[Note: For simplicity I have used the common English convention of writing the key term as Ishvara.  Sanskritists often use different accents or diacritical marks, but the “Ishvara” spelling is also common and easier on English keyboards. Most sutras use the Edwin Bryant translation, but BKS Iyengar’s Light on the Yoga Sutras and  other commentators have been consulted.]

“God” (Ishvara) Sutras in Patanjali’s Sutras

Sutras in Patanjali, and in other traditions (including Buddhism) are cryptic aphorisms that need decoding and elucidation from a teacher or commentator.  Reading them on your own for the first time is difficult and not the way they were intended.  They are typically the codification or condensation of some teaching, strung together like beads on a thread.  This metaphor is a common one, because some grammarians suggest that sutra is related to the word “suture” and means a thread  along which beads or pearls (aphorisms) are strung. Whether this is literally true, the metaphor does point to the cryptic nature of the sutras and the need for commentary and discussion  It also reminds us that there is enormous room for dispute and different interpretations. As if that were not enough, there are various translations that might be made from a given sutra — words and meanings typically have to be elaborated to make an intelligible sentence.  This gives an idea of the richness of the centuries-long discussion around this classic codification of yoga.   It is also a reason that any commentary (let alone a few superficial ones such as mine) is a selection of meanings that are open to discussion.

Commentaries and debates about Patanjali’s “theism” have extended for over 2000 years.  Part of their importance for today’s practitioners is that they show that yogis of many different theological beliefs have for centuries found an acceptable position that allowed them to benefit from the path of the sutras.  Furthermore, if the goal of the sutras is to chart a path of practice toward Samadhi, then a theological commitment may advantageous for some, but it is not a requirement for a fruitful practice in yoga. This is important when considering when the 2000-year-old sutras concerning Ishvara (God, Lord, Higher Power) are examined.

There are ten specific mentions of Ishvara in the Sutras of Patanjali.  Most of them mention Ishvara as a universal spirit.  None specifies Ishvara a particular God or entity, whether in the Vedantic or in any other religious system.

This bears repeating: Ishvara in the sutras is ambiguous and open to interpretation — it does not specify a specific god or theology. Like yogis for many centuries, you are free to define Ishvara in terms of your own heritage tradition, or simply to defer judgment until that concept seems important to you.

Edwin Bryant meticulously combs the sutras and the classic commentaries for evidence of Patanjali’s theism. He points out that Ishvara is mentioned often and in critical places, and that the best (but by no means conclusive) evidence is that he may have belonged to the Vishnaivite tradition of worship.  Byant finds it unlikely that Patanjali could avoid being influenced by the dominant religious ethos of the time, and finds the worship of Vishnu to be most plausible.  However, that is never stated in the sutras — they are formally neutral and ecumenical, referring to a God, or Lord without any specificity.

Bryant finds Patanjali “too sophisticated and secular” to get involved in sectarian religious discussion.  To specify the exact nature of a Higher Power would be irrelevant and distracting because it would distract practitioners from the main purpose of Patanjali which is to describe the path to Samadhi.

What Bryant does conclude is that the sutras are “theistic” and assume a Higher Power or God (even though that deity is not given a name or connected to a theology).

There are other commentaries that believe Patanjali was neutral, or agnostic.  Some even assert the compatibility of the sutras with an atheistic position. These debates over Patanjali’s theism have extended for over 2000 years of commentary.  Part of their importance for today’s practitioners is diversity of commentary indicates that yogis of many different theological beliefs have for centuries found an acceptable position that allowed them to benefit from the path of the sutras.  Furthermore, if the goal of the sutras is to chart a path of practice toward Samadhi, then a theological commitment of any sort is not a requirement to fruitful practice (though its value is emphasized in the final sutra discussed below).

Unfortunately, this leads into some confusing concepts and disagreements that most practical yogis may want to bypass.  At any rate, here is a superficial perspective on “dualism:”

A last point is that are a least two dualisms of importance in the sutras. One is (1) in the nature of god, the other (2) in the nature of the “soul.”

In (1) dualistic separation between a universal God and human.  One is a universal “soul” or essence, while the other is an individual soul or essence.  Humans are not part of God but are separate essences or entities.  This is usually identified as a dvaita view – a dualist view of the separate nature of God and humans.  There is an alternate historical/philosophical position known as advaita (nondualism) that sees God and humans as part of the same universal essence.  There is obviously much more to all this than that, but the most broadly accepted belief is that Patanjali represents a position that is theistic and dualistic (dvaita).  Also clear is that later commentators have also provided perspectives that are non-dualistic, agnostic or even atheist.  Whatever Patanjali might have meant, sutras were reinterpreted in many ways and for many different theological purposes.

The comments here are a fairly conventional interpretation of the “God” sutras as dualistic, theistic, and ecumenical. However, this becomes a bit murky for Westerners as they become aware that Hindu mythology and religion have a multiplicity of gods, demigods, demons and other entities that one worships, fears or struggles against.  Some of these entities may take human form for a time and even mate with humans, producing yet another category of semi-divine beings.  However, all this is irrelevant to Patanjali because God and “gods” are never specified and these entities from religion and myth do not figure in the Sutras. There is no need for any of these entities, and they are not needed for the path of yoga described by Patanjali — theology is only distracting. For this reason, the sutras can be approached in an ecumenical or agnostic or tolerant way.

The other dualism (2) is the identification of something called the Seer, sometimes             described as Atman (“soul,” more or less).  The Atman is an essence that is untouched by the raw material (primordial matter) of the world (prakriti).  The Seer is is pure and clear perception, the essence of the human; however, it is obscured by contact with the world and its temptations, desires, attachments, pride, anger and greed.  These must be tamed or eliminated through practice to reach jivatman—the liberated soul.

Translators in the Western tradition often identify Atman with the Christian Soul, creating all sorts of theological and doctrinal confusions.  For most practitioners, it is difficult to conceptualize reaching a soul, of Christian description, through the path of yoga; their own faith prescribes a different path.  It is best to avoid altogether the notion of “Soul” when talking about the inner yogic essence because it confounds the unfamiliar (Atman) with something familiar that is not the same.

Another dualism is the 2,500 year-old one between yoga and Buddhism.  In Buddhist practice there is a concept that is roughly similar to Atman, but described as the opposite.  this is the “Buddha nature” that all people have — yet that nature is obscured by contact with the attachments and fears of the world.  In both yoga and buddhism, the person suffers through ignorance and delusion, and uncovering the deeper nature is the goal of practice.  Yet in yoga the inner nature is a self (atman), and in buddhism it is one of no-self (anatman).  .  Most of us practitioners do not expect to solve this difference in our lifetimes, so we can draw some comfort from the Dalai Lama who once told a group of yogis. “Atman, nonatman, no difference.” In other words, he seemed to be saying: “let’s recognize our similarities and get on with our practice.”

Another vital dualism in Patanjali is the distinction between matter (prakriti) and spirit (purusa).  Purusa often refers to the Seer or the Soul (the spirit within the individual), but it is sometimes used to mean the ineffable universal level of the cosmos.  The various usages and crossed meanings of purusa are made more complicated by the historical debate over whether there is one purusa (a universal one of which the individuals are all part of God — as in “a cell in the mind of God), or whether there are two sorts of purusa, a universal one and many individual ones (ii.e., the individual atman). Some of this may be a problem of translation in which the English “soul,” “essence,” and “self” are used differently by various translators, but part of it reflects different philosophical positions among commentators.

To simplify this for the moment, we can simply follow Bryant’s definitions: Purusa is Self/soul; atman also is “self/essence” (or Seer); and prakriti is primordial matter or “nature.”  These words will get us by a reading of the sutras, but the underlying theological debates are a matter for experts and not the average practitioner.

In fairness, I think, the last two paragraphs are probably not very important to the average yogi who just wants to master ekapada raj Kapotasana. It is more the stuff of theologians, sectarians and philosophers whose distinctions are far finer than those here, and whose arguments are not very interesting in the everyday world of hatha yoga practice.  However, we can keep some of these thoughts in mind as we take a look at the Ishvara sutras in Patanjali.  They occur in the first chapter (Samadhi Pada), and the second chapter (Sadhana Pada).

God in the Sutras

In the first appearance of “Ishvara” in the sutras:

1.23 Ishvara pranidhana (worship of the Lord)

This is the first mention of Ishvara in the sutras. In the context of this sutra, Ishvara pranidhana is given as one option for reaching clarity, Samadhi, or enlightenment.   Bryant notes that of the six classic darshanas – schools of traditional Indian thought – five are theistic.  This includes yoga and sankhya, the philosophical system closely connected with yoga.  However, the theism is not dogmatic and sectarian – it does not name a particular god or higher power but leaves that open for the practitioner.  It is not mandatory here, though it is presented in some other literature as the primary way; for example, the Bhagavad Gita contrasts the path of karma yoga – the yoga of action and service – from that of bhakti yoga – the path of devotion and worship.  Karma yoga is recommended for the warrior Arjuna as the path for him, but bhakti yoga is presented as the supreme path.

1.24.  The Lord is a special soul.  He is untouched by the obstacles [to the practice of yoga], karma, the fructification [of karma], and subconscious predispositions.

Ishvara is an essence that is not touched by the limitations of humankind, the law of karma, and the accumulation of human tendencies and habit energies. Whatever this essence is, it represents the qualities that humans hope to achieve through yoga.  It is a model of human aspiration — to be free of all the attachments and afflictions that keep us from reaching the Seer, atman, purusa.  .

1.25     In him, the seed of omniscience is unsurpassed.

This god is omniscience and not limited by those attachments that afflict humans (and the gods and entities of Hindu mythology).

1.26      Ishvara was also the teacher of the ancients, because he is not limited by Time.

In the vast Indian view of time, only one essence is free from its cycles and turmoil.  Though Ishvara is not personified, it is marked by omniscience and timelessness.

Notice also that Ishvara is referred to as masculine, even though the notion of a gendered essence, seems nonsensical.  This is partly a translation problem – rendered as “he,” the concept not-so-subtly slips into the masculine gender normativity common in traditional Western discourse.

(Note: For a glimpse of Hindu time, see the post on Kali Yug in this blog.  It is filled with incarnations of Vishnu, cosmic battles, and a world of theology and legend that is totally absent in Patanjali).

1.27     “The name designating him is the mystical syllable om.  (Also rendered as “His word/syllable is OM.”

In his commentary on Patanjali, Edwin Bryant points out that there is a different om salutation for each of the classic entities.  This is a reminder that OM itself does not refer to a specific deity, but is a general salutation and invocation.  Therefore, it is only in the pairing of OM with a deity that Ishvara takes on a sectarian identity.  This does not happen in Patanjali.

Om namo Narayana (Vishnu/Narayana, for the Vishnaivite traditions)

Om namah sivaya (for the Shiva/Shaivite traditions)

Om namo bhagavate Vasudevaya (for the Krishna tradition).

1.28 Its [OM’s] repetition and the contemplation of its meaning [should be performed]

Patanjali refers here to necessity of constant practice and reflection.  Extended repetition of a mantra is referred to as japa, and in some ways would be familiar to members of other religions that use rosaries, prayer beads and similar objects to guide repetitive prayer and invocation.

1.29 From this comes the realization of the inner consciousness and freedom from all disturbances

Patanjali now transitions in the next sutra to enumerate the disturbances that interfere with practice and the reaching Samadhi, the stage of enlightenment. These disturbances are well known in the practice of asana where we repeat them to remind ourselves of the obstacles of our minds that disturb our progress. Repetition of the mantra OM is recommended as a practice to control the disturbances to our practice.

Chapter (Pada) II is well among Western yogis because of its emphasis on the path of action, that of practice rather than enlightenment or special yogic powers.  These two sutras are linked, with II.1 acting as a preview to practice described later in II.32, which is an elaboration of desirable elements of personal discipline and practice (niyamas):

II.1 “Kriya-yoga, the path of action, consists of self-discipline (tapas), study (svadyaya), and dedication to the Lord (ishvara pranidhana).

This sutra describes “the path of action,” rather than the path of devotion.  What is needed to follow that path is discipline, study, and dedication to a higher power.  Here again there is no definition of which Ishvara that might be and theology or specific religious practice is not mentioned.  It states only that the path of action requires some concept of a power higher than oneself.  In actual daily yoga life, of course, many yogis get along well with tapas and svadyaya, leaving ishvara pranidhana for later, if at all.

II.32  Ishvara pranidhana is listed as one of the six niyamas or personal practices – along with cleanliness or purity (sauca), contentment (santosha), austerity or determination/zeal (tapas), and study (or self and teachings) svadyaya.

This restates what is foreshadowed in Sutra II.1, giving the entire list of niyamas of which ishvara pranidhana is one of the six prescribed.

Samadhi returns in Sutra II.45.  It is always present as the ultimate goal in classic yoga, and the bhakti path of devotion is central. Here it appears that Samadhi, the ultimate step in the classical yoga path is reached through devotion to Ishvara.

The last of Patanjali’s sutras that mention Ishvara if II.45:

II.45 From submission to God (Ishvara)comes the perfection of Samadhi.

Like the Bhagavad Gita which was written much later, the sutras of Patanjali offer a variety of paths of yoga.  Choice of a path will vary with the predispositions, talents and capabilities of the practitioner.  The choice of action, service and practice (karma yoga) was recommended as the starting place for the warrior Arjuna in the Bhagavad Gita. It may also be the best path, or at least the best beginning, for those who are not warriors but are busy in this mundane world.  The path of devotion (bhakti) is revered, but does not suit all temperaments.

The two paths are not entirely separate, however, because meditation, study, and action are usually combined in most of us as we live in the everyday world of family and responsibilities.  Each person’s personal practice is likely to be some combination of action/practice and devotion, but there is here a sense that ultimate self-realization in yoga required a devotion to a higher power.

Namaste

Like many concepts and practices in of yoga, the greeting “Namaste” has a variety of meanings.  Its first and most common is simply a form of salutation or respect..

In this sense, the word is related to the practice of linked poses known as Surya Namaskar — is the “Sun Salutation” or greeting to the sun.  Surya is the sun and Namaskar is another form of Namaste.  The sequence can be a wide variety of connected postures depending on the practitioner, but it invariably begins with Tadasana (Mountain Pose) followed by Urdhva Hastasana – arms raised to the sky in greeting to the sun.

The ordinary, everyday meaning of namaste is grammatically “I bow to you,” with “nama” or bow as the key word.  The hands are held with the palms together in front of the chest and fingers extended.  It is a ubiquitous gesture in India and much of the Indian subcontinent and it can be relatively formal, fleeting and casual, or imbued with great respect.  Often it is a gesture of reverence to an honored person.   It is something like a handshake, and perhaps like a bow in Japan – for both, there are shadings of meaning and subtle expressions of status in the way it is done.

It is identified in the West as a sign of respect and often used to open and close a class.  In that sense it is like the practice in some martial arts of “bowing in” at the beginning of the class and “bowing out” to close.  It is an expression of respect, gratitude, and closure to the group experience of practicing together.  It is more ritualized than, say, a typical end of a meeting of friends because it signifies that the preceding moments have been significant, that they are now ended, and that one acknowledges the importance of the experience.

In yoga in the United States it has often been taken from the everyday, common practice of social relations to a specific recognition of the experience of yoga practice in the company of a community of other practitioners.  It may also signify the mutual respect and gratitude of the students and teacher to each other, or to the lineage in which they are practicing.  Those meanings have developed within the community of practice and have a significance that goes beyond the simple grammar of the gesture.

For some there is a further spiritual meaning that also goes beyond the grammar to signify affirmation of a deeper connection to the persons to whom it is offered.  The translation of this intent can be taken to mean “The spirit (or the holy) in me bows to the spirit (or holy) in you.”  This deeper gesture is also referred to as the Anjali Mudra, or Pramanasana. Here, it is important that the hands are held near the energy center of the heart — the anahata chakra traditional yoga. In this form it is more than a simple greeting or gesture of gratitude — it is a spiritual expression of shared humanity and purpose.  If done sincerely it can reference an inner spiritual quality (perhaps something like the Buddhist understanding of a “Buddha nature” that we all share deep in inside) — or it may have the sense of the type of religious meaning embodied in the biblical injunction that “All are equal in the sight of the Lord.”  In signifies that whatever separates us in much of our daily lives, in this moment I recognize and honor our common worth and dignity. A goal of the practice is to truly mean this expression of universality (hold it in the heart, or anahata chakra); another is to extend that expression into more and more of one’s life.

Om, A-U-M

Two thoughts:

As the universal word/syllable, it has all meanings, and yet no single  meaning.  It doesn’t name a specific deity.  It refers to an ineffable, universal spirit of the universe.  This is unsatisfying to people who want a literal interpretation, but there it is.

                      ….

There is also, as always, a minimalist, secular meaning to OM/A-U-M.  At the very least, it is a resonant syllable (or three linked syllables) and a silence, that help focus, concentrate and pacify the mind.  It shares a bit of this characteristic with the pranayama technique of Brahmari, which is the breath invoking a bumblebee which is resonated higher in the nasal band.  OM is throatier and more deeply resonant, filling the space in the chest the head and preparing the mind to focus on practice.

OM/A-U-M  as the sound of the universe.

Om is more complicated because of its multiplicity of  spiritual meanings in many different traditions.  We know the written symbol from its popularization as a decorative device, its appearance in the names of yoga apparel and studios, its uses by businesses and commercial products; and elsewhere in popular culture.

OM is also a form of prayer or invocation to express an inward reverence and centering.  Its spiritual meaning may vary from person to person, but there is a deeper potential to the symbol and its sound than the numerous appearances in popular culture,

We may know it as the opening syllable in many chants, prayers and incantations in the Hindu tradition.  It does not reference or name any specific entity, but rather salutes the entity of the greeting.  Some examples known to many Western yogis:

Om bhur bramah savah,,, (the Gyatri)

Om ekadanta ya vidmahe ,,, (chant to Ganesha, referred to as “one-tooth” — ekadanta)

Om ganapataye namahe.. (again, to Ganesha, sometimes called Ganapati)

Om namah shivaya… (greeting/honoring Shiva)

It is also found in some Buddhist practices, as in the mantra “Om mani padme hum,” the mantra to Avalokitesvara,  Bodhisattva of compassion.

There are many other examples linked to Indian spiritual practice and often to specific chants.  This does not necessarily make OM just Hindu (or Buddhist), but employs it as an invocation and sign of reverence.

There are many other occasions where OM is present. We often chant “OM” at the beginning and end of classes, sometimes with “Shanti, shanti, shanti” (peace, peace, peace).

There are many, many deeper meanings and interpretations associated with the holy syllable, and they often give pause to people identified with non-Hindu religious traditions.  This has led many non-Hindu practitioners to re-interpret those meanings to accommodate their own beliefs.

Practitioners from other religious traditions sometimes substitute a chant or prayer from their own heritage to perform the same function of invocation and respect.  One Christian website expresses respect for the intent of the OM chant, but substitutes syllables from their Catholic faith.  Another website describes yoga among conservative Jews in Crown Heights, New York, where poses are not named in Sanskrit, conservative clothing is worn and the chant is given as “Shalom.”  Yet another Jewish practitioner, now living and teaching in Israel, describes how her early contact with OM was tinged by a California hippie ethos, then by religious overtones she could not accept.  She accepted OM only after a decade of personal practice by interpreting its universality as the “eternal word.”

Many practitioners are interpreting traditional Eastern meanings in their own diverse ways.  They recognize that in many religious traditions you can find very conservative and orthodox/fundamentalist believers who reject any yoga or chant as idolatry or “false religion.”  Yet there are members in these same faiths, both liberal and conservative, who cherish the practice of yoga and actively find an accommodation with their own faith. Many agnostics find no conflict in the spiritual practices and can be fairly ecumenical and tolerant about them, but atheists may find the chants to be a bit too “theist” for their taste. These things are not always easy when you take the spiritual side of yoga seriously, and the the diversity of yogis has produced a wide range of practices and accommodations.

The most general spiritual explanation is that OM is the supreme mantra of India, a sacred sound that dates back thousands of years.  Here it is also known as omkara, aumkara, or pranava.

In Pantanjali sutra 1.27 it is taken to refer to the Higher Power: “His word is OM.”

[For more on the above, see a related post in this blog series on the “God” Sutras in Patanjali)

As the universal word/syllable, it has all meanings, and yet no single  meaning.  It doesn’t name a specific deity.  It refers to an ineffable, universal spirit of the universe.  This is unsatisfying to people who want a literal interpretation, but there it is.

It is a universal sound of the universe, or, in some explanations, it is really three sounds and the fourth non-sound, the silence between OM’s.  OM as A-U-M has a polysyllabic, polyvocal set of meanings.

As A-U-M it can refer to many different tripartite notions.  To some it is to the conscious, unconscious, and subconscious. Adding the non-sound at the end, it may also signify the supraconscious.  It may also refer to the three faces of the Higher Power – Brahma (the creator), Vishnu (the sustainer), and Shiva (the destroyer — who of course is also the Lord of yoga). These multiple aspects of “God” interpretation is often depicted in Indian statues of the trimukta, the three faces of God – there are also echoes of this in the Christian notions of the Holy Trinity.  Others see in it three forms of consciousness – the waking state (A), the dream state (U), and sleep (M). Some see in it a metaphor for time – past, present and future (all that is, ever was, and will come to be).  There is no end of of evolved meanings, as you might expect in a tradition that is thousands of years old.

There is also a grammatical metaphor: The A-U-M represents the beginning, middle and end of the Sanskrit alphabet and, therefore, is the word that stands for all words and meanings.  To preserve this sense, OM is often chanted as three sounds with each pronounced as the mouth and vocal apparatus changes in a sliding polysyllabic scale.  The resonance of A-U-M is different and more inflected than the monosyllabic OM.

There is, in the end, a minimalist secular thought on OM/A-U-M.  At the very least it is a resonant syllable (or three linked syllables) and a silence, that help focus, concentrate and pacify the mind.  It shares a bit of this characteristic with the pranayama technique of Brahmari, which is a special breath that invokes the sound of a bumblebee.  It is resonated higher in the nasal band.  OM is throatier and more deeply resonant, preparing the mind to focus on practice.