Two birds, close linked companions,
Cling to the self same tree;
Of these the one eats the sweet fruit,
The other, nothing eating, looks on intent.
On the selfsame tree a person is plunged into grief
Mourning his lack of mastery,
Perplexed;
When he sees the other, the Lord, rejoicing
In his majesty, his sorrow melts away.
Svetasvatara Upanisad IV.6-7
(translated by R.C. Zaehner, Hindu Scriptures)
“Who are you?” How would you answer this question? I might say things like: “I’m a yoga teacher,” “I’m a mother,” or “I’m a woman in my sixties” and so forth. All of us could come up with many such “I am……” statements, and the more we repeat them, the stronger we tend to identify ourselves with them. They define how we see ourselves and give us our sense of personal identity. Patañjali believes that by doing this we are in danger of falling into an existential ignorance about our essential nature, and this is the fundamental cause of our suffering.
Last month we looked at the second step in Patañjali’s fourfold diagnostic model of healing, namely, the cause of suffering. We have been working our way through sūtras 15-28 in Book Two of the Yoga Sūtras, in which Patañjali gives us an overview of these fourfold steps, namely, the nature of suffering, its cause, its cure and finally, a treatment plan. In II.24, Patañjali tells us that ignorance (avidyā) is the cause of our suffering and hence the third step, the cure, follows logically—that if we remove the ignorance then we remove the suffering. Although we began to explore the nature of ignorance last time, we still need a fuller understanding of the psychological reality of avidyā and the role it plays in human suffering. We can do this by going back to the opening sections of Book Two, where Patañjali explores the nature of ignorance from more of a psychological perspective. This will be our focus for this month.
At the beginning of the second pāda (II.3), Patañjali lists five psychological afflictions (kleṣa) which pervade human experience, and ignorance heads the list. The five afflictions are:
(i) avidyā (not-seeing, ignorance)
(ii) asmitā (I am-ness/ego)
(iii) rāga (desire)
(iv) dveṣa (aversion)
(v) abhiniveśa (clinging to life, fear of death)
Patañjali presents these five afflictions as a descriptive and factual truth about human existence. These afflictions are the “default” setting for all human beings at their birth. They are not a collective punishment, nor are they the consequence of something done long ago by distant ancestors, as is the case with the idea of “original sin.” Neither Patañjali nor the commentators attempt an explanation for their existence, but merely describe them as beginning-less – this is just how we are. They are not intrinsic to the human condition, however, since they can ultimately be overcome through practices such as yoga. Collectively, these afflictions pervade human experience and shape how we act. In so doing, they bind us to a world of suffering.
By exploring the ways in which the afflictions are expressed in human action, we get to the heart of Patañjali’s understanding of suffering. Ignorance was given as the root cause of suffering because it is the cause of the connection/confusion between the Seer and the seen. In the context of the kleṣas, ignorance appears as the first in a list of five psychological afflictions, a positioning that is no accident. Sanskrit philosophy is permeated by lists of things – it is a way of ordering/categorizing the world. In any list, it was a common practice to place the most important item first, and in his list of kleṣas, Patañjali follows this practice. Indeed, he tells us in II.4 that ignorance is the most important of all of the afflictions and is the hatching ground for the other four. If we look at the list of the afflictions, we can see that there is a cascading effect from one to the next. The list of the kleṣas really tells a story of the psychological repercussions of our metaphysical and existential confusion of Seer and seen. In following the ripple effect of ignorance in our psyches, we will understand how ignorance brings about suffering.
In II.5, Patañjali defines avidyā as mistaking the transient for the permanent, the impure for the pure, that which suffers for that which is joyful, and not-Self for Self. This is another, more detailed way of saying that ignorance causers a confusion between seen and Seer, or between the material (prakṛti) and spiritual aspects (puruṣa) of our existence. The Seer is eternal, pure, free of suffering and the real Self, whereas all other aspects of human life are not so.
Avidyā spawns the next affliction, asmitā (egoism), which is the initial and primary way that avidyā manifests in our psyches and creates suffering. It does this for two main reasons. First, the ego-self is where we are most likely to fall into an existential ignorance, to confuse the transient with the permanent (etc.), and to believe that the ego-self is who we really are. Second, the ego-self motivates us to act in ways that are more likely to cause us to suffer.
What does Patañjali mean by egoism? “Asmi-tā” literally means “I am-ness,” the feeling that we have of being an “I,” of being at the center of our lives. Asmitā is described by Patañjali as conflating the Seer with the instrumental power of seeing. The ego is the instrument through which we interact with the world. We all function in the world on the basis of our human cognitive and physical capabilities and a sense of who we are, distinct individuals separate from other individuals. As I go about my business in the world, for example, I do so with a sense of my place in the world, what I am capable of, how others will see me, etc. All of this, broadly speaking, falls under the umbrella of my ego-self.
There is nothing wrong with the ego per se. Indeed, it is a necessary tool of survival, the way in which we are able to come to know the world and interact successfully with it. It is why I eat when I’m hungry. Egoism is the affliction that arises when we equate our identity with this instrumental part of ourselves and allow our existence to become ego-centric. If we do this then we have equated ourselves with something that is impermanent. By casting our lot with the ego-self, we are putting ourselves on a path that will inevitably cause us to suffer. Furthermore, if we identify with the ego-self, we will be less likely to look more deeply into ourselves to see if there is anything beyond the ego-self.
There is a clear connection between this idea and the opening sūtras of the Yoga Sūtras:
yogaś cittavṛtti nirodhaḥ.
Yoga is the stilling of the turnings of the mind.
tadā draṣṭuḥ svarūpe’vasthānam.
Then, the Seer will be established in its own true nature.
vṛrti-sārūpyam itaratra
Otherwise, there will be an identification with the turnings of the mind. (I.2-4)
In these sūtras, Patañjali defines the practice of yoga as a practice which will allow the Seer to be established in its true nature. The practice of yoga will allow us to experience ourselves in a new way. Patañjali’s promise at the beginning of the text is that if we succeed in the practice of yoga, then we will experience a deeper sense of Self that lies beyond the ego-self and is free of its imperfections. The existence of the Seer is not something that has to be taken on faith, but is something that can ultimately be experienced by each one of us.
When we view ourselves through the spectacles of the ego-self, we feel happy with our successes but saddened by what we view as our failures. Our sense of self-worth will wax and wane along with how well we judge our lives to be going. As Patañjali states in I.4, if we are unable to experience ourselves in a more transcendent way, we will identify with whatever mental state we happen to be in at any given time. We can relate this to the question posed at the beginning—“Who are you?” If I equate myself with being a yoga teacher, or with being a mother, or a woman in her sixties, then what happens when these things may no longer accurately describe who I am? Change is intrinsic to the material world, and as our lives move through time, things that once gave us a sense of our identity may no longer hold true of who we are.
When we view the world wearing the spectacles of the ego, then the whole world becomes oriented around the needs, the likes and dislikes of the ego-self. It is all too easy to fall into making our ego-self the focal point from which we experience the whole world. Egoism then spawns the terrible twins of aversion and desire. “I am…” statements all too easily translate into “I want …” statements. We navigate our lives through this binary of polar opposites, trying to acquire that which we desire and avoid that which causes us pain.
The classical commentators tell us that satisfying one desire is like throwing fuel onto a fire, for a new and even stronger desire will spring up to take its place. Today I may want a new car, tomorrow I will want an even bigger and better car. We can never find peace or lasting happiness by following the road of trying to satisfy the ego’s desires, for they are insatiable. Desire and aversion may be the products of the ego-self, but they are also its fuel, strengthening the hold of the ego-self on our existence. The fifth affliction, a fear of death, is a strong and natural fear that arises from our identification with the ego-self, with that which is subject to change, decay and ultimately extinction. The ego-self arises from the material world and so will at some point dissolve back into the material matrix from which it came.
We currently live in a culture that provides the individual with multiple tools for constructing an elaborate ego identity; for example, through numerous social media outlets. We also live in a culture where enormous resources are invested to escalate and feed the desires of the ego-self. Indeed, our very culture seems to be designed to reinforce an identification with the ego-self, at a time when empirical studies show that this does not make us happy and content. We do best when we direct our efforts outwards, pursuing projects for their own sake and caring for others. Egoism is not an effective strategy to avoid suffering in our lives.
We cannot, however, discount the importance of the ego-self and the impact that our social identities have on us. Patañjali teaches a distinction between a transcendental Self (puruṣa/Seer) and the ego-self, and teaches that human suffering arises when we equate our existence with the ego-self. Puruṣa is a transcendent Self beyond identity markers such as gender, race or social class. As transcendent Selves, the differences between us dissolve. This poses challenges for us. One challenge is how to reconcile the value placed on the transcendental Self with the fact that we also value and love particular people for who they are as distinct individuals. Secondly, we cannot discount the importance of our social identities and bypass or dismiss the impact that they have on our lives. For example, following the path of yoga does not necessarily imply that we can ignore questions of social justice in the pursuit of Self-Realization.
Next time, when we examine the fourth step in Patañjali’s fourfold model of healing, the practice of yoga, we will have an opportunity to explore the relationship between the two Selves (Self and self, puruṣa and asmitā) in more depth.
Joy Laine teaches philosophy at Macalester College and Iyengar Yoga around the Twin Cities.
Sources and Further Study
B.K.S. Iyengar. Light on Life, especially Chapters Three and Six. In Chapter Three, Guruji explores the emotional disturbances that arise from the kleṣas.
Narasimhan, Popsi. The Yoga Sūtras: A Collection of Translations. (Popsi Narasimhan, 2018).
Zaehner, R.C. Hindu Scriptures. (University of California, 1996).
