Adhikāra

Before a student can appropriately receive practices that will move them along the path of yoga, they must be willing and ready. This willingness and readiness is related to the adhikāra of the student. I first learned this word as “studentship,” as in the degree of aspiration one had, as well as the proclivities of the student. One could be tepid or lackadaisical, or somewhat motivated with moderate studentship, or a very intense and dedicated practitioner (for example, see YS 1.22). One could be more open and receptive to different perspectives, or more rigid in their thinking.

In the yoga tradition, adhikāra relates to who is entitled, eligible, or qualified to receive a practice. For example, it was customary during earlier eras like Upaniṣadic times, that most practices were restricted to Brahmin men. Others were not entitled and seen as ineligible. A different and much less restrictive perspective is that adhikāra relates to the degree to which a student is prepared, ready, and interested in receiving practices and teachings. In part, this has to do with the capacity of one’s awareness and receptivity. Adhikāra relates to how a student should take the first and subsequent steps on the path of yoga, given their current degree of evolution of consciousness, which is related to the degree of śaktipāta they’ve received.

It is useful to think about this in other domains of practice and study. For example, the system of yoga in which I started had a well-established sequence of yoga āsanas, and one did not progress to a more advanced level until they displayed competence in the previous level, and were, therefore, ready to move forward. This is true in many domains of study, like mathematics, wherein one must first become proficient in fundamental concepts before receiving more advanced concepts. In both cases there is a sequence that is useful to follow.

Likewise, in the domain of consciousness particular practices are more or less appropriate for particular individuals, depending on the progress of the practitioner along the path of yoga. Many may sincerely wish for more advanced practices, though they are not prepared and may not have the capacity to receive the benefits, given their current state of awareness. Some say that advanced practices given to someone who is not ready for them can be harmful. More likely the practices just won’t be effective, which can be discouraging to a student. Often it requires a previous practice of meditation to properly “prime” the practitioner for other ancillary practices to be most effective.

Adhikāra has a lot to do with the aspiration of the student. The student must first want to step into the journey of yoga and be receptive to seeking out a teacher. For example, throughout the Bhagavad Gītā, Arjuna seeks guidance from Kṛṣṇa by asking progressively more astute questions, signaling his readiness and capacity to receive more. Adhikāra is reflected in students’ prior cultivation of their practice and study, so that the ground of their awareness is properly prepared for the seeds of further practices and teachings to flourish.

REFLECT AND EXPLORE

Write down your definition of adhikāra.

How have you seen your adhikāra play out on your path of yoga?

Have you ever had a teacher dissuade you in some way from moving into a more advanced practice? What do you think about that?

Consider these attributes of adhikāra: receptivity, fluidity, curiosity, groundedness, regularity, dedication, stamina, commitment, aspiration, degree of knowledge or awareness. What other attributes of adhikāra do you think are important?

Specifically consider your own adhikāra regarding any of the above listed (or other) attributes:

– which best describes you?

– which you tend toward?

– which you feel you need to cultivate more?

Hanuman and Jambavan

Hanuman is a character who is revered for his devotion and service to the divine. However, in his childhood and youth, he was quite precocious and sometimes acted in ways that were mischievous and even dangerous. On one such occasion he was knocked unconscious by Indra, which upset his father Vayu, the wind, who withdrew the prāṇa from the world. To appease Vayu and avoid suffocation, the Gods bestowed upon Hanuman a number of yogic powers.

Hanuman is often associated with bhakti yoga, or love of the divine, and he figures prominently in the great Indian epic, the Ramayana, in which he is devoted to his Beloved Rama and Sita. When Sita was captured by the demon Ravana and held in Sri Lanka, the rescue parties who gathered on the shores of India were consternated as to how or who had the ability to traverse the ocean to save Sita.

In this moment, Jambavan, a great friend of Hanuman’s, stepped forward to remind Hanuman of his yogic powers and ability to conquer the task. Jambuvan tells Hanuman his life story and of his great powers. Hanuman then gathers up his power to make the leap, thereby reuniting Ram and Sita. Hence the yoga posture bearing his name is Hanumanasana (also known as the splits).

This story teaches us the beauty of companionship and of a spiritual community, called the kula or saṅgha. Fellow practitioners are each a kalyāṇa–mitra. Kalyāṇa means “beautiful, virtuous, or good,” and mitra is a “friend,” so kalyāṇa–mitra refers to a spiritual friend, companion on a spiritual path, a friend of virtue, or a good counselor. And the kula, the collection of spiritual friends, is greater than each of our individual selves. Each brings the gift of their own experience, their spiritual knowledge. This is a wonderful teaching about how as friends in community we can all encourage each other and ourselves to bring our gifts forward. For this to be successful, of course, the community members have to be actively practicing and studying, not just being passive recipients of the teachings.

It is interesting to consider relationships we’ve been in, and how they led to further growth in life. Sometimes we need someone else to remind us of our greatness, and sometimes our friends simply show up to support us in our work, like Hanuman does repeatedly in the Ramayana. Other times our friends have the difficult task of reminding us when we’re out of alignment and behaving badly, as the Gods did in Hanuman’s youth. This latter has been among the best help I have received from my friends, even though usually it was the hardest help to receive.

Each of us is blessed with particular assets, be they physical, artistic, scientific, or simply being a good parent or friend, among many other possibilities. Our community and the larger world benefits from our remembrance of our gifts and bringing forth our unique contribution. Our friends, family, teachers, and the process of yoga itself serve to remind us of our own greatness. Douglas Brooks teaches that you are every character in the story. So we are each Hanuman, who here forgets his own greatness and many abilities. And we are each Jambavan, reminding each other of all we have to offer. Like Jambavan, may we each encourage the greatness of others, reminding them of their beauty and talents, especially when they’ve forgotten. And, like Hanuman, may we remember our own greatness, and harness our gifts in service of the divine. In this way, we can all be kalyāṇa–mitra for each other.

REFLECT AND EXPLORE

How have you experienced the power of the kula and those who are walking the path with you, your kalyāṇa–mitra?

How can you be a better spiritual friend?

Yogic Qualities as Emergent Qualities

Anyone exploring yoga and spirituality learns about its many edicts, all the ways yogis are supposed to be as spiritual practitioners. For example, in the Yoga Sūtra, the yamas and the niyamas are the first two limbs of the famous aṣṭāṅga/eight-limbed system (YS 2.29). They include qualities like nonharming, truthfulness, nonstealing, cleanliness, and more. Elsewhere in the Yoga Sūtra are listed several attributes to cultivate on the path of yoga, such as joy, equanimity, faith, and strength (YS 1.20 and 1.33). These are treasured attributes of the path of yoga.

As I began studying the texts in my early days as a yoga practitioner, I earnestly tried to cultivate in my daily life the qualities I read about. I imagined myself embodying various attributes, much like the New Age notion of visualizing some outcome one wishes to manifest. However, if one works only on the level of the relative surface existence, success may be relatively limited.

Consider that these treasured attributes are innate capacities of the heart that may be blocked or veiled to some degree, so success in cultivating these qualities is directly correlated with the clarity of awareness and the ability to access the highest within. A more potent and effective means of manifesting them is to align with the deepest self—that which rules over everything else. As one becomes more aligned with the Highest and refines awareness, innate capacities of the heart begin to naturally emerge and flow.

Since these qualities are actually already within us, it is simply a matter of unleashing them. The process of yoga eliminates and shifts our habitual patterns/saṃskāras and they no longer guide behavior. As awareness becomes more clear and lucid, the responses these yogic virtues represent will naturally arise. These positive characteristics can be thought of as emergent qualities. They naturally emerge as the practices move us farther along the path to greater awareness and clarity.

Like many things in yoga, cultivating these virtues is a bit paradoxical as they are both the result of practice, and they are practices in and of themselves. The world desperately needs each of us to embody these qualities, so it is good to cultivate them to whatever degree possible. The more we consciously bring these attributes into awareness, the more our being will be colored by them. And as well, the more we practice and generally clarify our awareness, the more these qualities will naturally and spontaneously emerge.

These qualities are dharmic—they help hold things together on the surface of life. As we cultivate these virtues, they create more positive saṃskāras and fewer negative saṃskāras as we proceed along the path, as they begin to arise spontaneously more frequently. Most importantly, they have a positive effect on our own lives and on the world at large.

REFLECT AND EXPLORE

How have you found positive qualities of the heart arising along the path of yoga?

How do you find them easier to cultivate over time?

How do you observe them spontaneously arising?

Samādhi and Prajñā

Patañjali’s Yoga Sūtra considers several yogic qualities and the last two are samādhi and prajñā, which have a variety of nuanced meanings. The topic of samādhi is huge, evidenced by the first chapter of the Yoga Sūtra being entitled “samādhi,” and the great number of aphorisms which address it throughout the text. Briefly, samādhi refers to a meditative state of awareness with various stages, the ultimate involves a complete identification with the object of meditation. Prajñā is generally translated as wisdom. These two words can be seen as separate, or some interpret them as a phrase meaning “the wisdom of samādhi.”

In the process of meditation, one moves through the increasingly refined stages of samādhi, into the depths of awareness and the essence of reality. There’s a lot to say about the process and the effects that it has on us that is beyond the scope of the present discussion. But basically our awareness becomes clarified such that we see things more clearly. This allows us to begin to see the essence of reality, of who we are, and the nature of everything.

This clarity is associated with prajñā, translated as wisdom, insight, and discernment. It is a profound knowledge based on the increased awareness we experience in deep states of meditation. So there’s a sense of clarity and a wisdom arising from the deepest connection with the highest, yielding the ability to see things as they really are. That’s why some translators pair these two as the wisdom (prajñā) that is inherent in samādhi.

So our practice of yoga, particularly meditation, creates the conditions for this wisdom to emerge. As well, such knowledge reinforces the previous qualities listed: we have more faith/ śraddhā in the process of yoga and increased vīrya/strength. Smṛti/remembering is supported with this clarity of awareness, and one thing we remember is that connectedness the state of samādhi ultimately yields. The practical consequence is that as we access this wisdom within, it guides us in all our householder activities so that our life begins to reflect the highest possible outcomes.

REFLECT AND EXPLORE

Contemplate and write about samādhi and prajñā.

How have you experienced increasing discernment on your path of yoga?

How do you see the connection between all the five qualities listed in Yoga Sūtra 1.20?

Remember to Remember

In our recent studies, we’re delving into aphorism 1.20 from Patañjali’s Yoga Sūtra. In a previous essay, we considered the first two listed qualities: śraddhā/faith and vīrya/strength or energy. The third listed quality is smṛti, variously translated as memory, remembering, or even mindfulness. This always reminds me (I remember!) of something Krishna Das said: remember to remember. I suspect he was talking about remembering the Highest, the Divine, the beloved, always and all ways.

One very concrete interpretation of smṛti is to remember the lessons you’ve learned in your life. This may be a recollection, but it also could be an active inquiry into your history to discern the connection between your actions and the outcomes in your life. First off, we don’t want to continue making the same mistakes. When we encounter some situation we have previous experience with, we bring to bear all we’ve learned about what type of action will bring about the highest in a given situation.

This is related to the concept of sambandha, which is the ability to see the relationship, to connect the dots between one thing and another. Especially important is remembering what takes us further along the path of yoga, understanding what actions on our part keep us most aligned with our Heartself. We must identify how our practice of yoga impacts our life, remember that connection between our practices and the unfolding of our life. This will feed back into the faith/śraddhā and energy/vīrya to do our practices, and to generally affirm we are continuing to move forward in an aligned way.

Another interpretation of smṛti that I see in the commentaries concerns recalling the calm, loving, and luminous states we experience during practice. This relates to the concept of vyutthāna, mentioned by Kṣemarāja in the Pratyabhijñā-hṛdayam (e.g., PH 19). This is a practice done as one is emerging from practice, like when getting up from śavāsana and sitting quietly for a moment to remember and imprint the state of sattva/luminosity the practice brings. Then one’s life can be uplifted by actively recalling that state later during daily life on a moment by moment basis.

Which brings us back around to remembering the Highest in each moment, being mindful of the dynamics of each situation and instead of reacting from some habitual behavioral pattern, remembering your heart, remembering you have some freedom of choice, remembering previous lessons and consciously choosing to move from the highest possible place. And remember to remember.

REFLECT AND EXPLORE

Contemplate and write about smṛti.

What are all the ways you think about smṛti? How can they be applied to your life?

What connection/sambandha do you see between your practice of yoga, and living your householder life?

How is smṛti related to śraddhā and vīrya?

FAITH AND STRENGTH

One of my favorite sūtras from Patañjali’s Yoga Sūtra relates to yogic qualities associated with the path of yoga. You can think of these as virtues that naturally emerge as we move further along the path, and/or as qualities to consciously cultivate as part of your practice.

YS 1.20 śraddhā-vīrya-smṛti-samādhi-prajña-pūrvaka itareṣāṃ
śraddhā: faith
vīrya: vigor, energy, strength
smṛti: memory, mindfulness
samādhi: meditative absorption
prajña: wisdom, insight
pūrvaka: preceded or accompanied by
itareṣāṃ: for others
For others [the state of yoga] is accompanied by faith, strength, memory, samadhi and wisdom.

For starters let’s consider the first two qualities. First listed is śraddhā/faith. What does faith mean? You may want to take a moment to contemplate that question.

Sometimes faith gets a bad rap because it can be seen as a blind religiosity. I think of it as faith in the process and your path, in the teachings and your teachers. This includes faith in yourself, that you will progress on the path, expanding awareness and understanding. And as well, faith can mean sensing that everything will work out. I know that sounds rather Pollyanna-ish, but it’s a sense that even when things are really hard, you will learn something from it, refine your understanding, and get through it.

I remember once I was at a big workshop with my teaching colleagues. My main teacher at the time asked in front of everyone: “Cindy Lusk, what is the first sūtra of the Yoga Sūtra?”, which I answered correctly. The teacher proceeded to point out how I hadn’t freaked out when he put me on the spot, and just called forth the answer in a calm way.

Then the next day, he said, “Cindy Lusk, what is Yoga Sūtra 1.20?” And…I freaked! It is so ironic because the very first word of this sutra is śraddhā/faith, but when I freaked out, I lost faith that the answer would come if I paused to remember. Yet, even though it was embarrassing in the moment, I will never forget this sūtra again.

The second quality listed in this sūtra is vīrya, energy or strength. One way to think about this is as the energy we bring to the practices, be they meditation, āsana, or svādhyāya/study. But as well it involves sticking with it through the challenging times, through the boring times, through the times when we just don’t want to do it. Vīrya is the energy to start, and just keep it going, whether the experience is easeful or challenging.

Vīrya reminds me that there is work to be done. This may entail a summoning of inner resources to start shifting non-aligned patterns in order to manifest refinement in its many forms: healing, growth, change, and transformation. At times we can get stuck in situations be they physical, mental, or matters of the heart, and it takes strength and courage to choose to shift.

These two qualities of faith and strength interact and feed each other. As we have śraddhā/faith in the wisdom of the teachings as guidance for our actions, vīrya/courage arises that provides energy for those actions, and as we see the efficacy of the aligned action, we have more faith. And this is why I continue to study the teachings of yoga again and again, deepening my understanding, my faith, and my courage to manifest them in my life on a daily basis.

REFLECT AND EXPLORE

How have you experienced the qualities of śraddhā and vīrya manifesting in your life?

Are you inclined to one more than the other? How is that working?

What helps them manifest?

The Role of the Guru

The whole process of yoga, including study as well as guidance in all the practices, is supported by teachers. Spiritual teachers are among the most venerated professionals in the world, and rightly so. A human teacher is a necessary component because having walked the path already, they can guide us in the right direction, help us avoid pitfalls, and generally make our journey more efficient and effective.

That said, gurus and teachers who abuse their power and engage in exploitation have been unveiled and widely denounced by the yoga community and elsewhere. In response, some people are inclined to entirely reject gurus and the notion of needing a teacher at all, relying solely on inner guidance.

Before going any further with this topic, take some time to consider your current beliefs about gurus and teachers. Take a moment to pause, contemplate, and write down answers to any of the following:
– When you hear the word guru, what comes to mind?
– What role have teachers played in your life?
– Who or what have been your greatest teachers, and why?

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What is a guru really? What is their role on the path of yoga? An often-given definition of guru is whatever takes one from the dark to the light. The guru is that which takes you from ignorance to knowledge, concealment to revelation. The guru is whoever or whatever guides you in the journey of yoga.

SS 2.6 gururupāyaḥ
Guru: guru
Upāya: method or means
The guru is the means

We know the value of a teacher, in any field of knowledge, as someone who takes a student from a place of not understanding to a place of knowledge. This applies to everything from cooking to car repair to art and, of course, any academic field. We rely on experts to educate us. As Śiva Sūtra 2.6 clearly states, teachers are a primary means to knowledge. We can certainly teach ourselves to some degree—and there are rare cases of spontaneous knowledge, such as child prodigies—but it’s generally more effective and efficient to learn from a teacher.

The one primal guru that is Consciousness itself appears in many forms. Human teachers who can access this Consciousness act as conduits for the highest knowledge. The tradition differentiates between different types of gurus, which are forms of the sadguru or sat–guru, referring to the “true teacher.” The guru can be an enlightened spiritual master, but another way to think of the sadguru is as the underlying higher Consciousness that can guide us, if and when we choose to listen to it. This is where we get the idea that guru is within—because ultimately it is.

But let’s be clear: Who are you consulting when you turn within? We can’t delude ourselves into thinking that our everyday neurotic self is the best counsel to seek because this has the potential of reiterating all of our old patterns and ways of being. It is not moving us from the dark to the light and could simply reinforce our ignorance. So before relying solelyu on insight, we must first clarify our individuality to create access to the wisest self. And usually, the means to do so (such as practices like meditation) come through a teacher.

Eventually, as we move farther along the path of yoga—and especially as we meditate more—our access to, and clarity of, the inner Self becomes greater and is, therefore, a more reliable guide. In the meantime, we must be careful not to delude ourselves. This is why it’s suggested that in addition to consulting the inner guru, to verify insights with both the texts and teachers.

A consistent message I’ve received from my teachers is that the time of the mega-guru is over. Instead, what is now emerging is a larger number of teachers, each working with smaller groups, quietly creating shifts in consciousness that eventually will reach a critical mass. For this to be successful, of course, the community members have to be actively practicing and studying, not just being passive recipients of the teachings. Each must make the effort required to understand and apply the teachings, so that what they offer each other has authenticity.

REFLECT AND EXPLORE

– How have you learned about yoga and meditation? Consider what has influenced you, including particular teachers, lineages, other people, books, etc.

– Do you favor learning from teachers, the traditional texts, or from listening to yourself? How has that worked?

IGNORANCE

The yoga tradition asserts that at essence we are each divine, yet this isn’t what most of us experience. Somehow we don’t know that, we’ve forgotten our hearts as we become entangled in our surface lives. One way this forgetfulness is expressed in the tradition is as avidyā. Vidyā means “knowledge,” and adding the negator a indicates that avidyā is a lack of knowledge, generally translated as “ignorance.” We are ignorant of who we are at essence.

YS 2.5 anitya-aśuci-duḥkha-anātmasu nitya-śuci-sukha-ātma-khyātir-avidyā
anityta: not eternal, impermanent, transitory
aśuci: impure
duḥkha: pain, sorrow
anātmasu: not-Self
nitya: eternal
śuci: pure, clear
sukha: happiness, joy
ātma: Self
khyāti: perception
avidyā: ignorance
Ignorance is confusing the transitory, impure, and painful not-self with the eternal, pure, joyful Self.

The Yoga Sūtras lists ignorance as one of the five kleśas, which are impediments or afflictions that are the underlying causes of suffering. Avidyā, or ignorance, is given as the primary ground from which the other kleśas are born (YS 2.4). Also, YS 2.5 indicates that ignorance leads to a fundamental confusion. Instead of experiencing the ātma/Self, which is eternal, pure, and joyful, we identify with the surface self (the an-ātma or “not-self,”), which is transitory, impure, and painful.

SS 1.2 jñānaṃ bandhaḥ
jñāna: knowledge
bandhaḥ: bondage
[Limited] knowledge is bondage.

A related way of thinking about this is that we’ve forgotten caitanyam ātmā (SS 1.1), “Consciousness is the self/ātma.” And in the Śiva Sūtra, immediately after proclaiming this highest teaching in the first sūtra, the next sūtra, SS 1.2, says, “Limited knowledge is bondage.” In his commentary, Kṣemarāja points to two ways this limited knowledge manifests, which is similar to what is outlined in YS 2.5. (Note the use of “ātma” in both YS 2.5 and SS 1.1.)

The first type of limited knowledge is thinking of ourselves in limited terms. Our everyday awareness thinks that all we are is our dance on the surface of life. We think the totality of existence is that part of the iceberg above the water. We are sucked into the daily drama of life and identify completely with it.

A second way knowledge is limited is not recognizing that we are in fact Consciousness itself. We don’t know ourselves as the ocean of Consciousness. We fail to penetrate beyond the surface awareness to discover the heart of who we are at the depths.

The teaching on ignorance is fundamental and prevalent throughout the tradition of yoga, and many others. Many mechanisms are posited for how this comes to be, which we will consider sometime in the future.

REFLECT AND EXPLORE

Give your definition of ignorance/avidyā.

Consider YS 2.5 and SS 1.2 and the two ways ignorance is described. Put these into your own words.

How do you see ignorance manifesting in your life?

How do you see ignorance manifesting in the world at large?

caitanyam-ātmā

Throughout human history, we’ve known there’s more than meets the physical eye, and scientists have spent a great amount of effort investigating the physical world, from the microscopic to the boundaries of our universe and beyond. Research on human consciousness has lagged behind somewhat, but there are well-developed philosophies elaborated by those who spent time investigating it.

Historically, these are the ṛṣis, the seers, the see-ers—those who have turned their awareness inside to their own consciousness—exploring and investigating its makeup to describe the nature of reality. And what some of these seers discovered—not unlike what modern science has discovered—is that there is a unifying energy, a source that underlies, unfolds, and enfolds all of the material world.

The Tantric tradition articulates that beyond the physical reality and our everyday bodily existence there is a Sourceplace that is the ground of being, which pulsates everything into existence as part of Itself. This statement is such an extraordinary and paradoxical teaching that it is challenging for us to understand within the limited perspective of our body-mind.

In fact, some traditions simply say “it” cannot be described and refuse to do so. And they are right to some extent, because any words will inevitably fall short of fully representing the highest reality. This unmanifest sourceplace has been given many names in the different streams and traditions of yoga. The Upaniṣads speak of Brahman, and the Tantric tradition speaks of Śiva, Śiva-Śakti, Cit, and Citi, among other names.

The Tantric tradition asserts that everything emanates into existence from Source, including you. You are not separate. You are Consciousness. This profound and core teaching requires a willingness to sit with paradox. For now, simply allow these ideas to permeate your awareness.

Before going further, stop to contemplate how YOU think about this highest sourceplace.

Ask yourself

Who am I?

What animates your everyday consciousness? Where does your moment-by-moment awareness come from?

What is beneath the surface awareness?

Do you think of a higher consciousness as separate from you, or part of you?

Is it possible that you are God incarnate?

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SS 1.1 caitanyam–ātmā

caitanyam: supreme Consciousness

ātmā:Self

Consciousness is the Self.

The first sūtra from the core text of Tantra, the Śiva Sūtra, says that the highest reality, Caitanya, is our very own self, ātmā (SS 1.1). The first word of this first sūtra, caitanya, comes from the word cit, meaning “Consciousness,” pure eternal intelligence. As already noted, this Highest Consciousness has many names including Cit. This sūtra indicates that Cit is the nature of the Self, here called the ātmā.

Ātma or ātman is a word used in many of the older texts, particularly the Upaniṣads, to name individual Consciousness, that spark of divinity or spirit within each of us. SS 1.1 is simply translated as: “Consciousness is the Self.” The full, free, perfect Consciousness is the true Self and the essence of the individual self. This is so important to remember: in Tantric philosophy, when discussing the Highest, we are not talking about something separate or out there but, instead, that which is our own innate consciousness.

Word order is important in these sūtra texts, and “Consciousness” is the first word of the first sūtra, indicating that it is the most important and highest teaching of this text. Then the first sūtra, “Consciousness is the Self,” indicates that supreme Consciousness manifests as our very own Self. Part of how this sūtra encapsulates the highest teaching is that it captures the paradox of our humanity.

There is a sense that every human being at essence is good, full, and perfect, which some call “divine.” Yet, as individuals in the domain of the relative manifest reality, we don’t necessarily experience ourselves and others as divine. Turning the translation around to “Self is Consciousness” in this sūtra indicates there is a pathway from our individual self back to the absolute Consciousness. This is our path of yoga.

REFLECT AND EXPLORE

Contemplate any of the following:

– the notion of Consciousness

– the notion of Self/ātmā

– the alternate translations of SS 1.1 as “Consciousness is the self” and “Self is Consciousness.”

Consider the statement “I am Consciousness.” How have you experienced this?

Now let us study the teachings of yoga

YS 1.1 atha yoga-anuśāsanam
atha: now
yoga: yoga (from the verbal root yuj “to yoke or join”); union
anuśāsanam: teachings, instruction, exposition

Now let us study the teachings of yoga.

The very first sūtra of the Yoga Sūtra literally means “Now the teachings of yoga.” We invoke this sūtra now (atha) at the beginning of our studies together (anuśāsanam). The overall feeling I get from this sūtra is of a threshold, an invitation into the teachings of yoga. It implies that something in the past has led you here, now. And that from “now” the future will unfold. All times—past, present, and future—are folding into the now. Every moment is at least in part a result of the past and will affect each moment that unfolds into the future. So we begin now, knowing there is a vast history that has led us here, and there is a lot to yet unfold.

One perspective on this sūtra is that you are ready now. Maybe yesterday you weren’t ready, but now somehow you are, the prerequisites have been met. Something has brought you this far; otherwise, why would you be reading this right now? And there’s a sense of urgency: Today, not tomorrow. Don’t put it off any longer.

The “now” in this sūtra can indicate that each moment is an opportunity for yoga. Each moment contains a choice that will affect the later unfolding of life. In each moment we can bring to bear a heightened awareness that is a result of our yoga practice.

The second word of this aphorism, anuśāsanam, is usually translated as “instruction” or “teaching.” With this word, Patañjali is announcing that these teachings are part of a long, continuous lineage that he is bringing together in this text of the Yoga Sūtra. It also indicates that many subsequent teachings will flow from this text.

The Sanskrit prefix anu is akin to the English prefix “co-,” meaning “together.” There’s a sense that these teachings are meant to be studied with others, alongside a teacher at least. They weren’t originally intended to be read independently, as we might do today, and that’s one of the reasons it can be so difficult to understand these ancient texts.

And what about that word yoga? In the fullness of the text, Patañjali gives a wide variety of definitions and techniques, including a three-fold path of kriyā-yoga and the famous eight-fold path of aṣṭāṅga–yoga. This is one of the important teachings for us as yoga practitioners: There are many yogas. They are outlined in the Yoga Sūtra, the Bhagavad Gītā, the Upaniṣads, the Tantras, and many other places.

It would be nice to have one clear definition and path of yoga with a beginning, middle, and end. But this is not the case with these teachings. They are not novels or stories. The yogic teachings contained in texts and myths are road maps, pointing in a direction and indicating the landmarks along the way. But as the saying goes, the map is not the territory. And our experience of that territory is heavily influenced by what we bring on the journey: our previous experiences and knowledge.

Each of us has our own trajectory, and it is important to pay attention to that. You are invited to contemplate your journey and what has led to this moment.

REFLECT AND EXPLORE

Consider your own journey into yoga and meditation—or into spirituality in general. Consider everything from your childhood until now.

• How has it unfolded?

• What have been the significant events?

• What has your path looked like?

• Who or what have been your teachers?

What is your definition of yoga?

Contemplate this aphorism and write about your own perspective on commencing the study of yoga.