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.