1/9/18
Yoga Darsana Introduction
At
last we’re back to our weekly probe into the mysteries of the psyche. It seems
like ages since we finished the Bhakti Darsana, a mere month ago. All right,
let’s go!
One
way of looking at the overall structure of Darsanamala is that the first half
opens with the inception of existence and grows into the full spectrum of what
that implies. Duality is fully recognized, even as it springs inextricably from
an original unity. In the second half there is a gradual closing of the gap
between subject and object. The Yoga Darsana very nearly completes the process
insofar as individual effort is concerned, and then the last, the Nirvana
Darsana, celebrates the panoply of unified states, arriving at the end to
“seeming” nonexistence once again.
Remember
the opening line of the very first verse? “In the beginning it was as if
non-existence.” By the end we will return to that “as if” of nonexistence.
Existence and nonexistence are both “as ifs,” apparent contradistinctive states
floating on the substratum of the Absolute. Appearances. Like maya, if you
will. In yoga we are actively reducing those types of duality to a minimum,
contemplating all the ways they are intimately related and working to maintain
balance. How could you possibly have one without the other? Doesn’t work that
way. Yet humanity often carries on as if half of the picture is the whole
business, and that leads to all kinds of absurdities. By this point in
Darsanamala we have been properly instructed on how and why to continually
bring in the full purport of every situation.
The
majority of spiritual programs conceive of the inner realm as an escape from
the chaos of the outer world. In Advaita Vedanta, by contrast, the inner and
outer are both included, and brought into a state of harmonious balance. This
is an incredibly important feature. There is nothing escapist here. One side in
ignorance of the other is a recipe for failure. We are allowed to consider
inner and outer separately for purposes of clarification, but never to imagine
they are somehow unconnected. They are two aspects of a single reality.
Nitya
opens his introduction to the Yoga Darsana with a veiled exhortation to “make
it real,” to make the philosophy connect directly with our life:
Yoga or union suggests the joining of
two
things. Even though in philosophy the mind/body duality is well known, the
schism implied in that situation is appreciated only as a semantic problem and
not as one substantially experienced at the levels of feeling and willing
(emotion and volition).
This is not an academic exercise! It goes right to the heart
of our behavior in relation to our environment, including other people. Our
dissatisfaction over general ideas is something we can take or leave according
to our temperament. Our internal disquiet about our state of mind is a more
pressing matter, as it affects our ability to cope with said environment. In
other words, our mental state colors our experience, and needs to be stabilized
before we can hope to have a beneficial influence on the course of our life.
Nitya suggests that we feel the pinch of duality most vividly when in
one-on-one situations:
The real problem stems from the disharmony
which arises between two hearts or two minds, and the incompatibility that is grievously
felt in that union of two bodies. The answer to such a primary problem comes
from the harmony that ensues from the quality of interpersonal union.
To the
uninstructed, interpersonal conflict is obviously due to the stupidity of the
other person. Wisdom science demonstrates that it is our own partial awareness
that is imposed on our relationships, and once this is accepted the high road
to resolution in amity is open to us. Nitya nails this in one sentence: “The
root cause of interpersonal disunity lies in intrapersonal discord.” The
discord is within us. Sure the other person has their own discordance, but
focusing on that is the way to eternal conflict. We have to heal ourselves
first.
While
restoring our wholeness usually does have a healing effect on our world, we
shouldn’t expect it to automatically cure the other. If we are ever adequately
healed, we then confront a different type of challenge:
This problem does not end even when the
person
makes themself whole and psychologically solid to interact with others, because
anyone with whom such a person wants to relate cannot be expected to be free
from their own intrapersonal heterogeneity.
Conflicts
at this stage are opportunities to let go of our unreasonable expectations and
selfish desires. We’re moving toward the kind of relationship a guru has with a
disciple, where the pivot is not individual needs but universal values:
The sole aim of centering one’s
I-consciousness
around the nucleus of a universal value such as love, compassion, justice or
truth is to effect an inner cohesion and unity at the intrapersonal level.
In other
words, only when we move from a selfish orientation to one based on a universal
shared value does union become a possibility. When we stabilize on a ground of
selflessness, the doors open wide to the unified state many of us like to call
love. It’s Love with a capital L, inclusive of the other. The other can be an
abstraction, like God or the Divine Mother, but when it includes the outer as a
living presence there is someone involved who can give us fine-tuned feedback
and guidance, and this is of inestimable importance:
A great alchemy that can interrelate two
persons through the process of fusing their interests in identical values comes
from the conflagration of love in which two such individuals are gracefully
brought together by the Divine or by Benevolent Chance.
If we are
no longer an isolated “doer” we can begin to appreciate how the so-called
randomness of life brings opportunities for supreme love to gestate. Although
Chance is making everything happen, we still do have a role in energizing our
participation. We could picture it as Chance arranging the horizontal elements
to support our vertical development, and our conscious role is to foster those
elements that are most conducive to this, while eliminating those that aren’t.
In
Part II I’ve added several crucial excerpts from Nataraja Guru’s Integrated Science of the Absolute
relating to the Yoga Darsana. The most important of all of them is his understanding
of Patanjali’s famous definition, citta
vritti nirodha: “Yoga is the restraint of mental modifications.”
Nataraja Guru, along with a Vyasa who commented on the Yoga Sutras in the
distant past, maintains that this refers to the horizontal aspect only, that
vertical aspirations are not to be restrained:
This is only a partial
definition. We see that, when it is taken literally, it suggests a complete
inertness or inactivity…. Vertical activities should not be restrained but must
be allowed to rise progressively to higher and higher levels of attainment of
the Absolute.
There is a
longer excerpt addressing this in Part II, and all of those I’ve included are
extremely helpful to dealing with the present darsana.
Nitya
expresses a lovely example of vertical aspiration as “preparedness to live in
amity,” and the class made much of this brilliant stroke. First off, here’s the
full quote:
Love is universally experienced as a process
in
which an effort of union is made through conscious aspiration and an effortless
union is happening by Providential Grace. In the present chapter yoga is said
to be such a beautiful incidence, in which the knowledge of togetherness – of
being one and identical – is beautifully complemented by the preparedness to
live in amity.
Deb thought
this was a perfect definition of yoga. Here again we have the apparent duality
of effort and effortlessness being brought very close together—synthesized if
you will—bringing about a state of transcendent love or bliss. Undergirding all
this effort is the awareness of a ground of oneness. Oneness is something we
all intuitively remember from our seemingly almost infinite time in the womb.
We were incepted in oneness and stayed within it until we suddenly emerged into
a world filled with otherness. There is an element in everyone that longs to be
restored to that blissful unity, and it is a healthy longing if it motivates us
to grow.
There
is an interesting place where Nitya draws a parallel between the Freudian
conception of the mind and the Vedantic:
In Indian schools the function of the
id is
assigned to vasanas, the ego is ahamkara, and the place of the superego
is assigned to dharma. As dharma is
morally and spiritually identified with righteousness (at least in India), the
appetite of the id-like vasanas is decried as a psychological menace to be
effaced. This process is generally recognized as the cultivation of detachment
and the repetitive practice of moralizing tendencies so that one’s habitual
choices will be in agreement with what is rated as one’s integrity in dharma
(righteousness).
Nitya might
have said more about this idea, because the vasanas include both our beneficial
and retrograde tendencies, and it is the role of the ego to sort these out. The
ego is the mediator of duality, with the power to either exacerbate it or
minimize it. A blanket condemnation of the ego can pit a person against
themself, a truly harmful posture or asana. Vasanas are very like our genetic
makeup, the source of our greatness as well as our shortcomings. Dharma at its
best is also considered a natural innate faculty rather than any outside set of
rules to live by, which is what Freud accorded to the superego: the
internalizing of the moral strictures of the society and its caregivers.
Paul
brought up the suppression of vasanas by the ego. He rightly thought that
Freud’s scheme was meant to be inclusive of the three aspects of the mind
working in concert, and not to set up a hierarchy. Paul thought the ego should
become more transparent, intentionally limiting itself and its role.
Unfortunately, much of our social and religious training (residing in us as the
superego) leads us to struggle to hide our negative impulses, which as Deb
pointed out drives them underground and at the same time strongly energizes
them. Then they re-emerge in all sorts of insidious ways, like the proverbial
politicians in sheep’s clothing. (We’re working to rehabilitate the honor of
wolves here.)
A
much healthier way to dispense with negative vasanas is to carefully watch them
as they bubble up to the surface, acknowledge them, and then laugh about them
or bring in a countervailing tendency. Without support—or repression—they will
wither on the vine.
It’s
amazing how many American terrorists are described by those who knew them before
their explosive outburst as quiet, unassuming, good people. We are experts at
hiding our ugly vasanas, but not so good at diffusing them. No one is taught
how to handle them. It’s an ongoing tragedy, where either the self or the other
will someday pay a large price.
Again,
many religious systems advocate the suppression of our positive tendencies
along with the negative, relinquishing personal motivation to a remote external
power. An imaginary power to boot. The Narayana Gurukula does not—or should
not—support anything of the kind. Narayana Guru taught the restoration of human
dignity, not its abnegation. He supported people doing what they felt called to
do by their best internal impulses, and the result speaks for itself.
Nitya
touches on contemplating the Great Dicta of Vedanta as a salve for the troubled
soul, as a means to achieve the transpersonal union he is advocating:
When the ‘other’ is not merely
another person
but the collective Self to which the individual self also belongs, and one treats
the universal Self as the ‘other’, otherness is not a bar to union because the
personal self serves as the nucleus of the universal Self. In this case one may
feel like saying “I am the Absolute,” or one may feel enveloped by the
universal to the extent that one can easily turn to the other and say, “That
thou art.”
The secret
is staying with it:
When this happens in an enormous and continuous
manner, the differentiating quality of the individual becomes more and more
flushed with the universality of fundamental existence, subsistence, and value,
and then one is no longer tyrannized by the congenital idiosyncrasies of the
person concerned.
The Yoga
Darsana makes a passing reference to an arcane yoga practice in its ninth
verse, which Nataraja Guru suggests is meant to implicitly include all other
such practices. Purification through various acts is so popular in India, and
now elsewhere, that it bears a mention even here where it is not considered
particularly useful. Nitya follows suit in his introduction:
Such an all-out purification, which can
ultimately result in the effacing of the ‘self’ and the ‘other’, may have to
include even physical exercises such as controlling breath and regulating
synergic centers. Even in such practices, what matters is not the mechanical
adaptability of a certain technique but its worthwhileness in touching at the
fountain source of the one bliss to which all forms of happiness belong.
Synergic
centers are Nitya’s term for chakras. He always downplayed specific practices
as largely beside the point, if not fuel for egoism. The only excuse is if the
vertical goal remains as the lodestar, beckoning us to seek out the fountain
source of bliss and not get distracted by wishful thinking. He elaborates:
In other words, one falls in love with
the only
love that is, whereby one’s existentiality and subsistentiality can both become
the structural and functional dynamic of ananda, which is at once the ground of the personal self and the
universal Self.
In the
interest of making this sentence somewhat more sensible, this means that the
actuality of our life and the understanding we use to support it are aimed at
the highest vertical value of universal oneness. Our vertical goal is what
gives our life meaning, making it worthwhile and enjoyable. Anything less than
the highest tends to drift off into horizontal sidetracks.
Jan
resonated with this as something she is not only working on diligently these
days, but is finding it opening up into rewarding possibilities. She can see how
some vasanas are leading her toward the fountain source and others away from
it. She hasn’t yet found one that grabs her totally, but she is testing out
some of them to see how they feel, especially as Jan has an inclination to be
extraordinary. Or to realize her extraordinariness. This is a very healthy
process at a changeover moment in life. Rigid religions always try to specify
certain lifestyles, and these may satisfy those doomed to be followers, but
Narayana Guru’s teachings leave the door open to individual predilections. Each
thoughtful and open person is the best judge of what works for them. All we are
trying to do in our classes is support healthy and meaningful choices. The
final determination is up to each individual.
Moni
agreed that yoga meant the harmonious union of the Absolute and the
individual self. It isn’t about the deletion of individuality but its
empowerment, and every moment affords us an opportunity to put this into
practice.
Paul
gave a nice analogy from a movie he saw recently, “Victoria and Abdul.” In it a rug maker wove a bird into
the
design that was seen by Queen Victoria. The bird was symbolic of freedom, yet
it only existed because of being woven into the confines of the rug. Its value
speaks to us through its shape, in other words. It spoke to Paul about how our
perceptions and conditioning have constrained us to be dependent on the weaving
of laws, society, expectations, and so on. The scene, which is quoted in Part
II, shows how certain conditions are inevitable to our expressions. Erase
everything and you have no bird, no rug, no concept even of freedom. We will
touch such a state at the end of the final darsana, but it’s not necessarily
anything we would aspire for. Why work to erase yourself when that will arrive unbidden
soon enough?
This
led to a discussion of imprinting, which is also displaced to Part II.
Imprinting of birds was a way scientists were made aware of how confining our
conditioning really is. If we don’t know we are bound, we won’t even bother
making efforts to liberate ourselves. The success of our conditioning lies in
how natural it feels after a few years of humiliating constraints.
Nitya
ends with the unification of the two main streams of yoga, call them thought
and action or word and deed, in relation to the above citation of saccidananda:
The insight of that togetherness is evidenced
in jnana yoga, and its functional veracity is vouchsafed by karma yoga. In yoga there is no duality.
The seeming duality of jnana and karma is accepted only for the convenience of describing what is
otherwise indescribable.
We
closed with a brief meditation on the vertical essence to which we intend to
direct our efforts, while ignoring any stray horizontal thoughts that obtruded.
The final chant always leaves us with a loving sense of togetherness, tinged
with forgiveness for the misery which so many foist on others in hopes that it
will miraculously bring about surcease of sorrow. The only real cure passes
through unity, yet this remains a persecuted secret in much of our planet.
Thankfully, the secret is safe with us. Aum.
Part II
I
have finally caught up with our class in my proofreading of Nataraja Guru’s Integrated Science of the Absolute,
so
my quotes from there will be more timely. Here’s what’s gone into the
Highlights doc so far about the Yoga Darsana, which Nataraja Guru titles
Meditation:
It is the union of the Self and the non-Self that brings
happiness. (ISOA Vol. II, 350)
Yoga has often become a branch of sterile speculation because
the items are not easily referable to their corresponding experienced
counterparts. (350-1)
Yoga as a central value given to the vision of an absolutist
contemplative is capable of being viewed from different angles or points of
view. Even the most traditionally recognized definition of yoga, found in the
second verse of the Yoga Sutras, which is considered the basic book for the
elaboration of all ideas on yoga, states that yoga consists of restraint of the
activities of the mind. This is only a partial definition. We see that, when it
is taken literally, it suggests a complete inertness or inactivity. It is with
a view to amend and modify such a possible initial interpretation of this
definition that Vyasa’s commentary indicates which of the two sets of items are
to be subjected to complete restraint and which are still to be given some kind
of free play. (362)
Vertical activity is not so objectionable as horizontal
activities based on sensuous interests in ordinary life. Vertical activities
should not be restrained but must be allowed to rise progressively to higher
and higher levels of attainment of the Absolute. In other words, restraint
should not be mechanistically conceived, but must be fitted organically and in
a more living fashion within the alternating process taking place within the
fourfold structural possibilities within the scope of which the life of a yogi
has necessarily to live and move. Yoga as a contemplative discipline is
oriented towards the goal of a general happiness for the Self, but when the Self
is oriented to wrong horizontal values it gets caught in suffering instead of
progressing on the line of ultimate happiness. (362)
The reciprocity, complementarity, compensation and
cancellability of counterparts have to be kept together in mind before their
dynamism as a whole can be visualized correctly as intended by this way of
life, which always implies a high and perfect vision of the Absolute. This is
always to be kept in view at every stage of the discipline, whether referring
to particular items of continued practice as in pranayama (regulation of vital tendencies), or in the contemplation
of Isvara (the Lord). Brute processes
as a denominator must always have a numerator consisting of a high aim of
intense contemplation of the Absolute, recommended as centered in the pranava (the mystic syllable AUM̂),
which is the target in the middle of the eyebrows to be reached by an arrow
shot from a bow imagined to be situated at a lower level of the mind. Thus
there are two ambivalent disciplines, one referring to the level of instinctive
dispositions which have to be progressively purified by long practice and the
other depending upon the cultivation of correct and higher contemplative
attitudes referring to the highest value called the Absolute and named by the
syllable AUM. (362-3)
As long as the vasanas
(incipient memory factors) persist in any individual case of a yogi, his
efforts to purify them have to be incessantly and willfully maintained. When by
a double negation the yogi has risen higher, he always correctly keeps his
verticalized orientation leading to the higher goal. The importance of
discipline then recedes into the background. It is only when the vasanas (incipient memory factors) have
been sufficiently purified that any kind of respectable yoga may be imagined as
taking place between such a purified mind and its own reasoning self (cidatma) as its positive counterpart.
Any respectable yoga has to treat these two counterparts as having a
homogeneity of epistemological status between them, without which true yoga
cannot take place at all. (363)
* *
*
Thanks to Paul, here’s the quote from the movie “Victoria
and Abdul.”
· Abdul Karim: This is a very nice one (handmade rug),
for example. Very, very tight knots. The art of carpets, uh, came to India from
Persia with the great Emperor Akbar. The s-skill of a carpet is to bring all
the different kinds of threads together and weave something we can all stand
on.
· Queen Victoria: You seem to know a great deal about
it.
· Abdul Karim: My family were carpet makers, but now I
write in the book. Life is like a carpet. We weave in and out to make a
pattern.
· Queen Victoria: That is a very beautiful image.
· Abdul Karim: Look. Here is the bird of freedom, caught forever in the design.
· Queen Victoria: So, in India, you are a poet?
· Abdul Karim: No. In India, I make a ledger of the
prisoners.
· Abdul Karim: Abdul. Abdul Karim.
· Queen Victoria: We are all prisoners, Mr. Karim.
**Quotes From Regal Website: https://www.regmovies.com/movies/victoria-and-abdul/B00127280999/quotes
* *
*
Speaking
of psychedelics and their role in realization, I recently encountered two
excerpts from Jay Stevens’ Storming
Heaven, the second of which I talked about in class. First there was this
about Aldous Huxley’s last thoughts before his death in 1963:
Psychedelics had made Huxley, in some quarters, an object of
ridicule, what with his cheerful espousal of mysticism and drugs, and his
rather schoolmarmish pep talks about human potentials. Island, while enthralling members of the psychedelic movement,
had
received lukewarm or negative reviews elsewhere. As Sybil Bedford, Huxley’s
biographer, observed: “To a number of his readers [Island] with its happiness and kindliness and good sense was
immensely moving…. To a great many others, and this must be faced, the book was
a boring tale of preachy goody-goodies.” Having fun with fungi, was the way one
reviewer dismissed the book. And in Playboy,
[his last interview] Huxley responded: “Which is better… to have Fun with Fungi
or to have Idiocy with Ideology, to have Wars because of Words, to have
Tomorrow’s Misdeeds out of Yesterday’s Miscreeds?”
In
a world of “explosive population increase, of headlong technological advance
and of militant nationalism,” Homo sapiens
had to discover, and very soon, “new energy sources for overcoming our
society’s psychological inertia.” Mankind could no longer afford the luxury of
a Bronze Age psyche in a world of hydrogen bombs. What was needed, Huxley wrote,
was a specialized course in education:
On the verbal level an education
in the nature and limitations, the uses and abuses of language; on the wordless
level an education in mental silence and pure receptivity; and finally, through
the use of harmless psychedelics, a course of chemically triggered experiences
or ecstasies—these, I believe, will provide all the sources of mental energy,
all the solvents of conceptual sludge, that an individual requires… if the
number of such individuals is sufficiently great, if their quality is
sufficiently high, they may be able to pass from undiscriminating acceptance of
their culture to discriminating change and reform. Is this a hopefully utopian
dream? Experiment can give us the answer, for the dream is pragmatic; the
utopian hypotheses can be tested empirically. And in these oppressive times a
little hope is surely no unwelcome visitant. (206-7)
* *
*
Then
this about imprinting:
Momentarily free from the political and professional
disputes that have drained so much of his energy during the past eighteen
months, Leary returns to his old love, behavior change, and to his old problem:
how to explain, in scientific terms, the mechanism that allows psychedelics to
change behavior. Convinced psychology offers few fruitful avenues, he begins
exploring the latest discoveries in genetics, quantum physics, and biology, and
eventually zeroes in on ethologist Konrad Lorenz’s theory of imprinting. Lorenz
happened to be present one day when some goose eggs hatched in an incubator.
Consequently he was the first large thing the goslings saw after pecking their
way out of the eggshells. To his utter astonishment they reacted by treating
him as their mother. The attachment was irreversible: Lorenz’s goslings would
have nothing to do with other geese. It was as though, in those first moments
of consciousness, the mind had taken a snapshot of reality—“a sudden,
shutterlike fixing of the nervous system” was the way Leary described it—that
was inalterable:
Once taken, the picture then
determines the scope and type of subsequent “lawful learning.” Imprinting, a
biochemical event, sets up the chessboard upon which slow, step by step
conditioning takes place.
Aldous Huxley had theorized that psychedelics temporarily
disrupted the mind’s reducing valves, thereby allowing information that was
usually screened out to flow freely into consciousness; Leary was now proposing
that these same drugs momentarily neutralized those primary biochemical
imprints, those deep behavior patterns, those metagames. But as every
psychedelic therapist knew, the open cortex lasted only so long before the
patient started to slide back into old behavior patterns, before the imprints
reasserted themselves.
But
was this inevitable?
Leary
doesn’t think so. (210-11)
Part III
We
also talked about stilling the mind, and how fMRI reveals that the mind is
always active even in the deepest meditation, although different parts come
into play. These are perhaps those that relate to our “vertical” aspect, while
the more superficially apparent relate to the horizontal and can be turned off
with intent. Along these lines (or not) Mike sent a response:
The experience that is manifesting in this realm of
existential probing has brought me to contemplate on the oneness of union in
all of its expressions so that there is no inner or outer and no subject and
object.
To silence the mind is a fiction.
There is no mind and in fact only words, thoughts, and
imaginations prevail in a completely virtual reality that is never sustainable.
This virtual reality I call ego-mind has no validity once pure consciousness
has been revealed as an indescribable presence that cannot be captured within a
space/time frame of reference.
In the presence of Nitya, all mental modulations melted away
effortlessly leaving only the union of oneness.
Every moment and every experience is an opportunity to let
go of personal identities and transcend without effort revealing the silent,
indescribable presence of the Absolute.
In this, the ego attachments and vasanic imprinting is
absorbed into the supreme Absolute, thus complete union is recognized as that
which is already present at all times.
I feel so weird discussing this which only removes me from
that which is pure, natural, and indescribable.
Not even sure if these expressions have any validity
intellectually.
Aum...
* *
*
An
alert reader noted my use of ‘tainted’ in the closing paragraph, putting a
negative slant where none was meant. H suggested ‘tinged’ instead. I wrote back
to thank him, including this:
I was quite exhausted by the end
of a long day and didn’t give it a final reading, or I might have said tinged
instead of tainted, which is what I meant to write. I do sometimes use the
apparently obsolete definition of taint as slight coloring, likely due to my
reading of old books and having old fashioned gurus.
The idea is the
understanding we get to (ideally) by the end of the class allows us to see how
the bestowers of misery often do so in a misguided attempt to make things
better. It is surely a dualistic perspective, so it tinges our “loving sense of
togetherness,” but in a kindhearted way, I trust.
Anyway, I’ve changed the word in the notes, if anyone cares,
and I hope to not have such a challenging time doing my work in the future, so
I can do the final edit that is invariably necessary.
* *
*
Pratibha responded to Mike’s essay:
'silence in the mind occurs after many situations, work,
thoughts in the mind controlled, and so on -- these are lower samadhis due to
concentration on objects or thoughts'