Can the goals of yoga: the cessation of thoughts, the entrance into the mystery beyond, be achieved without yoga? Without the 8 limbs we cling to throughout our practice? I am beginning to wonder.
One day last week I grabbed my journal as soon as I woke up and for 50 minutes poured my soul into it. Poured my dreams from the night before. The missing of my mother, my anxiety about career, my anxiety about...just about.
When I finally put down the pen the image of the dream appeared again. So I drew it. Another hour. Drawing, coloring.
The exercise was so powerful that insights kept coming and I thought I should write some more. But I could not. I had to stop.
The room became quiet, the light coming through the window was slow moving and had particles, I could hear the church bells in the distance and the birds chirping, and then: warm, quiet silence.
I stayed in this empty state for about half an hour. Then reality came rushing back with thoughts of hunger, having to cook and so on. But I wondered... Was this not withdrawing of the senses? Was this not what we in yoga call: prathyahara?
Pratyahara is the fifth step in the eight limbs of yoga, the one that comes after we gain some level of peace in our lives through the do's and don'ts of the first two steps, then purify the body with asana (step three), breath deeper and longer in step four and then sense withdrawal, prathyahara, this fifth step, where the senses go within, where the only focus is inside, where there is nothing but the breath, nothing but pure presence.
On that day it occurred to me that there is not just one way of getting to this stage.
The strict formalities of the yoga practice escape me at this point, I am yet not able to retain the breath for 48 seconds for example, which is one of the pre-requisites for "proper" prathyahara as practiced by yogis of lineage, the ones that follow the scriptures to the "t".
I am on the other hand, a humble mortal western living in this time near New York City. I continue with my practice, of course, but I don't know how long it will take.
And yet the silence I experienced was one that I have never felt before. It was no-thing. There was nothing to look at or smell, or think about or feel or taste, but also, nothing to "psyche" over.
The exhaustion, if temporary, of the mental activities came to terms by itself once I gave the images that were lurking enough leeway to express themselves, to show what they had to tell me, to come out and play, to live.
It did not much matter how I was sited or how I was breathing. The rapture just came to be.
Could it be -I wonder- that the strict way of the eight limbs is not just the only way? Could it be there are many ways?
What if instead of letting our thoughts go, observe and let pass, as we do when we attempt to meditate, we were to sometimes (not always as yoga still has its place at least for me) let them out for air, talk to them, investigate them, see the part of our own life mythology that they are pointing to, give them a chance to express what they may want to tell us, even ask them questions?
What other possibilities may then appear on the horizon? What other states can be reached? That is, if we allow ourselves to keep grounded, but try out new things nevertheless?
One day last week I grabbed my journal as soon as I woke up and for 50 minutes poured my soul into it. Poured my dreams from the night before. The missing of my mother, my anxiety about career, my anxiety about...just about.
When I finally put down the pen the image of the dream appeared again. So I drew it. Another hour. Drawing, coloring.
The exercise was so powerful that insights kept coming and I thought I should write some more. But I could not. I had to stop.
The room became quiet, the light coming through the window was slow moving and had particles, I could hear the church bells in the distance and the birds chirping, and then: warm, quiet silence.
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| this looks kind of like my journal it's from this artist |
Pratyahara is the fifth step in the eight limbs of yoga, the one that comes after we gain some level of peace in our lives through the do's and don'ts of the first two steps, then purify the body with asana (step three), breath deeper and longer in step four and then sense withdrawal, prathyahara, this fifth step, where the senses go within, where the only focus is inside, where there is nothing but the breath, nothing but pure presence.
On that day it occurred to me that there is not just one way of getting to this stage.
The strict formalities of the yoga practice escape me at this point, I am yet not able to retain the breath for 48 seconds for example, which is one of the pre-requisites for "proper" prathyahara as practiced by yogis of lineage, the ones that follow the scriptures to the "t".
I am on the other hand, a humble mortal western living in this time near New York City. I continue with my practice, of course, but I don't know how long it will take.
And yet the silence I experienced was one that I have never felt before. It was no-thing. There was nothing to look at or smell, or think about or feel or taste, but also, nothing to "psyche" over.
 |
| A room of one's own (From Pinterest) |
It did not much matter how I was sited or how I was breathing. The rapture just came to be.
Could it be -I wonder- that the strict way of the eight limbs is not just the only way? Could it be there are many ways?
What if instead of letting our thoughts go, observe and let pass, as we do when we attempt to meditate, we were to sometimes (not always as yoga still has its place at least for me) let them out for air, talk to them, investigate them, see the part of our own life mythology that they are pointing to, give them a chance to express what they may want to tell us, even ask them questions?
What other possibilities may then appear on the horizon? What other states can be reached? That is, if we allow ourselves to keep grounded, but try out new things nevertheless?
The answer to your question would depend largely on what you believe/what tradition you follow and their belief about what the goal of yoga is.
ReplyDeleteThe goal of yoga for Patanjali's Yoga Sutras is not Pratyahara or emptiness or a quiet mind. It isn't even "Citta-vrtti nirodhah"; that is his definition of yoga, not his statement of its goal. Patanjali states the goal of yoga as the culmination of discerning insight combined with dispassion. This culminates in a state he calls "Dharma-megha-samadhi", the highest samadhi state before the highest attainment: Kaivalya. Thus, for Patanjali the goal of yoga is liberation, Kaivalya. Pratyahara, quietude etc. are simply the tools that aid in getting there. Even Samadhi is just the tool according to Patanjali, it is not the end goal. When the mind has the ability to combine concentration, absorption and eveness (Samyama) then that is used to progress the various stages of Samadhi with content and without. This tool is then used to see the content of existence for what it actually is, discriminate between the unreal and the real and ultimately find the release.
For Pattabhi Jois, the goal of yoga is the Advaita Vedanta goal of a direct perception of one's unification with the highest reality. This is the indefinable Brahman. Thus, the tool of Samadhi would be used to directly perceive that oneness.
Either way, the 8-limbs and mental quietude etc. are not end results nor are they goals. They are tools and signs.
Hi Ralph, good to hear from you.
ReplyDeleteYes these steps are not the goal in itself, nobody that I know other than maybe Eckart Tolle, knows of the goal itself... or has experienced it, maybe the ones that know speak not of it, so yes, they are steps, so are these other techniques.
In the end they are two ways to get the Self talking to the ego, the purusha talking to the prakrriti, the unification with the highest reality... they are the same thing, different words, but same thing. At least that is how I see it.
Love the idea of keeping a journal and writing down your dreams every morning. Imagine going back to them when you're older. Thanks Claudia.
ReplyDelete:-)
ReplyDeleteI just picked up a book called, "The war of art." Skimming through it today, makes me think of this post. If you haven't read it, I think you'll like it.
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