañjali is to see how we can make this relevant in today's world, and to seek out any good advice he may have to offer us. An open mind can take one quite far...

Onwards. The vastness of Self-discovery awaits...


















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...