If we tidy and clean our houses enough, we might one day notice that Divinity has been sitting in there all along. (LOL p.18)
In the last couple of months, we have explored Patañjali’s account of human suffering in its various guises. This month, we finally arrive at the last step in Patañjali’s fourfold model of healing, his treatment plan. What do we need to do in order to avoid future suffering? What treatment does he prescribe for us? Before looking at this, it will be worth reminding ourselves of a key point from last month. The ignorance (avidyā) which Patañjali identified as the root cause of suffering is ultimately an existential ignorance regarding our essential nature, rather than an intellectual mistake that can simply be remedied with a little bit of philosophical instruction. Any effective remedy will need to bring about a change in how we actually experience ourselves.
The treatment plan
In II.26, Patañjali prescribes a treatment of “discriminative discernment without interruption” (viveka-khyāti aviplavā) as a means to attaining liberation from suffering.
viveka-khyātir aviplavā hānopāyaḥ. (II.26)
Discriminative discernment without interruption is the means to liberation.
An initial response to Patañjali’s guidance here might be that it is a little abstract—what precisely is it that we are meant to be discerning? How are we to achieve this discriminating discernment? We can already answer the first question from our previous studies of the second chapter (pāda). We know that the lack of clarity regarding our true nature is at the heart of human suffering. More specifically, it is our tendency to identify with a diminished sense of self that leads us into an unhealthy relationship with the natural world. The discriminative discernment required to free ourselves from suffering is a discernment between a transcendent sense of Self (puruṣa) and the ego-self (asmitā). As we have seen, the egoism that is spawned by ignorance (avidyā) creates a distorted sense of self which leads to a cascade of afflictions (kleṣas), binding us to the natural world in ways that lead us into suffering. We have to shift the very core of our being away from this ego-centrism. B.K.S. Iyengar describes this transition as, “the cessation of the impersonating ego and the dawn of the true unified Self, beyond which there is no other.” (LOL p. 16)
It seems that Patañjali anticipates our second question, as to how we can actually attain this discriminative discernment, explaining in II.28:
yogāṅgānuṣṭhānād aśuddhikṣaye jñānadīptir āvivekakhyāter. (II.28)
From the practice of the limbs of yoga, having destroyed impurities, the light of knowledge shines forth, leading us to discriminative discernment.
Uninterrupted discriminative discernment is therefore achieved as a result of two things occurring: the destruction of impurities within us, which then allows an inner light to shine forth. The stronger this inner light of the Seer/Self shines, the less likely we are to fall into existential confusion and identify ourselves with the ego-self. Furthermore, Patañjali tells us in this sūtra that impurities are destroyed by practicing the limbs of yoga, thereby allowing the inner light to shine. At last, we have arrived at the set of practices that Patañjali is best known for, collectively known as aṣṭāṅga yoga. “Aṣṭa aṅga” means eight limbs, and the set consists of eight linked practices. Together, these practices address many facets of human life and constitute a life path, akin to the Noble Eightfold Path of Buddhism. They are, in the order given by Patañjali in II.29, as follows:
(i) Yama (universal ethical principles), consisting of ahiṁsā non-harming, satya truthfulness, asteya non-stealing, brahmacarya continence, and aparigraha non-grasping
(ii) Niyama (personal disciplines), consisting of śauca purity, santoṣa contentment, tapas austerity, svādhyāya self/scriptural-study, īśvara praṇidhāna dedication to a chosen deity
(iii) Āsana (posture)
(iv) Prāṇāyāma (breath control)
(v) Pratyāhāra (sense withdrawal)
(vi) Dhāraṇā (concentation)
(vii) Dhyāna (meditation)
(viii) Samādhi (Self-realization)
There is much that can be said about this eight-limbed path. A good place to start is to think about the relationship between these eight limbs.
Interpretive metaphors
Various metaphors have been given to help us understand the relationship between the limbs.
(i) The ladder. This is an organizing metaphor which gives the limbs a hierarchical order. Clearly, there is some hierarchy to the eight limbs. Patañjali emphasizes that the first limb, consisting of the yamas or ethical practices, must provide the framework for all of the other limbs. The yamas are therefore foundational to the practice of yoga, and without this ethical foundation there can be no legitimate practice of yoga. A second example of hierarchy is that Patañjali states that prāṇāyāma should be attempted only after there is a good foundation in the practice of the āsanas. The limbs should not, however, be viewed as strictly hierarchical and separate from each other, in the sense that one should not proceed to the next rung without having completely achieved proficiency in a lower rung—otherwise we would probably never progress beyond the first rung of ethical practices!
(ii) The petals. The idea that the limbs work together towards a common goal is better conveyed in the metaphor of the limbs being like the petals on a flower (see LOL p.10) or the spokes of a wheel. The beauty of the flower rests on all of the petals being there together. This conveys the idea that the eight limbs are not like an à la carte menu where you can pick and choose. Just as the beauty of a flower rests on all of its petals, the completeness of the yoga practice rests on all of the eight limbs.
(iii) The onion/Russian dolls. A metaphor which gives a directional trajectory to the eight limbs as we move from practices that address external dimensions of human behaviors to practices that impact the innermost layers of the human psyche (see LOL p.4). This is like peeling through the layers of an onion. (In one yoga schematization, the human being is viewed as consisting of different layers or sheaths known as kośas.) These practices are therefore designed to create order throughout all of the layers of our being, from our periphery to our core. Thus, the yamas begin with the person in their most expansive sense—that is, the person as a social individual, and move from there to the niyamas, individual disciplines. From there we move to the āsanas (bodily practices), and from there, continuing with this inward journey, to prāṇāyāma (the breath) and then to pratyāhāra (control of the senses). The final three contemplative limbs (dhāraṇā, dhyāna and samādhi) are concerned more directly with the internal ordering of the human psyche. The Russian doll metaphor further conveys the idea that, as we move inwards, human beings transcend the particularities of their ego-selves. At the level of the transcendent Self, we have left behind that self which gives us a personal identity, just as the innermost of the nesting dolls lacks the details of the outermost dolls.
(iv) The hall of mirrors. A metaphor suggesting the ways in which the practices are interconnected. The eight limbs are thus seen as interdependent and interpenetrating facets of one practice, rather than eight separate limbs. For example, āsana, when performed correctly, encompasses all of the other limbs, because a correctly performed āsana should be done in both an ethical and contemplative manner. B.K.S. Iyengar pioneered a methodology of teaching āsana in such a way as to be a vehicle for all eight limbs.
Interpretive metaphors give us multiple ways to reflect on the connections between the eight limbs of yoga. We can also think about common threads that link all of these different practices together.
Removal of impurities
The eight limbs of yoga lead to discriminative discernment because of their common efficacy in removing impurities. Analogy can be helpful here. If I am looking at myself in a dirty mirror, in order to see myself clearly, I will polish the mirror and remove the dirt. Impurity, in the context of yoga, is to be understood as any feature of ourselves that fosters an identification with the ego-self, taking us away from Self. We can begin to grasp this idea with examples from our everyday lives when we say such things as, “I’m not myself today, I have a headache,” or, to quote the Snickers ad, “You’re not you when you’re hungry!” More profoundly, we all experience things at a deeper psychic level that diminish us, that take us way from the Selves that we aspire to be. Being jealous of someone else’s possessions or achievements, being smug or vengeful about someone else’s failures or lashing out in anger in response to criticism would all be examples of impurities, because they are all behaviors that distance us from the deeper Self. In moments of envy, for example, we feel small and compromised. Such behaviors have the ego-self as their fountainhead. Patañjali is offering us a set of practices to remove all those things that ail us and make us not ourselves. When we look at the wide range of practices offered within this eight-limbed system, we can see a common thread of purification linking them all, where purification connotes cleansing us of egoism.
Viveka-khyāti aviplavā
When we look at these practices, we can see how comprehensive they are and how they give substance to Patañjali’s prescription that we practice discriminative discernment without interruption. Viveka-khyāti aviplavā asks us to pay attention to all of our actions, choices and behaviors all of the time. The eight limbs of yoga give practical guidance as to how we can bring viveka-khyāti into all dimensions of our lives. Looking at the eight limbs of yoga, we come to understand that the practice of yoga must reach into everything that we do and that yoga equates to a life path. Like a broad spectrum antibiotic, these are practices designed to heal a broad range of psycho-physical ailments that take us away from the Self/Seer. This might seem daunting, holding us to an impossibly high standard. Another way of looking at this is that it gives us multiple opportunities to practice yoga. The large task of reorienting ourselves towards a less ego-centered life is broken down into a myriad of smaller, more manageable tasks.
This idea is reflected in the classical commentary of Vyāsa, who notes that if we have a thorn in our foot, we will remove the pain in the foot by removing the thorn. Of course, he adds, it would be better if we took care not to step on the thorn in the first place. His proposal is that if we take care of all of the little thorns poking us and avoid poking ourselves with new thorns, then gradually the bigger problem will be taken care of. This is an apt description of the eight limbs of yoga –they are a set of practices that remove all of the little accumulated thorns poking us and distancing us from Self, without at the same time poking ourselves with new thorns. So often we deal with suffering in ways which ultimately create future suffering. Self-medicating with alcohol to reduce present unhappiness, for example, may temporarily remove a present thorn but inevitably there is a cost. In removing one thorn, I am creating a new thorn and hence future suffering.
Practices
An important thing to notice about the eight limbs of yoga is that they are all practices. These limbs are Patañjali’s blueprint for transforming the human psyche in order to reduce our burden of suffering. If I want to become a proficient piano player, I have to practice every day to turn myself into a piano player. I cannot will myself to be a piano player and I don’t become a piano player by thinking about it. I have to play the piano every day to train my muscles and my brain into those of a piano player. Likewise, to become someone who can live a Self-realized life, I have to repeatedly engage in the practices outlined in the eight limbs of yoga. This is particularly important when, for example, we look at the practices contained in the yamas and niyamas. Often, we think of ethical precepts as rules or commandments laid down by some external authority. Patañjali is not laying down a set of laws for us to follow, but rather giving us a set of practices to follow and internalize, in order to reduce our ego-centrism. Non-violence should not be experienced as an external constraint on our behavior, but it should be repeatedly practiced until it takes root in the psyche and becomes part of our very nature. A psyche imbued with non-violence is also a psyche that has gone a long way towards shedding ego-centrism. The centrality of practice in Patañjali’s philosophy is closely tied to his understanding of the human mind, a topic which we will explore next time.
Concluding thoughts
In conclusion, we can see that Patañjali offers us no magic bullet or simple solution to the plight of human suffering. The solution rests on a complex and effortful set of practices that, over time, bring about a comprehensive change in our human condition—ethically, somatically, psychologically, and ultimately, spiritually. Practices that cultivate ethical behaviors, psychological well-being and good health constitute and are integral to the path towards spiritual liberation. He gives us multiple ways to start on this journey and assures us that all our efforts contribute towards our goal of spiritual well-being, like the person who achieves their wealth by saving small amounts of money on a regular basis. By setting our houses in order, that transcendent Self within us will shine more brightly and, in comparison, the power of the ego-self will dim.
Joy Laine taught philosophy at Macalester College for over thirty years and teaches Iyengar Yoga around the Twin Cities.
Sources and Further Study
B.K.S. Iyengar Light On Life (LOL) Rodale Books, 2006.
Ram Prasāda, The Yoga Darśana of Patañjali (Logos Press 2005, originally published in 1912).
