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.