Kleshas/Afflictions

The kleshas are at the center of the definition and goal of yoga.

A disclaimer:

This part of the sutras is often a bit technical, compactly presented.  It sometimes seems a bit boring, preachy, and judgemental. Yet it is at the heart of the practice of yoga as defined by Patanjali.

At stake is nothing less than learning to see the world accurately and to act skilfully on that knowledge.

Yet, for many of us our confrontation with the sutras creates a dharma headache.  We know it is important but often what we understand seems obvious and much seems dense and technical — or perhaps hopelessly archaic.  The sutras were meant to be the “thread” of the philosophy — a thread that was to be followed with a teacher and not decipherable through simple reading and reflection.  We have many commentaries that help, but many of the most ancient ones seem dense as well.  Perhaps they draw on a cultural context that is far from our present-day understanding.  Desachar, the brother-in-law of BKS Iyengar and the son of Krishmacharya, the guru for both of them, once said that his father taught him the sutras twice in his lifetime.  Each time was different, and each took weeks to months of study and teaching.  Against this background, our own reading of the sutras is bound to be oversimplified, but it may get us started on getting rid of the dharma headache.

So… what we are trying to do here is to take an initial glimpse of the basic elements of the sutras.  These comments are by their nature very selective and superficial, but may serve as a beginning.

Chapters I (Samadhi Pada) and II (Sadhana Pada) start in a similar place.  They state the goal of yoga, though in somewhat different languge.

This parallelism has caused some commentators to suggest that each of the first two chapters has a similar purpose, but that they are directed at students of different development.

To review, the Samadhi Pada states the following as the goal or outcome of yoga:

I.2 yogah cittavrtti nirodhah

Yoga stills the fluctuations of the mind.

This the famous promise that yoga will attenuate the fluctuations of consciousness and lead to clarity and mental stability.

Sadhana Pada begins siimilarly with

II.2 The practice of yoga reduces afflictions and leads to samadhi.

Sutra 1.2 states the goal as eliminating fluctuations of consciousness.  Sutra II.2 states a primary cause of those fluctuations and begins to define the goal of practice.

II.2 contains the promise of yoga practice for those who are not of a temperament to follow the meditative path of Samadhi Pada ourlined in the first chapter.  It begins the delineation of “yoga for the rest of us.”

If you ask a group of yoga practitioners why they come to yoga class, how many spontaneously say they are there to “stabilize their consciousness?.”  Many more seasoned students may feel this, but at the beginning the language used by students is often to “reduce stress,” “find some mental peace,” heal a physical or mental ailment, or sometimes simply for exercise.  All of these personal goals are in keeping with the larger of yoga, since all can have the result of reducing the afflictions and finding equilibrium.  With with increasing practice, most students begin to see the deeper level of the practice which is expressed in terms of consciousness and its disturbances.  Sutra II.3 begins this reflection at the very beginning of the discussion of sadhana (practice) but expressed it in a subtler and more reflective way that incorporates concentration, equanimity, freedom from attachment, and “equilibrium of consciousness” (Mr. Iyengar’s term, in his commentary on sutra II.3).

BKS Iyengar here links yoga with meditation:  Yoga and meditation: “The purpose of this [kriya] yoga is to minimize all impediments to meditation and thus bring the intelligence to full, vibrant life.” (BKS, Light on the Yoga Sutras, p. 105)

The passage is a rare one in Mr. Iyengar’s commentaries because he often states  elsewhere that meditation cannot be taught.  Indeed, practice taught in his tradition often does not include an explicit component of sitting meditation, but here we can take the term “meditation” to be closely related to the goals of samadhi, attenuation of the kleshas, and mental equilibrium.  Here Mr. Iyengar affirms its importance as a goal of yoga even though his teaching gives priority to asana and pranayama.

In the logical exposition of the sutras, this early statement of the purpose of yoga is immediately followed by the barriers to that purpose — enumeration of the afflictions to be overcome. [Note: there are many other obstacles to be overcome as outlined in later sutras, but the afflictions have priority of place in the exposition of practice.]

II.3   avidya asmita raga dwesa abhinivesa klesah

The five afflictions which disturb the equilibrium of consciousness are: ignorance or lack of wisdom, ego, pride of the ego of the sense of ‘I,’ attachment to pleasures, aversion to pain, fear of death and clinging to life. (BKS translation).

This enumeration of the afflictions comes in the third sutra of the chapter and defines the mental, emotional, and spiritual challenge of realizing success on the path of practice. The first of these is avidya, spiritual ignorance.

Avidya (non-wisdom, or ignorance) is the primary source from which all the other afflictions are nourished.  It is ”the breeding ground of all affliction …” (BKS, p. 107)

But what is avidya/ignorance?  Sutra II.5 gives its main characteristics:

Sutra II.5 Mistaking the transient for the permanent, the impure for the pure, pain for pleasure, and that which is not the self for the self: all this is called lack of spiritual knowledge, avidya.

Each one of these elements of spiritual ignorance is worth examining in detail.  They are at the heart of all other kleshas — overcoming them is the central task of a fully-realized yoga practice.

Once again, ignorance lies in mistaking

The transient for the permanent

The impure for the pure

The painful for the pleasurable

The non-self for the Self

The Buddhist tradition has a special meditation for recognizing impermanence and learning to live with it.  It is called The Five Remembrances.  It is a reminder that what we have is transient, so that to recognize and embrace this impermanence is to live the present moment more authentically and deeply.  It reminds us also that we will lose all that we have, but our actions are truly ours.  How we act is more important than what we have and our actions are all that we truly “own.” [See note on karma below]

The Five Remembrances (From Thich Nhat Hanh)

I am of the nature to grow old.
There is no way to escape growing old.

I am of the nature to have ill health.
There is no way to escape ill health.

I am of the nature to die.
There is no way to escape death.

All that is dear to me and everyone I love
are the nature to change.

There is no way to escape
being separated from them.

My actions are my only true belongings.
I cannot escape the consequences of my actions.

My actions are the ground upon which I stand.

We can begin to understand impermanence, but what about the Self?.  In classical yoga thought this Self is the true “you” and should not be confused with any of the material or mental things we often think of as part of  “us.”  This “cognitive error” is at once difficult and easy to understand.  It is harder because the “self” must be understood as not the body, and not the mind.  It is a deeper “soul” or essence.  This is easier to understand when we recognize that one’s mundane self is not defined by material objects or possessions. It is next to impossible for rational Westerners to see the mind as just a mind, and thoughts as just thoughts — we tend to identify with our thoughts as an essential part of ourselves.  Indeed, we often think our thoughts are the self.

The warning about mistaking material objects as a definition of the self are well known.  If I define my success or meaning in life by my possessions or mundane success, I am in danger of identifying those transient objects as “me,” the real essence of “me,” in yoga yoga theory is a deeper Self.  This does not mean the “small self” of the ego, but the transcendental “larger Self.” The errors of avidya cloud that Self by making it “selfish” in the mundane sense — where it grasps at possessions (raga), fears and hates those things that might cause their loss (dwesha), and warps our perceptions of the world.  To transcend them is to be able to see, in the words of one writer, to achieve “vision unveiled by longing.”

Perhaps this warning again against materialism and attachment seems especially directly at people in modern society, but this warning was articulated by Patanjali some twenty centuries ago and reflects a spiritual tradition much older.  Now, warnings come in a variety of modern ways — as in the bumper-stickers that say: “Don’t believe everything you think,” and “Are you sure?”  In their own cryptic way they point to the vanity and error in taking your thoughts too seriously.  After all, they are only thoughts and that is what minds do — think.  Just as external material objects are not our “Self,” our thoughts are also impermanent and, in many ways, illusory.  There is perhaps nothing as fleeting as a thought, nor as blinding as a stubborn thought that is resistant to clear vision.  Both in their impermanence, and in the illusion of permanence, thoughts are also “non-self.”

In the discussion of the pure and the impure, and pleasure and pain, one classic yoga view warns again pleasures of the body and senses,  What seems pleasurable eventually creates longing and attachment (raga), and fear of loss (a form of dwesha).  Both can nourish a “small self” afflicted by greed, desire, and fear.

Some older commentaries, and corresponding reflections in Buddhism, focus on details of the body’s ailments, impurities, and eventual decay.  They counsel a practice that transcend the afflictions and ultimate decay of the body. This is the way of renunciation and “practicing austerities.”

That austere path may be the way to becoming a fully enlightened yogi in the classic sense, but who wants to take it?  And why must rejection of the body be a part of spiritual growth?

One answer is the path of hatha yoga. Its development might be seen, at least in part,  as a rejection of monastic austerity and body-hatred.  It is an alternative path that sees a healthy body as an object of practice and a path to higher level of spiritual attainment.  It is here that physical practice (asana) and pranayama have their place in the contemporary practice of yoga.  Most of us do not come to yoga practice to disparage and reject the body, but to heal it and give it new life and stability through practice.  A simple tenet of hatha yoga is to use the healthy, trained body as a path to higher spiritual development.

That is why most of us choose the path of “practice” in yoga and use also the path of body in our sadhana (practice).  What Mr. Iyengar has given us is a deep and elaborate practice of asana and pranayama (see his Light on Yoga, and Light on Pranayama).  These two limbs of yoga receive fewer than a dozen sutras in Patanjali, but they form the foundation of our modern practice.

We build on the philosophical foundations of the sutras, but our physical practice is based on a more positive view of the body and its importance in our development. A familiar cliche is that “my body is a temple,” but this is a more satisfying view that the ancient view of the body as a bundle of afflictions, ailments, and decay.  The body is all that, of course, but the assumption that the body is a “temple” and the “path” is a more satisfying premise for our daily practice (even though we know, as in The Five Remembrances, that the other side is always present).

Hatha yoga is one path, but the classic path of the renunciate is still practiced, and the bhakti tradition emphasizes devotion over physical practice.  Thus, when people say they are “doing yoga,” they may be referring to some form of hatha yoga in a studio, but this is only one a many types of yoga that have appeared in its long history.

Returning to the sutras, II.4 suggests there is some hope — ignorance varies in its power and presence.

II.4 Ignorance is the breeding ground of the other klesas, whether they are in a dormant, weak, intermittent, or fully activated state (Bryant translation)

It is the foundation of of all the other klesas, the field, ksetra, within which they grow (Bryant, 177)

The next klesha, asmita or ego, stems from ignorance and is the sense of I/me/mine that masks the “greater Self” with the “smaller self” of the individual ego.  Buddhism does not speak of a self in this sense, but it similarly emphasizes the danger of falsely identifying impermanent objects and thoughts as a “self” and artificially seeing that self as separate from others.

The differences between yoga and Buddhism on the question of the self are considerable and irreconcilable, but they agree that attachment is a serious affliction and impediment to spiritual development.

II.5 Ignorance is the notion that takes the self, which is joyful, pure, and eternal, to be the nonself, which is painful, unclean, and temporary. (Bryant trans.)

Swami Veda refers to this as “erroneous cognition.”  This is inaccurately perceiving reality and in all the errors of misunderstanding that follow: “It is through avidya that one gives a certain false shape to reality, inviting it to become a real substance.”  (Swami Veda, 52).  Through ignorance we create a reality that is certainly partial and biased. Our “false shape” of reality diverges from that of others — creating possible discord and aggression, and veiling the deeper reality of the self and the world.

Here again is another persistent theme in yoga and other Eastern philosophy: There is deep doubt about our raw, untrained ability to accurately perceive reality and to choose wisely among its alternatives.  Our perceptions are warped by our labels and preconceptions and desires.  In turn, our cognitions/beliefs and the resulting emotions are based on a false or partial reality.  The process is circular because our beliefs and desires affect our future perceptions and make a true vision (“unclouded by desire”) quite difficult to attain.

The rather dour assessment in II.5 is softened a bit by the preceding sutra which notes that kleshas are not always present in full strength.  As the early sutras promise, they are attenuated by the practice of yoga.  And…we don’t have to wait for the entire, arduous path to make progress.  There is a simple approach that is accessible immediately in the technique of “cultivating their opposites.”

This is worth more discussion, but it is encouraging that two millennia of commentary advise us that shame, guilt and self-punishment are not the most effective means for overcoming the afflictions.  We need the positive step of consistently cultivating their opposites in our thoughts, action and behavior.  Here, “discriminative judgement” means being able to discern what is transient, impure, pleasant, and of the deeper “self.”

Note on karma

The fifth remembrance states that

My actions are my only true belongings.
I cannot escape the consequences of my actions.

My actions are the ground upon which I stand.

This is a central statement on karma.  The term “karma” is often used casually, but here it has a specific meaning. My actions are my only true belongings because in both yoga and Buddhism my actions have consequences that stay with me throughout my lifetime.  In face, those consequences stay with me through many lifetimes.  Karma is linked to the belief that the cycle of incarnation on earth is the result of consequences of part actions and that these actions determine future rebirths.  There is more to this, of course, but the deeper meaning of the “Remembrance” above is that my actions stay with me and have consequences (even as everything else in me and around me changes and disappears).

Karma is more meaningful if one connects it to the notion of reincarnation, but it works in the more limited range of our current earthly lives.  My actions have consequences, and they are “mine” regardless of my denials and carelessness.  The balance of consequences of what I do in this life is my responsibility.

The Niyamas are first given in Sutra II.32 and elaborated in Sutras II.40-45. They do not describe what is to be done (as do the yamas), but rather how it is to be done by the yoga practitioner.

Mr. Iyengar’s translation of sutra II.32 is:

“Cleanliness, contentment, religious zeal, self-study and surrender of the self to the supreme Self or God are the niyamas.”

Bryant renders II.32 similarly as:

“The observances are cleanliness, contentment, austerity, study… and devotion to God.”

In other words, the guides for personal practice are:

saucha (cleanliness)

santosha (contentment)

tapas (determination/zeal/austerity)

svadyaya (study of self and scriptures/teachings)

ishvara pranidhana (devotion to the supreme soul or God)

The niyamas describe the qualities of practice to which practitioners should aspire.  This begins to answer the reaction of the practitioner to the high standards of the yamas and the immediate question: “How can I possibly do all that?”  The niyamas do not prescribe morality, but rather describe the attitudes an behavior that help along the path.

Their importance is clear when we look at the first two sutras in Sadhana Pada (Bryant translation):

II.1 Kriya-yoga, the path of action, consists of self-discipline, study, and dedication to the Lord.

The path of  meditation is laid out in Chapter I, Samadhi Pada, but Chapter II lays out the path of action which Patanjali calls “kriya-yoga.”  Its key elements are the last three of the niyamas — tapas (zeal/determination/self-discipline), svadyaya (study), and ishvara pranidhana (dedication to the Lord).  In other words, the entire practice of the yoga of action is vitally supported by the last three niyamas.

What is kriya yoga, and why practice it?

Simply enough kriya yoga is Patanjali’s term for the yoga of action.  It can be contrasted with the yoga of meditation and study (jnana yoga) or of devotion (bhakti yoga).  It encompasses physical postures and breath work, and in the older practices may include various complex cleansing practices.

Many such practices might be considered “extreme” to Western practitioners, but in the broadest sense they might be considered part of kriya.  For most of us, kriya means the active steps for achieving clarity and enlightenment.  Chapter II of the sutras is devoted to this path, but the goal is the same as in Chapter I — it is samadhi which is achieved through the weakening or attenuation of the afflictions (kleshas).

II.2 “[The yoga of action] is for bringing about samadhi and for weakening the afflictions…”

The goal of practice is thus the same as that described for advanced spiritual yogis in Chapter I — to achieve the highest stage of concentration, absorption, and clarity known in yoga as samadhi.  Nowhere does it say that the goal of yoga is longer hamstrings or flexibility of the body — those are physical elements along the path that support the higher goal of mental clarity, concentration and spiritual peace.

The ensuing twenty-five or so sutras detail the afflictions (kleshas) and the path to eliminating them and their influence on the fluctuations of the mind.  Only then do we reach the moral steps of yama.  Thus, the steps of morality and personal behavior are inextricably intertwined in the definition of the practice path.

Saucha (cleanliness, purity) refers to both external and internal physical practices, and to internal spiritual practices.There are many unusual cleansing practices in the old hatha yoga texts for cleansing the body.  Many have lapsed or are rarely practiced in the West.

Cleanliness remains an important practice, and includes not only external physical cleanliness but also internal physical cleanliness related to nutrition and medicine.  A vegetarian diet is often included in this category, as is the traditional Indian form of Ayurvedic medicine which contains a variety of practices, remedies and treatments designed to promote internal physical cleanliness.  These physical practices provide a basis for cleansing the mind and spirit.

On internal spiritual practice, “saucha is purification of one’s sentiments and emotions.” (Swami Rama, p. 494).

Mr. Iyengar (p. 144-145) describes cleanliness as a “spiritual exercise”, even though some of Patanjali’s sutras express a hostility to the physical body:

II.40. By cleanliness, one [develops] distaste for one’s body and the cessation of contact with others.(Bryant translation)

This negative view of the body is echoed in many religious traditions, but it is not unchallenged within the broader diversity of yoga.  Hatha yoga sees the healthy, trained body as an essential factor in reaching higher levels of spiritual development.  The Iyengar tradition is within this broader, body-positive orientation that gives priority to physical practice.

Without expressing direct opposition to Patanjali on this point, Mr. Iyengar expresses a quite different belief that gives importance to the care the body:

…the sadhaka does not regard [the body] with disgust or distaste, but keeps it clean and pure out of respect for the dweller, purusa, within.  To that extent [the practitioner] respects the body as a temple.

For Mr. Iyengar essential elements of cleanliness are asana and pranayama which “cleanse the body physically, physiologically and intellectually.”

There are varieties of yoga that see the body as a barrier to enlightenment, but hatha yoga views the body as a vehicle for practice and evolution to higher spiritual levels.

Sutra II.41 elaborates the connection between cleanliness and purity/clarity of thought:

II.41 When the body is cleansed, the mind purified and the senses controlled, joyful awareness needed to realize  the inner self, also comes. (BKS Iyengra translation). 

Bryant gives a more literal translation as:

II.41. “Upon the purification of the mind, [one attain] cheerfulness, one-pointedness, sense control, and fitness to perceive the self.”

In either translation, internal purification of the mind is the path to deeper spiritual growth.

Santosha is translated as contentment.

In Sutra II.42 : “From contentment, the highest happiness if attained.” (Bryant).

But does santosha mean being complacent and foreign to the mundane world?

Complacency and detachment may be one version of the monastic path.  However, for most of us it cannot mean being oblivious or detached from the world, or being unaware of injustice or mundane matters. It may seem that monastics and sannyasi sometimes have gained contentment at the cost of withdrawing from meaningful engagement with the world.  However, the sutras of Patanjali, and socially- engaged aspects of Buddhism recognize the importance of living in the world.  In the Five Mindfulness Trainings of Thich Nhat Hanh, the passage on “True Happiness” (another translation of santosha) is that

I am aware that happiness depends on my mental attitude and not on external conditions, and that I can live happily in the present moment simply by remembering that I already have more than enough conditions to be happy.

In the yoga sutra commentaries this is sometimes given in the simple sentiment that “this is enough.”

“Contentment means being satisfied.. the absence of the desire to grasp.”

And  quoting a classic commentary:

When a person always says “enough” to whatever [is gained], that resolute adherence, marked by happiness (sukha) the sages call contentment.

However this sounds like a conflict between worldly yoga (e.g., karma yoga),  and “engaged Buddhism” on the one side, and the full realization of the yogi in Patanjali’s sutras.  I think there is no way to negotiate around this conflict for people who are engaged in the mundane world and have the tasks of living in a family, making a living, and fighting for their values in the broader society.  In yoga terms this may be the engagement of the householder, whose tasks gradually give way to spiritual life and withdrawal.  In “engaged Buddhism” there is no such life-phase distinction and the path is to be active in the world even while drawing spiritual nourishment from the dharma.

Tapas

II.43 states that

Self-discipline (tapas) burns away impurities and kindles the sparks of divinity. (BKS Iyengar)

Bryant’s translation if II.43:

From austerity, on account of the removal of impurities, the perfection of the senses and body manifests.

Mr. Iyengar speaks of “burning zeal and austerity, a sort of unflagging hardness of attitude towards oneself…”  (p. 147).

In the older yoga commentaries tapas is often taken to mean “austerities,” as in the chilling phrase “practicing austerities.”  This usually refers to extreme exertions and practices.  In Iyengar yoga, and for most modern practitioners, a more attainable definition is the zeal and determination required to make progress along the path.  A milder, but still demanding notion of “austerity” implies sacrifice and dedication to improvement.

Svadyaya

The term seems literally to mean “self-study” in the sense of self-awareness, but its older meanings included study of scriptures and japa (the repetition of mantra or the sound of OM).  Bryant connects this with ishvara pranidhana. and  allies the concept more with scriptural study than with the more modern meaning of self-study and understanding in the course of one’s yoga practice.  A modern, but still rigorous, is to tapas as constant, unstinting practice of yoga.

Mr. Iyengar acknowledges the older meaning of svadyaya criptural studh when he says

Traditionally, svadhyaya has been explained as the study of he sacred scriptures and the recitation of mantra, preceded by the syllable AUM, through which the sadhaka [practitioner] gains a vision of his tutelary or chosen deity, who fulfils all his desires (p. 148).

Nevertheless, the most common meaning in the Iyengar approach, and perhaps in the broader hatha yoga tradition, is zeal and determination in sadhana, the yoga of practice and action.

Ishvara Pranidhana

Note: For this, see the earlier posts on the role of God or a Supreme Being in Patanjali’s sutras.

Priorities in the Limbs of Yoga and in the Yamas

The full exposition of the path in Chapter II, Sadhana Pada, can be daunting at first glance.  It may evoke unrealistic expectations and frustrations that occur when one begins the path and sees how far away the goal is of “self-realization”  or “enlightenment.”

Realistically, though, we don’t set standards of that sort with our other activities.  Granted, many are perfectionists and that can get in the way, but a runner does not expect to beat the four-mile in the first training.  The joy of the path is knowing that it is long, but methodical, and has been taken by many before us.  It is also accessible (if not absolutely attainable) for most of us.  Sadhana Pada is the path for “the rest of us” for whom the high standards of Chapter I, Samadhi Pada, do not (currently) fit our temperament,our training, or the stage of life in which we find ourselves.  It is worth remembering that our toga teachers may have high standards, but that they do not expect people to walk onto the mat for the first time and slip into Ekapada raj kapotosana (the king pigeon pose), or, for that matter, do a Yoga-Journal-cover version of Trikonasana.

The same is true for the limbs of the classical (raja) yoga of Patanjali.

Priorities along the path

As many of have experienced his teaching, B.K.S Iyengar has given precedence to asana, the practice of postures, and to pranayama, breath control.  He follows the classic logic of the yoga sutras here, where only the most advanced students begin with morality, discipline and meditation.  For the rest of us — practitioners described in the sutras variously as “dull” or scattered or ignorant, the path is through sadhana (practice).

The chapter on practice, Sadhana Pada, lays out this path for those of us who are not “naturally” yoga adepts and who struggle to integrate principles of yoga with our practical lives in the world. Swami Veda quote the classic Vyasa commentary in which he says:

One who has conquered the higher ground by the grace of God need apply himslef in the lower grounds. (p. 483)

Thus, Swami Veda elaborates. “the sequence of angas (limbs) is requisite only in the case of the dullest [practitioners]”  (p. 483).  the path in Sadhana Prada is, in other words, for the rest of us.

The yamas and niyamas are not prerequisites for beginning a practice — they are probable benefits of the path of practice.  We are not required to reach the high standards of the yoga path immediately, but to work toward it through our practice.

Nevertheless, the moral commandments (yamas) are named early in the sutras of Patanjali, and it is useful to take a closer look at them.  They are classically described as the beginning of the “exterior” limbs of yoga, leading to the interior path to the deeper spirit of the practitioner.

The “exterior” and “exterior” limbs of yoga

The division of the limbs into the exterior and the interior yamas describes the progressive “involution” of the practice from the outer sheaths of the body to the deeper levels of mind and spirit– from the body toward the spiritual center and mental clarity.

The yamas are guides/commandments for individual moral and social behavior and begin the exterior accomplishment of yoga

The three exterior limbs of yoga (bahir-angas): yamas (moral commandments) and  niyiamas [personal practices and discipline], and asana (postures).

Mr. Iyengar speaks of a middle or transitional category that contains the limbs of pranayama (breath control) and pratyahara (stilling the senses) which provide the transition from the outer practice to the inner practice.

The interior limbs of yoga (antar-angas) progress from concentration to  meditation to spiritual absorption.  They are dharana(single-pointed concentration), dhyana (meditation), and samadi {the deepest “meditation” limbs of practice).

The yamas, the universal moral commandments for yogis are given as:

ahimsa (non-violence)

satya (truthfulness)

asteya (non-stealing)

bramacharya (celibacy, sexual responsibility)

aparigraha (non-coveting)

In the classical literature to be a “yogi” means to be a perfectly accomplished, self-realized person following the path.  Others at a move basic stage of realization might be considered practitioners or aspirants.  This traditional distinction makes many practitioners reluctant to call themselves “yogis” because to do so would be a prideful inaccuracy for most of us. In the old saying,”If you say you are a yogi, you probably are not.”

In the sutras, the niyamas are listed before the actual exposition of the yamas.  They describe the quality of personal behavior and attitude of the practitioner, and give a sense of what is to be expected of the developing practitioner.  We simply list them here in the order they are presented, and then return to a discussion of the yamas.  This follows the exposition of Patanjali who lists the yamas, then the niyamas, then returns to a commentary of each in turn.

The Niyamas, personal practices and discipline are:

saucha (cleanliness, exterior and interior)

santosha (contentment, acceptance that whatever you have is “enough”)

tapas (determination/zeal)

svadyaya (study of self and scriptures/teachings)

ishvara pranidhana (devotion to the supreme soul, simetime referred to as the Supreme Guru, however one understands that)

The niyamas describe the qualities of practice to which practitioners should aspire.  This begins to answer the reaction of the practitioner to the high standards of the yamas and the immediate question: “How can I possibly do all that?”  The niyamas do not prescribe morality, but rather the way one pursues the path.  This is discussed in more detail in a separate post. For now we return to the question practitioners often confront in balancing conflicts between the yamas.

An important question is the classical conundrum of how to be both truthful and non-violent.  The study of ethics thrives on this very human negotiation of competing values.

The conflict seems easier to resolve if we see violence only as external action, but that is too simple an interpretation.  The sutra commentaries are more broader and rigorous in defining himsa.  Violence includes not just behavior and violent action, but also thought and speech.  This more demanding definition of violence raises the conflict between truthfulness and violence more pointedly:

There are often situations in which telling the “truth” is painful and in which telling a lie appears to avoid harm.  In short, what to do if there is a conflict between ahimsa (non-violence) and satya (truthfulness)?

The Code of Manu gives a classic example that is often repeated in the sutra commentaries (this citation from Swami Veda Bharati):

One should speak truth, speak pleasant,

not speak unpleasant truth;

Nor should ones speak pleasant untruth,

this is the perennial law (dharma)

This is often expressed in the “tests” one should consider before speaking

Is it true? (How do I know? Am I sure?)

Is it fair? (Does it do harm or injustice, or cause suffering?)

Is it necessary? (Must this be said now and to this person?  What impact does my speech have on increasing or decreasing the suffering of others?

The question of “what is true,” and “how do I know it” refers to different ways of knowing,  Patanjali specifies three ways:  direct perception, inference and logic, and acceptance of authority and teachings.  Much of the morality of the conflict revolves on what is “true,” and from whose perspective?  How to I know it, with all the fallibility of knowledge?  What certainty of “truth” do I need in order to risk increasing suffering for myself and others?

Each of these modes of knowing is subject to distortions and must be examined carefully.  For example, a principle from Buddhism is “However I may perceive things, they are never so.”  That means that I can never be absolutely correct because of distortions in my perceptions.  They are always altered by my desires, preconceptions and fears.  So I must examine my perceptions carefully.  The same is true of “inference and logic,” and the “acceptance of authority and teachings.”  Each may be misleading, especially when logic is based on faulty perceptions or authority is chosen unwisely.

A modern Buddhist approach is in the following passages from the Five Mindfulness Trainings of the tradition of Thich Nhat Hanh.  These modern passages are not exactly equivalent to the sutras, but they draw on the correspondence between the yamas in yoga and the Buddhist precepts of non-violence in thought, speech and action (the corresponding yama is given in brackets):

Reverence For Life [non-violence/ahimsa]

… I am committed to cultivating ..insight …and compassion and learning ways to protect the lives of people, animals, plants, and minerals. I am determined not to kill, not to let others kill, and not to support any act of killing in the world, in my thinking, or in my way of life. Seeing that harmful actions arise from anger, fear, greed, and intolerance, which in turn come from dualistic and discriminative thinking, I will cultivate openness, non-discrimination, and non-attachment to views in order to transform violence, fanaticism, and dogmatism in myself and in the world.

Loving Speech and Deep Listening [non-violence in thought and speech]

Aware of the suffering caused by unmindful speech and the inability to listen to others, I am committed to cultivating loving speech and compassionate listening in order to relieve suffering and to promote reconciliation and peace in myself and among other people, ethnic and religious groups, and nations. Knowing that words can create happiness or suffering, I am committed to speaking truthfully using words that inspire confidence, joy, and hope. When anger is manifesting in me, I am determined not to speak. I will practice mindful breathing and walking in order to recognize and to look deeply into my anger. I know that the roots of anger can be found in my wrong perceptions and lack of understanding of the suffering in myself and in the other person. I will speak and listen in a way that can help myself and the other person to transform suffering and see the way out of difficult situations. I am determined not to spread news that I do not know to be certain and not to utter words that can cause division or discord. I will practice Right Diligence to nourish my capacity for understanding, love, joy, and inclusiveness, and gradually transform anger, violence, and fear that lie deep in my consciousness.

This modern statement of non-violence places special emphasis on verbal violence and on the question of my perceptions — how do I know I am correct.  Here the classic buddhist notion is repeated that a major source of conflict and suffering lies in my own perceptions.

Thus, the emphasis on perceptions points back to the question of “is it true.”  This places great responsibility on the discriminative intelligence of the practitioner.  But how do these caveats and injunctions apply in the vast flux of information in gossip, mass media, and the internet?  Having more “information” obviously does not absolve us of examining “is it true” and “how do I know.”

The second and third questions : “Is it fair?” and “Is it necessary?” remind us that something may be true, but saying it may be neither fair or necessary.  As in the laws of Manu, One should be wary of speaking unpleasant truths if they are neither fair nor necessary, and try to avoid speaking “pleasant untruths.”

In the possible conflict  between ahimsa (violence) and satya (truthfulness), the deciding criterion is whether what I say causes.

Ahimsa-non-violence” of thought, speech, and action

An old dictum of buddhism and yoga is that “you are what you think.”  Thoughts precede speech and action and they are not harmless.  Each can be a form of violence, or no-violence.

Violence (himsa) can have many qualities ranging from severe to mild, lasting to impermanent, but ahimsa is a broad concept that does not include just physical aggression and violence.

Simply restated: Ahimsa means non-violence in thought, speech and action.

Intention is important also.  In a classic examples from the commentaries, a surgeon may cause suffering, but it is done to alleviate a greater suffering and to restore health.  In another classic sutra commentary, there is an imaginary story about a thief asking which way the victim has fled.  Should one be truthful (satya) when it will lead to violence.  This classic answer is that ahimsa is more important than satya when “truthfulness” may lead to suffering and injustice of the possible victim.

A last note: There is something unsettling about an absolute moral code and a set of high personal standards that nevertheless do not provide an infallible guide to behavior.  Some early religious traditions have attempted to provide a book of “casuistry” that covers all obligations and eventualities. The Code/Laws of Manu performed this function, but the impulse is well-known in other traditions as well. In yoga the yamas and niyamas do provide guides for the practitioner, but must be realized through “discriminative intelligence” of the practitioner (sutra II.28).  There are some priorities of moral behavior, but the choice and responsibility remain with the individual.  In this tradition, the choices become “purer” as one progresses along the yogic path.

Note on “Discriminative Intelligence”

Sometimes there is a confusion between the technical meaning of “discrimination” in the yoga sutras and the more common modern use of the term to mean prejudicial thought, action or behavior.  In yoga “discrimination” or discriminative intelligence generally means the mental ability to distinguish and make appropriate choices between such dualities as  the pure and the impure, that which is pleasurable and that which brings pain, between the permanent and the impermanent, and (most important) between the Self and the non-Self.  [Note: these are defined more precisely in the sutras on the kleshas, or afflictions].  In this classic usage “discimination” means the development of the critical capacity of the mind through yoga.

The more common modern use of “discrimination” means negative labeling and stereotyping — and prejudicial or harmful behavior. In both yoga and buddhism this kind of labeling and preconception is a form of ignorance based on a form of dualistic thinking that sorts things and people into good and bad.  Prejudices of this sort are a form of ignorance to be overcome in both the yoga and buddhist paths.   .

Note on the Law of Manu

The Laws of Manu are also called anu-smriti (“The Remembered Tradition of Manu”), or Manava-dharma-shastra (“The Dharma of Manu”).  It was codified around 100CE and is legendarily attributed to Manu, the first man and the law giver. Its influence is powerful in Hindu moral and legal thinking.  It is highly specific about morality and obligations, but it differentiates these by gender and social condition, providing an ancient view of the behavior of men and women.  It also enshrines the concept of the caste system as an unalterable system of rights, responsibilities and privileges. It is common in expositions to find reference to the Laws of Manu as authoritative, even though the caste system has been legally — if not culturally — abolished. Though we cite the Laws of Manu positively about truthfulness, there is an underlying cultural current that legitimizes deep and severe punishments against transgressions again the case system.  Classic yoga and Buddhism alike are not based on these distinctions and generally view enlightenment as available to all, regardless of situation in the social order.

Yoga and buddhism differ widely in many crucial areas, but neither the yoga sutras nor the buddha dharma have an intrinsic belief in separation of individuals by caste, class, or other social or gender distinction.  However, in the mundane world, yoga does not exist in a pure, isolated form, but is located in the matrix of a particular culture.  This may lead to the importation of cultural prejudices into the practice, but the prejudices are neither mandated nor favored in their teachings.

Both yoga and buddhism emerged in a time of Vedantic ritual and brahmin priesthoods, and both offer an alternative to ritual and elitism.  Perhaps both were as “democratic” as one might hope in India of 2000 years ago, offering the possibility that all persons might find enlightenment and self-realization.  It seems historically true that yoga was predominantly a male enterprise in traditional India and its “degendering” is a more recent phenomenon.  But there are legends of the first female bikkhus (monks, nuns) entering the practice during the lifetime of the Buddha.  There are also legends of kings, warriors, thieves, murderers and all manner of persons gathering around the Buddha.  The legend, at least, is more democratic than the prescriptions of the Laws of Manu and the ancient  priesthood of the brahmins.

Sutras of Pantanjali: The Yamas

[Note: The translations/renderings below are from B.K.S Iyengar’s Light on the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, and Edwin F. Bryant The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali.)

The first chapter, or pada, of the sutras of Patanjali is named “Samadhi,” and is by legend directed to those who can reach enlightenment though study and meditation.  For those who cannot, chapter II is presented — Sadhana, or “Practice.”

The yamas

The yamas are the first limb of Patanjali’s classic eight-limbs of yoga, but they are first enumerated in the second chapter (Sadhana Pada: “Practice”).  They appear beginning at II.29 after a series of sutras on the intensity of practice and  its obstacles.   This is the first enumeration of the eight limbs of classic yoga, sometimes called raja yoga.  The eight-limbed path is elaborated in the remainder of Sadhana Pada and in the first three sutras of Chapter Three, Vibhuti Pada.

[Note: the sutras immediately preceding II.29 are important for their presentation of the process of cleansing consciousness, body, and spirit.]

II.28 By dedicated practice of the various aspects of yoga impurities are destroyed: the crown of wisdom radiates in glory. (BKS)

Mr. Iyengar says at this point (p. 134) that: “Yoga can cure or lessen our physical, mental, moral and spiritual sufferings.  Perfection and success are certain only if one practices with love and whole-hearted dedication.”  In his Light on Pranayama he precedes this discussion with a diagram of the sheaths of the body (koshas) that are to be penetrated and cleansed through yoga.

Bryant’s translation:

II.28 Upon the destruction of impurities as a result of the practice of yoga, the lamp of knowledge arises.  This culminates in discriminative discernment. (EFB)

Bryant’s rendering emphasizes the importance of “discriminative knowledge.”  This is described earlier as the ability to obtain clarity and by dispelling avidya (ignorance).  This process is described at the beginning of Chapter II, Sadhana Pada (“Practice”), with the enumeration of the kleshas, or afflictions, that cause fluctuations of the mind (see II.3 ff).  Paramount of these afflictions is ignorance (avidya) which Is defined as inability to discriminate the impermanent from the impermanent, the impure from the pure, the pleasurable from the painful, and the self from the non-self.

These are the elaborations of the steps required for the yogi to achieve “Yoga citta vritta nirodaha,” the goal of yoga to dispel or attenuate the fluctuations of the mind as spelled out in the second most of Patanjali’s sutras (Sutra 1.2).

What the first 28 sutras elaborate is a classic exposition of spiritual principles:

First is the statement of the goal: to reach samadhi, the stage of purification of the senses and consciousness.

The second is the statement that their are causes that can be understood.

The third is a description of the nature of obstacles or afflictions (klesha) that scatter our consciousness and produce fluctuations of the mind.  Curbing the afflictions is the means described in the classic sutra: “yoga citta vrtta nirodaha” — yoga stills the fluctuations of the mind. The afflictions are enumerated — avidya (ignorance), asmita (ego), raga (attachment), dwesha (aversion) and abhinavesa (clinging to life). Through yoga their power over the yoga aspirant is to “attenuated” or eliminated.

The fourth major element is the gradual laying out of the path, beginning with assurance in sutra II.28 that yoga can lead to the “lamp of knowledge” and the “discriminative judgment” that leads to samadhi. [See Endnote below on the similarity to the classic formula in the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism.]

This prepares the way for the examination of the eight limbs of yoga, beginning with sutra II.29 — the yamas.

II.29.  Yama niyama asana pranayama pratyahara dharana dhyana samadhayah astau angani

Moral injunctions (yama), fixed observances (niyama), posture (asana), regulation of breath (pranayama), internalization of the senses toward their source (pratyahara), concentration (dharana), meditation (dhyana) and absorption of consciousness in the self (samadhi), are the right constituents of yoga. (BKS)

Bryant renders II.29 as “The eight limbs are: abstentions, observances, posture, breath control, disengagement of the senses, concentration, meditation, and absorption.”

The yamas are enumerated in:

II.30 ahimsa satya asteya brahmacarya aparigrahah yamah

Non-violence, truth, abstention from stealing, continence, and the absence of reed for possessions beyond one’s need are the five pillars of yama. (BKS)

Iyengar: “These rules and restraints are clearly laid for us to live in society whist remaining a yoga practitioner.” (p. 135) Here he emphasizes the absolute nature of the yamas – they are not just suggestions or aspirations for the yogi, they are binding moral imperatives.

II.31 Yamas are the great, mighty, universal vows, unconditioned by place, time and class

“they should be followed unconditionally by everyone, and by students of yoga in particular, irrespective of origin and situation, …They form the framework of rules on which society is based …

I believe that this universal approach should be applied to all the other component stages of yoga, without distinction of time, place or circumstances, to lay down the precepts of a universal culture.” (BKS, p 136)

Bryant agrees that the yamas are meant to be an absolute guide for yogis.  Regardless of one’s circumstances, they are binding.

On the surface, this is difficult to square with the Bhagavad Gita in which the karma yogi such as Arjuna must do his duty – in this case, to fight and, if necessary, kill his opposition which is composed mainly of a rival branch of his extended kinship.  In the classical Indian caste system, the Kshatriya, or warrior class, is expected to fight.  This would imply that only the class of scholars and priests (brahmins) were eligible to be “real” yogis, while the dirty work of society is left to others.  The Bhagavad Gita notwithstanding, modern interpretations often say that the yogic path is open to all; however, to reach full realization as yogis warriors and others must indeed adhere to the yamas.

A bit of comparison with the precepts or vows taken by Buddhists may help.  The origin of the precepts is in the same general period as the sutras of Patanjali, and they are linked to the same broader moral and spiritual system.  In Buddhism, the precepts are often given as non-violence, honesty/truthfulness, non-stealing, avoidance of destructive sexual behavior, and avoidance of intoxicants.  These are, of course, ahimsa, satya, asteya, and bramacharya. The fifth -avoidance of intoxicants — is not a specific precept in the yamas of yoga as it is in Buddhism.

[Note: the “Five Mindfulness Trainings” in the tradition of Thich Nhat Hanh and greatly elaborated on the classic Buddhist precepts.  They carry the same sentiment but are quite modern in their references to specific temptations and aspirations.]

Buddhism acknowledge a different meaning of brahmacharya for monastics and for lay persons.  The latter are known in the yoga texts as “householders.” They have families and are not sexually abstinent.  The modern rendering of brahmacharya is thus not always “chastity” (except for monks and nuns, bhikkus), but responsibility and non-destructiveness.  Bhikkus in the buddhist tradition have accepted brachmacharya literally, living a life roughly comparable to what the classic yogis call sannyasi – freedom and detachment from family and physical attachments.  Being sannyasi is a high state of aspiration to being a true yogi and involves full dedication to the path.

If we parse these distinctions a bit, we could argue that many “yogis” are “householders” in the old sense, and correspond to non-celibate Buddhists who nevertheless aspire to avoid sexual behavior that is destructive to self and others. Many modern yoga practitioners find the reference to “celibacy” and “chastity” to be archaic and may reject the notion altogether.  However, it seems a more attainable aspiration when viewed as the status of “householder” or, if not married, a responsible, non-harming person in sexual relations.

From this point in the Sutras there is little further enumeration or discussion of the yamas.  Yet, they have the status of a universal moral system to guide the yogi. Importance as they are, Mr. Iyengar was a very practical guru and did not teach that absolute to the yamas was a precondition to practice.  It is often approached as an aspiration or goal to be reached through practice.  This is consistent with the basic goal of hatha yoga to reach the inner being (including the spiritual and moral sense) through practice.

As a practical matter, Western yoga studios would be practically empty if one had to adhere fully to the yamas before getting to the mat.

Though Western yogis, especially young people, sometimes see bramacharya as an archaic prescription, ahimsa (non-violence) is perhaps more contentious.  Strictly speaking it would mean non-violence to animals, and thus a vegetarian diet.  It would also mean, perhaps, no police and no soldiers and no wars.  Practitioners often seize on these factors of modern life as evidence that the yamas are an impossible guide to behavior.  Here, as ever, Mr. Iyengar has often said that you need not force yourself to be a vegetarian — but that you will likely move in that direction as a natural result of your practice.  Similarly, he has taught yoga to soldiers in India, acknowledging that warriors may still have a place, but that they, too, can benefit from yoga.  In modern life, the path of karma yoga as described in the Bhagavad Gita often seems more attainable than the renunciate path of the bramachari  or sannyasi.

Note on the Chronology of the Sutras of Patanjali

This articulation of spiritual principles is part of an ancient spiritual tradition that included prior centuries of the Vedas, the Upanishads, and other documents of ritual, spirituality and enlightenment.  As a very rough chronology, it may be helpful to remember (that Classic Yoga and Buddhism were both articulated in the five centuries B.C.E., and thus preceded the monotheistic religions of Christianity (by some five centuries or more), and Islam (by perhaps five to ten centuries).  On the other hand, Judaism, like the Vedic culture, has ancient origins but was, for the most part, a separate path of development. vAlthough this chronology is a very rough, the point here is that the sutras were pre-Christian and pre-Islamic, and offered a different path than ancient Judaism.  As we discussed in earlier posts, many contemporary yoga practitioners are actively engaged in finding an accommodation between the yoga path and monotheistic religious traditions.

Note on Classical Exposition of the Spiritual Path

Many will notice the familiarity of the spiritual presentation (goal, illness, causes, path) to the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism.  They are often variously translated, but the basic format is a clear “medical” diagnosis with prescription for health:

1. There is suffering
2. There are causes of suffering
3. There is an end to suffering
4. There is a path

Thereafter the  Buddhist dharma elucidates the Eight-fold Path.  This path does not correspond is a direct way with the Eight Limbs of Yoga in Patanjali’s classic yoga, but there are similarities in the prescriptions for practice and personal conduct.

Note on the Meanings of Brahmacharya

Bryant emphasizes the absolutism of the yamas:

“One may take this or leave it, but Patanjali’s intent cannot be expressed much more clearly.  The yamas are universal prescriptions — there are no exceptions … renegotiations of the yamas due to the exigencies of modern times and the Western landascape are emphatically not recognized by the classical Yoga tradition” (p. 251)

Be that as it may, what are modern yoga practitioners in the West to do?  There are famous tales of corrupt yogis, or yogis whose path also involved fathering numerous children, or modern teachers famously being sued for sexual harassment.  In Western practice of many traditions there are certainly anecdotes about behavior that caused harm to students and divided yoga communities.

As far back as the 1970’s yoga schools in the Iyengar tradition began articulating codes of conduct, and all teachers must observe behavioral codes designed to protect students and teachers, and avoid harm to the unity of yoga communities.  These modern embodiments of the yamas — all the yamas, not just sexual behavior — are seen at least in part as a social necessity for the passing on of yoga and in maintaining the health of yoga communities.  The moral absolutism of Patanjali’s sutras and sannyasi practice is softened, or at least augmented, by an explicit concern for social consequences.  Most yoga traditions attempt to be self-policing, but they are now aided by sexual harassment legislation in Western countries.

Sanskritists explain that the word “brahmacharya” does not etymologically/literally mean “celibacy,” “chastity,” or some similar term related specifically to sex.  It means something like “following the path of Brahman” (the supreme reality, God, or Self). Confusion often arises because the term has several other meanings.

One meaning is defined as the first in four phases (ashramas) of life:

brahmacharya: the first stage of life (about 25 years) when one is an unmarried student

grihastha: the stage of householder who has a family and pursues a living — in this stage of life having a family is indeed acceptable.  However, as the texts often point out: “Householder (grihastha) yoga is hard yoga.”

vanaprastha: the phase of the “forest dweller” who begins a withdrawal from the world and family responsibilities, and turns toward a spiritual life through meditation and study

sannyasa: the stage of renunciation and austerities to achieve a higher stage of spiritual enlightenment.

The term brahmacharya is also related to behavior and is sometimes interpreted to mean chastity or celibacy for the unmarried, and fidelity for those who are married (e.g., in the phase of grihastha).  This broader notion of brahmacharya is close to the Buddhist precept to avoid sexual behavior that is harmful to oneself or others. The Buddhist emphasis on “non-harming,” regardless of marital status, is a more modern compromise with the term.

Buddhist and yogic traditions are not strangers to variance in gender identity and sexual orientation, but the Sutras are silent on this matter (as are the traditional Buddhist texts). In other words, they do not address the modalities of gender and sexuality, but rather the effects of harming.  Harmful sexual behavior is a violation of the yama of ahimsa or non-violence.

Of course, being human, various gurus and teachers have a wide variety of personal and spiritual orientations on sexual diversity, but the classic texts are, for the most part, silent on these matters because absolute adherence to the vow of brahmacharya precludes these activities.