Yoga
The
word yoga is from the Sanskrit root
yuj, which means “to yoke.”
In yoga, we attempt to yoke our
consciousness to the
source of consciousness – at least that is the theory.
The
first aphorism stated in the (Yoga) sutras is as follows: yoga is the
intentional stopping of the spontaneous activity of the mind substance.
MoL 26
Now
the opening aphorism of the Yoga Sutra, which is attributed to a legendary sage
named Patanjali, is the classic definition of yoga: “Yoga is the intentional
stopping of the spontaneous activity of the mind stuff.” TMTT
132
Within what is called the gross matter of the
mind, there functions what we now call
electricity.
In the Indian tradition, this is called subtle
matter –
energy as form – which is seen to be in continuous activity.
The goal of yoga is to make it stop being active.
The
notion is that this substance takes the forms of the things that we see. The reason we see each other
is that
something in our mind takes the form of what’s out there – an internal model
of perceived reality. The difficulty is that you can’t stop
it from changing.
The notion is that you yourself are identical with that form of forms, Brahman¸but you identify yourself wrongly with the broken images that flicker on the surface. Just think: there are those wonderful forms there; here are these reflections always changing, and you identify yourself with the reflection instead of with the true, underlying form. As the wave ripples along, you think, Oh, here I come; oh, there I go. Yet all the time you are the substantial thing that is being reflected here in broken images.
So when we engage in yoga, we are trying to make the pond stand still.
During the later medieval period in
It fascinated me long, long ago to realize how close yoga experiences were
to those described by Freud, Adler, and Jung in their discussions of the deeper
regions of the psyche into which people fall. MoL 28
I had a rather elaborate discussion once with an
important and highly respected psychiatrist on this subject of mysticism, yoga,
and psychosis, and his point if I understand correctly was that the two are just
about the same, that the yogi is somehow experiencing a psychotic breakup but is
not drowned in this subconscious sea that swamps the ordinary psychotic.
What we are describing when we describe psychosis and the yogic
experiences is the same sea, the same ocean, the same crises.
The psychotic is drowning in these waters, while the yogi is swimming – and
there is a difference between drowning and swimming. MoL 29
At
this point the serpent is like a
dragon. We all know the character of dragons – at least,
Western dragons: they live in caves, and they have a gold hoard in the cave, and
they have a beautiful girl whom they have captured in the cave.
They can’t do anything with either treasure or maiden, but they simply
want to hold on. Dragons, like people whose lives are
centered around the first cakra, are based around gripping, holding on to
power, holding on to a life that is no life at all because there is no animation
in it, no joy in it, no vitality in it, but just grim, dogged existence.
The nature of the
kundalini at muladhara is that of
Ebenezer Scrooge before he undergoes that grand journey and transformation at
the hands of the three ghosts (…) MoL 30
The aim of the yogi is to encourage the kundalini to rise from its
lair at the base of the spine to unite with the lord of the world, who is
waiting at the crown of the head in the seventh cakra, sahasrara.
MoL 30
Wake, Mother, Wake!
How long hast thou been asleep
In the lotus of the muladhara!
Fulfill thy secret function:
Rise to the sahasrara,
Where mighty Siva dwells!
Swiftly pierce the six lotuses,
O thou Essence of Consciousness,
And take away my grief! MoL 30
(2nd)
The second cakra is at the level of the genitalia and is called
svadhisththana, which means “her favorite resort.” This is the cakra
that centers itself entirely around the experience of pleasure, or
(3rd
) When the kundalini (reaches)
manipura, which means
“the city of the shining jewel.” Here the interest is in
consuming everything, being master of everything, eating everything, turning it
into your own substance; this is, after all, the cakra of the belly.
When the energy is at this level, one’s psychology is completely
Nietzschean or Adlerian. One wants to consume and gain power
for oneself over everything; one is driven by a will to power.
This is the level at which the artha principle, the drive to
succeed, is centered. MoL 30
The
Indians say …
The
name of the heart cakra is very interesting: it is called
anahata,
which means “not hit.” The full translation of its sense is
this: the sound that is not made by two things striking together.
Perhaps
you have heard that Japanese Zen koan, “What is the sound of one hand clapping?”
Well, this is it: the sound that is not made by two things
striking together. Every sound that we hear is made by two
things striking together: the sound of my voice is made by the wind striking the
vocal cords, the sound of the violin is made by the bow rubbing on the string,
the sound of a wave is made by the water splashing against the beach and so it
goes. What would the sound be that is not made by two things
striking together? It is the sound of Brahman, the
energy of which the world itself is a precipitation.
As
Einstein has told us, energy and mass are the same. The mass
is a projection, so to say, of energy in space, or, if you will, a precipitation
of energy into matter. The sound of that energy before it
becomes mass is the sound that is not made by two things striking together.
MoL 32
Yoga teaching rejects all fantasy contents and we do the same, but the East does it on quite different grounds. In the East, conceptions and teachings prevail which express the creative fantasy in richest measure; in fact, protection is required against the excess of fantasy. We, on the other hand, look upon fantasy as valueless, subjective day-dreaming. SotGF 120