On Being-Consciousness

The evolution of intellect

Evolution is, by human standards an extremely slow process. Infinitesimal changes over millions, perhaps billions of years have transformed tiny, simple organisms into the complex, extraordinary creatures we call human beings. With the relatively recent development of intellectual ability in our human species we have advanced rapidly from small communities of hunters and gatherers into an urban, technologically based society of brain-workers who have managed to put a man on the moon. Of course, this is an over-generalization since vast numbers of humans still live in small, rural villages and lack even the most basic technologies, such as telephones, electricity, tractors and clean water systems. Nevertheless, the relentless progress of technology combined with an ever-accelerating pace of innovation indicates the direction in which our train is headed. Even more significant, the vast majority of our species dearly want the comforts, pleasures and advantages of technology. They are not happy with a simple, rudimentary way of living once they get a glimpse or taste of the possibilities to be found in the world's great urban centers.

This more recent evolutionary thrust has not been primarily physiological, but rather intellectual in nature. Nevertheless, the dramatic transformation in our modes of living resulting from our intellectual activity has also accelerated the process of biological change in our species. Our physiology, as a species is being forced to adapt rapidly to a changing environment that we ourselves have created through our own thought processes. No one really knows where all this is leading. Will we survive our own intellectual prowess? More concretely, will our physiology be able to adapt to the dramatic changes in our environment which are being fostered on our bodies by our brains? People worry about environmental disasters or nuclear warfare or terrorists with deadly toxins, and understandably. But what about our own complex, delicate and ancient bodies and their capacity to adapt to a self-created environment which is stressing our physiology at the most fundamental levels: molecular, cellular and energetic? Health care costs are soaring as the population becomes sicker, largely due to an unhealthy environment that we ourselves have created. We the people are responsible this. As the cartoon character Pogo famously said: 'We have found the enemy and it is us." Is our drive for progress a one way ticket to hell?

Human beings have enormous talent and innovative ability, far superior to any known species. What motivates human beings, however, is something much more primitive -- something which is common to all life forms. It is this primitive instinct which serves as the engine driving our innovative capacity and keeps it in high gear as we rapidly approach an unknown horizon. This primitive instinct is the urge to happiness. In its most rudimentary form, the urge to happiness manifests as the tendency to avoid pain and pursue pleasure. This basic polarity operates in all organic beings: mammals, birds, fish, insects, plants -- all the way down the food chain to the very cells of our bodies. At a more refined level -- at the level of happiness versus suffering -- pain and pleasure is often more mental than physical. We recognize that it is possible to have a great deal of physical pleasure, while at the same time suffer from mental and emotional pain. The quest for happiness is what lies at the root of our intellectual and material progress. We seek happiness because we feel its lack. We suffer, so we work hard to create a better life. We are not happy with the way things are, so we work to change things. Our unconscious mantra is, 'more-better-different, more-better-different....'. But is this mantra bringing us fulfillment?


Happiness: the primal quest

People work for one thing and one thing only: happiness. A mother works hard to feed and educate her children because it makes her happy to see them prosper. If it didn't make her happy, she wouldn't do it or she would do only the bare minimum. Preachers preach because it makes them happy to share their spiritual and moral values with others. Mountain climbers put their lives at risk because the challenge of making it to the top makes them happy. No one would put their life at risk for a challenge that didn't inspire them. People put their lives at risk for others in crisis situations not out of obligation, but because of the joy it gives to save a life. The urge to happiness goes beyond the primitive pleasure/pain reaction of the body. But as easy as it is to grasp the pleasure/pain principle, the motives underlying the happiness principle are much less obvious. For example, people are often willing, even eager to suffer physical pain and discomfort for a cause they believe in or a goal they are eager to attain. They will participate in demonstrations in countries where they risk being beaten, imprisoned, subjected to water cannons, tear gas and even bullets. Boxers take excruciating blows and risk serious head injuries to win championship titles. Clearly, the idea of happiness transcends immediate physical gratification and pain-avoidance. But just as pleasure and pain follow close on the heels of each other, so do the experiences of happiness and suffering. In the phenomenal world of cause and effect all human beings are guaranteed a roller coaster ride. Any person who believes that he or she will achieve stable, long-term happiness in a cause and effect world will surely arrive at old-age disillusioned and in deep despair. Such is the paradox of human life.

Is deep and lasting happiness achievable? Definitely not at the level of the human body and its subjection to the law of cause and effect. Whatever we gain we will eventually lose and whatever we attain we must ultimately give up. Death guarantees it. But so also does senility, disease, serious accident, etc. This inescapable reality is itself the source of so much despair in our world. We need only read world literature to grasp how universally profound is the problem of despair. The external world moves before our eyes like a motion picture in which we play a character. Through our physical senses we reach out into this world in search of happiness. And, similar to the characters in a movie, we fluctuate between hope and despair, gain and loss, success and failure. If we premise our inner happiness on our external situation we are guaranteed to fail.

The fundamental error we make in our quest for happiness is to look for it in the movie that is continually unfolding before our eyes. The phenomenal world cannot bring us abiding happiness. It is impossible because this world is governed by the law of polarity. Whatever rises, falls, whatever goes up must come down....if not immediately, then eventually. Since we, as physical beings are living and breathing in a world of opposites, if we fix our hopes on the events unfolding here we will invariably bounce back and forth between happiness and despair. In this scenario there is no other alternative.

Does this mean that abiding happiness is impossible? Yes, if we consider the self to be a material entity in a cause and effect world. Our bodies are revealed to us as physical entities in a material world. So long as we believe and behave as though our self is identical with or dependent upon the body, then we will live a yo-yo existence of winning and losing, ending inevitably in death. This is the bad news. But is our self dependent on the body? If the self has a relationship of dependency with the material body, then the self must too be material. Matter/energy interacts with matter/energy, not with empty space. As we discussed in a previous essay, the self we think we are is really a conceptual locus invented by the intellect in order to create a meaningful picture of the world. Although the concept -- as a thought-form -- demands energy in order to exist, its content or 'meaning' is immaterial. Our ego-self is a bundle of meanings which we call 'Robert' or 'Marie', etc. These meanings have no substance and on occasion they may have virtually no correspondence with the mass of matter we call our body. When such is blatantly the case, we say that the person who carries a particular self-concept is delusional -- i.e, that their self-concept bears little or no relation to what is perceived by others. Thus, the self that we think we are is not a substantial self, either in a material sense or, as in the case of self-delusion, in the sense of an accurate self-representation.

So, when the body dies, what happens to the self? Undoubtedly the insubstantial, sometimes delusional self-concept which relies on the body's energy in order to appear, disappears. Then what are we? Do we really exist? If the self, as something actual is neither the gross body nor its subtle self-concept, then what is it? The answer to this must be: nothing. The self is merely a mental creation that comes and goes with waking and sleeping, and changes over time according to circumstance and nature. It is no more real - or less real -- that any other thought. In fact, the true self is what's left over when the thought of the self -- the 'I'-thought -- disappears. The true self, or Self is not a thought or concept. Nor is it the body, which is neither more nor less than an appearance. The Self, then, is consciousness or, more accurately 'being-consciousness'. Consciousness exists not as a thought or a form of energy, but as a principle. Principles, like the laws of mathematics and logic, exist but not in any material or energetic sense. They exist, therefore they have being. The principle of consciousness exists, therefore it is 'being-consciousness'. However, there is more to the principle of consciousness than the abstractions arrived at by the intellect. Intellectual abstractions may be true, but they have no life. The principle of consciousness, however, is life itself, as we shall see.


'Being-consciousness': the ground of all experience

To restate, 'being-consciousness' (Self) is neither matter nor energy and therefore not subject to the vagaries of a cause and effect universe. This Self underlies all phenomenal experience and functions as the ground upon which the world-picture appears. Not being a 'thing', substance or energy, it stands aloof from the realm of cause, effect and polarity. The Self is the witness, the invisible light of consciousness by which physical light is seen. Without it there can be no thought and without thought there can be no world, no technology, no progress. The Self is not this world, yet without it this world -- i.e., our world, could not exist for us.

This Self is the true Subject (the 'I-am-that-I-am') behind the empirical subject (the 'I am') that functions as the locus of our universe. It is also the true Object behind the specific objects observed by the empirical self. Why? Because the objective phenomena we perceive are an appearance on the screen of consciousness. We think we are seeing the objects of the external world, when in reality what we are seeing is an appearance appearing on the screen of consciousness. Just as when sitting in a movie theatre we get caught up in the story and forget that what we are really looking at is a screen, similarly when we look at the world around us, we forget that what we are really seeing is 'being-consciousness' -- the screen upon which all appearances are projected. Does this mean that there is really no such thing as an 'external world'? Maybe....maybe not. It may be that there is some 'thing' the appearance is revealing. But is this 'something' anything like the appearance? For example, visual appearances are produced by the brain. But does the landscape revealed to us look anything like our brain? Of course not. Yet, the appearance is processed through the brain, which means it is influenced by the brain. So the thing as it is and the thing as it appears via the eyes and the brain may be widely divergent. The most we can say is that there is likely something external to our nervous system which serves as the 'material' base for the appearance, but more than this we cannot claim. Our visual representation of a landscape may no more reflect the actual landscape than the word 'apple' reflects the actual thing called 'apple'. If we remove the empirical subject -- the 'I'-thought -- and its perceived objects, then the distinction Subject (perceiving consciousness) and Object (screen of consciousness) collapses into simple 'being-consciousness' (Self).

The Self, therefore is the true ground of all experience. Even in the absence of experience the Self persists as Being. This is what allows us to enter an insentient state of deep sleep and then reawaken in tact. Our being-ness continues although our conscious mind is 'turned off' during sleep. When the mind is 'turned on' again upon awakening, the world we know re-appears. There is a continuity of being-ness, as well as latent consciousness that will reemerge under the right conditions of awakening. Does this mean that consciousness is discontinuous or 'extinct' during sleep? The answer is a firm 'no'. If someone shakes us while sleeping we will awaken. If there was a complete extinction of consciousness, the body would not be able to respond. The shaking causes something to be felt and 'feeling' demands consciousness. It would be more accurate to say that consciousness goes into latency during sleep, which means that it is not reflecting any perceptual/thinking process, other than what arises intermittently in the form of dreams. During sleep the body's sensory and intellectual functions are temporarily 'turned off' in order to give the organism time to rest and rejuvenate. The mind, which is normally filled with objects, thoughts, feelings and sensations becomes insentient. However, the insentience of the mind does not equate with the extinction of consciousness. This is why even the most exhausted person can be roused from sleep in an emergency. A vigorous physical shaking is 'felt' sufficiently to awaken the insentient mind -- i.e., to activate the senses and intellect. It is as if the body has a 'dimmer switch' which will turn down or turn up the intensity of consciousness according to the body's needs. The principle of consciousness is always in tact, it simply moves in and out of latency as the need arises. Does the principle of consciousness survive the death of the body? The answer is 'yes' and 'no'. Certainly with the death of the body 'ordinary' consciousness disappears. Similarly, when the filament of a light bulb wears out, the light it emits disappears. Does this mean that the electricity the bulb converts into light has ceased to exist? Answer: 'No'. And does the extinction of 'ordinary' consciousness which occurs at death mean that the principle of consciousness which underlies it has also ceased to exist? Answer: 'Only if consciousness is an epiphenomenon or by-product of the body and its processes.' But is it?


Death and happiness

Abiding happiness is impossible so long as we feel that our only true guarantee in life is the inevitability of our extinction. We are no better off than a man on death row, the only difference being that he knows exactly when he will die whereas we don't. Even the most hardened materialist must blanch, at least privately at the thought that his body, mind and consciousness will one day be annihilated.

Seeking a better life is fine. Why shouldn't we want our sojourn here to be as enjoyable as possible? We are happier when we are working at something we love and having some success with it. We are happier when have loving, supportive relationships. A strong, healthy body also makes our life more enjoyable. All these things are good, but they don't lift the cloud of knowing that it all will be lost when we take our last breath. So, then what are we to do? The human body is not immortal nor will it ever be. There are people who believe in the possibility of physical immortality and they point to instances of yogis who have lived, reputedly, extremely long lives. It may be true that some adepts have extended their lives for very long periods. However, the body lives in time and is subject to the vagaries of cause and effect. What lives in time must, by definition have a beginning and an end. If it does not, it's timeless. But timelessness does not exist in time. Even if someone had maintained a body since the Big Bang itself, we have no guarantee that they will continue to maintain that body in the future. We'll see when we get there, but no one has gotten there yet. Thus, the most we can say is that extending the length of life is a possibility. We cannot claim more. Even those yogis who have been able to live a very long life will have to give up their particular body at some point.

Is there then no hope? Is death an absolute that no one can escape? Yes, the death of the body is guaranteed. But then who are we? Are we the body or are we something other. And do we die with the death of the body? If we do not die with the death of the body, how can this be validated? The truth is, it cannot be validated empirically. Psychics who assert they can communicate with the dead may be sincere in their claims, but their claims -- which are subjectively based -- are not verifiable through scientific method. What the psychic affirms to be the spirit of a dead person may be something quite other and there is no way, at least at the present moment, of verifying their claim objectively. The fact is, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that we do not know and the notion of an afterlife is simply a hypothesis.


'Being consciousness' and immortality

The continuity of being-consciousness after the death of the body, on the other hand presents an interesting possibility. For one thing, being-consciousness is neither matter nor energy. Or, it may be that pure consciousness is latent or potential energy while the 'consciousness-of' aspect -- i.e., objective-consciousness, is kinetic energy. If there is validity in this, the question that naturally follows is: 'Is consciousness, as potential energy, an epiphenomenon of the body or is it independent of the body?' If it is independent and if our essential Self is consciousness, then we do not die with the death of the body. Alternatively, if it is merely an epiphenomenon then we die when the body dies.

Indian philosophy asserts the independence of consciousness. David Godman, editor of the book 'Padamalai'* gives a condensed description in his explanatory notes:

'....the world-appearance [is] explained in terms of Sivam and sakti. In Sivam, the pure consciousness that is Siva's [God's] true nature, there is no creation at all, not even as a false appearance. However, when sakti, the dynamic and creative aspect of Sivam, arises, all manifestation appears. This sakti, which is regarded as being the presence of Siva [God], is the energy that enables the projection of the world appearance to take place.' [Godman, page 281, Padamalai]

Further: 'Siva himself remains actionless and motionless, abiding as the still centre of consciousness' [Godman, page 42, Padamalai]

Quoting Ramana Maharshi: '.....the jiva (the individual self).....is in reality the pure Self', 'The jiva itself is Siva; Siva himself is the jiva.' [page 107, Padamalai]

Quoting an ancient Saiva text: 'Siva (pure consciousness) gives birth to sakti (energy, power), and sakti gives birth to Siva. The two join together with delight, giving birth to the world and all beings.' [Sivajnana Siddyar, 2:77, page 282, Padamalai]

Essentially what these quotes from 'Padamalai' teach is the following:

• God's (Siva's) essential nature is pure consciousness.
• Inherent in this divine pure consciousness is the power of manifestation (sakti): sakti is the energy of Siva (pure consciousness).
• The real nature of the individual self is the Self
• The Self is identical with Siva (pure conciousness).
• The Self is pure consciousness.
• Pure consciousness (Siva) gives birth to energy (sakti).
• Energy (sakti) gives birth to pure consciousness (Siva/ Self).
• Together they give birth to the world and all beings.
• Their conjoined nature is delight.

In this view, consciousness is not reducible to energy (sakti), but contains within itself this power. This power, manifest, appears as the universe. Thus the universe arises out of and has its being in Siva (pure consciousness). Sakti, in its unmanifest state appears to be potential energy hidden within pure consciousness (Siva). When sakti emerges as kinetic energy, assuming various forms, it becomes visible. It is 'born', so to speak. Siva, however remains what it is, 'actionless and motionless, abiding as the still centre of consciousness'. Siva -- in its inmost nature identical to the Self -- is 'realized' through the apparent efforts of an individual self seeking to understand its own true nature. The 'efforts' of the individual self are sakti in its active state. Even though sakti has as its source the Self, it is through sakti that the Self is re-discovered, as if for the first time. This discovery is like a 'birth', hence the line: 'Siva gives birth to sakti, and sakti gives birth to Siva. The two join together with delight, giving birth to the world and all beings.'

The argument running through the above quotations is that the Self 'is' -- i.e., exists, whether its inherent energy as sakti is active or latent. Latent energy is not visible, which does not mean that it does not exist. It does exist as potential. If it had no potential, then we could say that it is non-existent since under no condition could it manifest. If we apply this reasoning to the question of whether our 'being-consciousness' persists after the death of the body, we see a valid argument in favour of the continued existence of the Self. The Self, as pure consciousness, is manifest as the body through its inherent sakti. With the death of the body, the inherent sakti returns to latency. The Self, however, continues to be what it always is, pure being-consciousness. In Vedanta this is known as the ajata doctrine: the Self can never die because it was never born. As for the empirical ego-self, it is a thought form that rises and falls through the power of sakti, without in any sense adding to or subtracting from the Self. The Self of Vedanta, therefore is not under the sway of time, space or causality. It is here, now and motionless. It contains within itself the unmanifest sakti, so in its nature it is vibrant, not inert or lifeless.


The root of suffering

This Self is the consciousness underlying the individual self which in turn appears to be conscious of objects and events. In fact, however, there are not two consciousness'; the latter individual consciousness is merely borrowed from the Self. The individual self is a thought-form masquerading as a conscious being. In truth, the individual is merely one of a countless number of objects appearing in consciousness. It is a subtle object -- the 'I'-thought -- which the intellect associates with the gross body. The 'I'-thought is not itself conscious although it appearsto be. This is the grand illusion which lies at the heart of human suffering. What creates the sense of a plurality of consciousness' -- i.e., my consciousness, your consciousness, his/her consciousness, is our thinking. It's the mind which assumes that my consciousness is limited to my body and your consciousness is limited to yours, etc. In fact, consciousness is not limited to any body and only appears to be due to the false identification of the true Self with the fleeting human form. The Buddha knew exactly what he was speaking of when he stated that:

• life is suffering
• suffering originates in the mind
• the mind suffers due to attachment to transient things
• the body is a transient thing that the mind falsely
identifies with the self
• suffering can be ended by removing its cause

When the individual self is seen for what it really is (i.e., a thought-form) a door opens. This opening signals an awakening to our true nature as 'being-consciousness': the Self. When we realize -- not as a concept but as our direct experience -- our true nature as the Self we lose the feeling of being a separate, isolated 'I'. How does this happen? Our perception shifts. Whereas formerly we saw the world and its people as something external to us, now we see the world, its people and our own body/mind as coexisting elements in a space of consciousness which is our true Self. We do not know the Universe 'in itself'; we know it as it appears to us. The same is true for all of its constituent parts (including our individual self); we know them as they appear to us. To what or within what is all of this appearing? To consciousness. Whose consciousness? No one's or everyone's. Either way, we are not what we think we are. We are not separate little selves struggling to survive in a predatory world. We are that consciousness within which these ideas and perceptions appear. The consciousness that we are is not localized and bound by time and space. The consciousness that we are is not a thing or a field of energy. There may be energy (shakti) associated with consciousness -- our bodies, intellects or auric fields, for instance -- but the pure witnessing consciousness is something other. Earlier we described it as a principle. This term is accurate but also easily misleading. We tend to think of 'principle' as a fundamental truth or proposition, which implies something conceptual. However, in this context the term 'principle' means an existent reality which is not accessible to measurement in the way energy and matter may be. Terms such as 'recognition', 'cognition', 'experience', 'perceiving', 'being aware of', etc., all imply an illuminating factor which is not itself measurable or perceivable. This factor, which is termed 'consciousness' is impossible to objectify. It cannot be turned into something perceivable and yet remain itself. And what makes consciousness so tantalizing is the certain knowledge that although it is not perceivable yet without it nothing will be perceived!

'The Self, the true consciousness....shines as my very existence, beyond the reach of objective knowledge.' [Muruganar, page 359, Padamalai]

'First one sees the Self as objects, then one sees the Self as a void, then one sees the Self as Self; only in this last state there is no seeing because seeing is being.' [Ramana Maharshi, page 273, Padamalai]

As long as we are under the illusion that we are 'separate little selves struggling to survive in a predatory world' we will suffer. It is true that our bodies are subject to adversity, accident and even attack. What turns these setbacks into intense suffering is the wrong identification of the Self with the body. The thought, 'This pain may happen/will happen/is happening to me!' amplifies the discomfort. Even the anticipation of pain causes great suffering. Fear of pain, resistance to it when it is being experienced plus the actual sensation of pain, creates a much greater intensity than the sensation of pain by itself. The mind is a big player in this, and can transform the mild discomfort of some dental work into a horrific episode of unendurable pain. As the poet, John Milton wrote in 'Paradise Lost': 'The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.' The Buddha would have agreed.


Happiness is knowing our true nature

Abiding happiness is unattainable so long as we are ignorant of our true nature. Since the beginning every society has had its sages, each one of whom has stated, in one way or another that we will not find happiness in the external world. Each one has emphasized that we must look within for the fulfillment we seek. Yet, in spite of the perennial presence of these illumined beings, the vast majority stay caught in the illusion that what we are looking for is somehow 'out there', apart from ourselves. Very few are willing to engage in serious introspection. For many, the constant pressures of daily living are the problem. Spouses and children have needs, income must continue flowing in, things must be repaired, replaced or cleaned. People are distracted with anxiety about their future and they feel pressured. Sitting in meditation for 30 or 40 minutes a day looks like a self-indulgent luxury that will have to put off until retirement. It's understandable. People work and sacrifice for a future security that always seems to elude them. By the time they retire -- if they are able to retire -- they are exhausted. Now it's their fears of old age and illness that loom large, disturbing their sleep, giving them nightmares. Who will take care of them when they are no longer able to take care of themselves? Will their children abandon them? Will they end up in some depressing institution, alone and bitter? Will they even be able to afford institutional care? Will they have enough money to maintain a healthy diet. And will dying itself be easy and painless, with loved ones present? Or will it be a long, drawn-out nightmarish affair? Even if their situation is a good one, they will undoubtedly worry. 'What if (fill in the blank) happens?', and then their fears fill in the blanks. Like a hypochondriac, the insecure, restless mind will see, even feel a host of illusory problems as very real threats.

There is a simple method, known as 'self-enquiry' which is a direct and flexible means for overcoming fear and accessing a profound inner feeling of peace and stability. By asking the question 'Who am I?' and fixing our attention on the feeling of 'I am', we pierce through the layers of negative conditioning and find the Real. This Real is not the body, the mind or the world, but rather the Self, the pure 'being-consciousness' that is the background underlying everything. Self-enquiry does not require sitting in meditation or adopting a different life-style or set of beliefs. Rather, it is an actual enquiry into our true nature. It's an investigation in which we make our own discoveries. It's not an indoctrination into a school of thought, a religion or a creed. It is truly a journey of discovery that we may do for ourselves. Others have done it before us and we can read about their experiences and realizations. However, like discovering the taste of an apple for oneself, others may describe it but we can only know it by taking a bite and having our own direct experience.

For a fuller explanation about the practice of self-enquiry read the essay entitled 'Self-Enquiry: The Direct Path'.

Self-Enquiry: The Direct Path

'In meditation, concentration and contemplation, what we have to do is only to not think of anything, but to be still. Then we shall be in our natural state. This natural state is given many names -- liberation, wisdom, the Self, etc.

The Self is realized not by one's doing something, but by one's refraining from doing anything -- by remaining still and being simply what one really is.'
Ramana Maharshi

We are that which we seek

In our book, 'Awakening The Fire Within', we discuss the four major schools of yoga: action (karma), devotion (bhakti), knowledge (jnana) and meditation (raja). They are four paths which crisscross with one another, eventually ending up at the same place, the Self. Temperament is the predominant factor determining which path a student will choose to follow. Each path starts from the supposition that we are separate from our Source and must, through sustained effort, prepare our bodies, minds and hearts for the ultimate attainment: Self- or God-realization. The premise is that we are born separate and must re-unite with the Source. Thus it is a journey that the individual self must make in order to arrive at its place of ultimate Origin. Each path demands purification and emphasizes specific practices that will prepare mind and body for this final encounter. Whichever path we choose, the traditional view is that the journey will be arduous and long.

The method of Self-enquiry, which can be easily practiced by students of any the four paths (or equally by those who do not practice any form of yoga) makes the journey much easier, simpler and pleasant. Self-enquiry, as it has been promulgated by Ramana Maharshi, starts from a different place. It emphasizes that we are already that which we seek. We are already the Self but are unaware of this due to ignorance of our true nature. In other words, there is nothing we need gain since we have already gained it. Having already gained it, all that needs to be relinquished is the false idea that we are something other than what it is we seek. The source of our problem is quite simple: we have identified our self with the body. Of course, there is a body and there is an empirical self. But both the body and the empirical self are appearances occurring in 'being-consciousness'. 'Being-consciousness' is our true nature and is not itself an appearance. Rather, it is that which allows appearances to happen. Without it, there is no body and no ego. Alternatively, 'being-consciousness' continues in the absence of the body and ego appearances. The Self is stable, whereas all other appearances are intermittent and changing. The illusion that these appearances represent us automatically creates deep insecurity. We feel the tentative nature of everything, including ourselves. We disappear at night during sleep and return upon awakening. We feel one way at one moment, another way the next moment. Our ideas are difficult to hold onto: we vacillate on our intentions; our needs, wants and desires are undergoing continual modification, and so forth. The Self, however, is ever present and restful. It is always there as a stabilizing Presence, no matter how chaotic our life may be on the surface. The Self is neither matter nor energy and is therefore not influenced by time, space or causality. It stands aloof, as the silent Witness of all that occurs at the phenomenal level of life. It is our true nature and ultimate refuge. Since it is not subject to causality, it cannot be born, nor can it die. As the classic Hindu text, the Bhagavad-Gita states: 'Weapons cannot cut the Self, fire cannot burn it, water cannot make it wet, nor can wind dry it.' Thus, the Self is immortal.

The 'Here and Now' is always here and now. Time and change appear to be flowing through it, but in a manner similar to a movie being played out on a screen. Without the screen there would be no movie, yet the screen itself is not affected by the images that are bouncing off its surface. Time appears to be passing, but in fact the only moment that is, is Now. Location appears to be shifting as our bodies move around, but in fact the only place that is, is Here. The Self, as 'being-consciousness' is the screen upon which the world-appearance and the empirical ego is projected. Without the Self nothing can appear, yet if nothing appears the Self is still here and now. When our bodies die, the Self remains. All the memories may be lost, all the familiar images may be gone, but the quintessential essence of ourselves is untouched.

The quintessential Self is not something to be found anew. It is already present. In fact, it is overwhelmingly present yet, paradoxically we are not aware of it. Why? Because the Self is not an object to be seen like other objects. It is our very self and thus overlooked. We are trained to look outside, into the environment for the evidence of what exists. But the Self is not external and it is not accessible by the physical senses, so it's there but we do not see it. Only when the mind is brought to a state of absolute stillness, do we become aware of the Self. We become aware, because it is all that is left when every other 'thing' has been removed. We are not asleep yet we are not aware of externals or even subtle internals, such as memories and concepts. What is left when all thought ceases is an awareness of awareness, by Itself. This awareness clearly has a Presence, and this Presence is not separate from ourselves. It is, in fact, our Self. Even if this absolute stillness of mind lasts only for a few seconds, we will not forget it. We will know, unequivocally, that who we really are is not at all what we thought we were. Who we are is not some 'locus' of experience, but rather the space of consciousness within which our intellectually created locus lives. By extension, we also are not the body that carries our name, but rather the space of consciousness within which what we know as 'our body' lives. Our body is as much an appearance as is the tree on the horizon. The same is true of our ego-sense, except that the ego is a thought-form ad therefore the senses are not directly involved.

'First one sees the Self as objects, then one sees the Self as a void, then one sees the Self as Self: only in this last state there is no seeing because seeing is being.' [Ramana Maharshi, page 273, Padamalai]

'Only that stage is final where there is not seeing, where there is no time or space. There will be no seer, seeing and an object to see. What exists then is only the infinite eye (pure awareness). '[ibid.]

'Being-consciousness' is always here, now. We do not need to travel anywhere to find it. Nor do we need to do anything physical, such as yoga poses or breathing techniques in order to get to it. Ramana Maharshi emphasized that the Self is immediately accessible to one and all and that no intermediary is required to know It. We do not require anyone or anything to access the Self because we are already It. A guru or teacher can be a support, can remind us that who we are is the Self, can encourage us to practice Self-enquiry, but beyond these things it is up to us recognize what we already are. Like a man who wrongly sees a snake on the road and feels fear, we need only recognize that the coiled up snake is merely a piece of rope, and then our fear is gone, instantaneously. The more complicated and difficult the sadhana (spiritual practice) we follow, the less effective it is. Since we are already what we seek, the most effective method must be the simplest. Sri Ramana states emphatically, 'be still'. By simply being still we will realize our true nature. Of course, he recognized that 'being still' is almost impossible for most people, and so he recommended the method of Self-enquiry as a support. With consistent practice over time, anyone can gain the ability to 'be still' and transform their life accordingly.


How does Self-enquiry work?

Of the millions of thoughts that appear and disappear in the mind there is one thought which is supremely important. This thought is the 'I'-thought, which invariably takes the form, 'I-am-the-body'. This 'I'-thought is the primal thought which must arise in the mind before any other thought can follow. The 'I'-thought is the first person singular thought. All other thoughts are in the second person ('you') and third person (he, she, it, they, those, etc) categories. The second and third persons can arise only after the arising of the first person. The entire world is composed of second and third persons, yet for any and all of those things and persons to appear, the first person, 'I' must be there.

In sleep, the first person disappears and with it the world of second and third persons. If the sleeper begins to dream, the first thought that will arise will be the 'I'-thought, followed by the entire panoply of objects and characters in the dream. No matter how bizarre the dream may be, there will always be the first person at center stage. The moment the first person withdraws from the stage, the show is over and what remains is deep, dreamless sleep. With this knowledge, we are now in a very powerful position to gain mastery over our turbulent, unruly minds. Instead of fighting against the continual barrage of thoughts to which we are subjected daily, we need only conquer the 'I'-thought. If we can stop the rising of the 'I'-thought (first person) we will automatically stop all other thoughts (second and third persons) at the same instant. And, if we can hold the 'I'-thought at bay for a few minutes, then all other thoughts will be kept at bay as well.

Many meditation techniques try to stop thoughts by focusing on a mantra every time a thought -- any thought: first, second or third person --rises up. This method will work, but it's slow because it will deal with any and all thoughts, of which there are a countless number. Other techniques emphasize focusing on the breath. This method works, up to a point. Again, however, even as other thoughts gradually thin out, the attention is still being held on an object (in this case the breath) and an object is not the Self. Still other techniques encourage focussing on a candle, a picture, a dot, a blank wall, an idol, etc, in order to keep thoughts away, but in every case the mind is still focussed on an object, and an object -- even the most sacred -- is not the Self. All of these methods are useful and must be respected. People who use these methods consistently will advance. There is no question about this. However, this approach is indirect, while the method of Self-enquiry is direct. Self-enquiry is the one method which focusses exclusively upon the first person singular, the 'I'. All other methods focus on second and third persons. These other approaches will succeed eventually in removing all other second and third person thoughts, but one second or third person object will inevitably remain (the picture, flame, dot, idol, etc). In order to get to the Self we will also have to abandon that object as well, which means we will need another method to remove the thought we've been using to remove all other thoughts.

With Self-enquiry we forget about dealing with second and third person thoughts. We put our entire focus on the first person singular knowing that when the primal 'I'-thought disappears, all other thoughts will disappear with it. This is the direct means to realize the Self.

"...When the first person ceases to exist through one's enquiry into the truth of that first person, then the existence of the second and third persons will come to an end..."
Ramana Maharshi, 'Ulladhu Narpadhu', verse 14

When the first person, 'I'-thought is destroyed through Self-enquiry, we are left alone, with the Self and as the Self. This is how we awaken to our true nature, by removing the empirical ego which obscures the true vision of who we are.

Self-attention

Every competent teacher, whether their orientation is spiritual or worldly, emphasizes the importance of developing one-pointedness. The ability to stay focussed on one thing long enough to achieve success is critical. What stops most people from accomplishing their dreams is simply their inability to fix their attention on a goal or intention long enough that it becomes a reality. They get distracted, quit what they are doing when they encounter difficulties, and head off in another direction; they meet with obstacles and walk away; they have self-doubts and surrender in defeat: they don't stay focussed on their original intention and see it through to completion. This one weakness is the cause of so much suffering, despair and failure.

Developing the ability to be one-pointed is critical in any endeavor, especially in the quest to know ourselves. If we are committed to know the Self, then this too will demand one-pointedness. With Self-enquiry we make our point of focus the Self, right from the start. We begin by asking the question, 'Who am I?' and looking for the 'I'-thought or the 'I'-feeling directly. Our attention does not go anywhere else -- a mantra, a candle, the breath, etc -- except back to the 'I am'. The thought or feeling of 'I am' is not the Self, but it is a doorway. Every time we ask the question 'Who am I?' and look for the 'I'-thought/feeling we are pushing against that door. It will be just a matter of time before that door opens and we enter into the vastness of 'being-consciousness'. Just as it takes one-pointedness to acquire a PhD or win an Olympic medal, so it takes one-pointedness to discover our immortality. The Self is immortality, in fact, the only immortality. Everything else, which is governed by the law of cause and effect, has a beginning, a middle and ultimately, an end. For human beings, the end is the death of our precious bodies. At best we can extend our lives through a healthy life-style and perhaps some special yogic techniques, but the most we will accomplish this way will be life-extension. We may earn another five, ten or twenty years. If we are adept yogis, we may gain fifty or a hundred years. In the end, however, this physical vehicle will disintegrate. When we realize our true nature through the practice of self-attention, we lose our fear of losing our physical bodies. We know that we are immortal, because we know that we are not our material bodies, nor even our energetic bodies, but rather the pure 'being-consciousness' that transcends causality. Once we awaken we attain immortality, even though our bodies will eventually drop away.

We should not delude ourselves, thinking that 'being-consciousness' is anything like the 'consciousness of...' of ordinary consciousness. Whatever occurs after the death of the body will undoubtedly be something very different from what we are experiencing as we read this essay. The brain, which is the storehouse of memory and the instrument of intellectual processes will cease functioning. The body and senses, which give us all the pleasures and pains we associate with being alive will no longer be there to give us those experiences. So, what will be left? 'Being-consciousness'. But what will 'being-consciousness' give us? It will give us 'being-consciousness', whatever that is. 'Being-consciousness' is our immortality. It is the essence of life. It is pure Existence beyond the ordinary duality of existence/non-existence. It is the pure Existence underlying existence/non-existence. The Vedas call it sat-chit-ananda: being-consciousness-bliss. So according to these ancient teachings, the state of simple 'being-consciousness' is bliss. But how could it be bliss if there are no objects and other living creatures from whom to derive our pleasures? Surely, the experience of bliss demands an I-other duality. Well, this information is not accessible to us, when we are still in the incarnate, body-attachment state. Perhaps the state of nirvikalpa samadhi give us a hint of what it could be like. In nirvikalpa samadhi the meditator has ceased all thinking, all perceiving, all physical and emotional sensing. Is this a state of bliss? The answer is 'yes'. There is a perfect awareness of being which accompanies a condition of absolute peace and effortlessness. It is so restful and intimate that the meditator does not want to leave that state. The body and its needs will eventually pull him out, but while in nirvikalpa samadhi there is no sense that anything is missing, no sense of an empty void, no longing, no unconsciousness, no dullness, no lack. Perhaps this gives us a hint what could after the body drops away at the time of death.

"The means to set aside thought-attention and regain Self-attention is as follows. At the very moment that each thought rises, if one vigilantly enquires 'To whom did this rise?', it will be known 'To me'. If one then enquires 'Who am I?', our power of attention (the mind) will turn back from the thought to its source (Self); then, since one one is there to attend to it the thought which had risen will also subside. By repeatedly practising thus, the power of the mind to abide in its source increases." Ramana Maharshi, 'Who am I?'

Tales of power

Sakti is another name for energy or power. According to ordinary common-sense, which is based on a perception of the world derived largely from the physical senses, the living person -- i.e., the individual spirit, is separate from the material objects that it perceives. There is a built-in dualism in ordinary experience, which everyone must accept in order to function in this world. In spite of this, over the centuries scientific investigation has revealed that matter is fundamentally energy. As such, the whole notion of 'discreteness' -- which is the idea of a universe made up of separate, distinct objects -- has fallen into disfavor. The acceptance of 'discreteness' is important for practical affairs, for example, I recognize that my body is distinct from your body and I do not touch you without first receiving your permission. This distinction is vitally important in a civil society. Yet, at a more subtle level, our bodies are not really distinct. If I enter the presence of someone who is deeply depressed, after a while I will feel that person's depression at an emotional, even physical level. Everyone has experienced how their own energy level fluctuates in accordance with the energy level of someone they are spending time with. In the presence of some people we feel more alert, while in the presence of others, more fatigued. It is the interaction of sense-data and the intellect which creates the impression of separate 'things' composing the universe. In fact, these 'things' can be reduced to energy and the energy exchanges among them. Thus, it is more accurate to says that we are witnessing 'power' rather and objects and events. 'Power' is, so to speak, dressed up to look like 'things', but this is only an impression created in the mind. What we are witnessing is power, neither more nor less.

Now the question is, what is the source of 'power'? If power has a source, then our own bodies must arise from that same source, since they too are made up of power, even though they appear to be 'things' quite distinct from the other things which make up this universe. At one point in time, we did not have a body. Then we became a tiny embryo. Over time we grew into these large, complex bodies. Growth involves energy, but what is the source of this energy? Our universe may have started with a 'Big Bang', appearing at a tiny point at the beginning of time and setting off a chain of events which has evolved into this vast cosmos. Whatever Source is, it is not a 'thing' or something directly perceivable. We may call it a field of all possibilities or of pure potential, etc. but it is something of which we cannot be aware until it begins to manifest. In its unmanifest state, we cannot know of it. At best, we can infer it and look for some manifestation of it to give strength to our inference. The ancient rishis (seers) who gave us the upanishads (collectively call Vedanta) intuited that power (sakti) and awareness arise from the same source -- i.e., 'being-consciousness' (Self). If what they intuit is true, then there is no real duality of energy and consciousness. This would mean that the energy/matter we witness and the consciousness by which we witness energy/matter are not separate. It would mean that the seer-seen polarity is only apparently so, while in reality there is no true distinction between the perceiver and that which is perceived.

Yoga is Awareness

Whether pure or impure, whether all places are permeated by purity or impurity, whoever opens himself to the expanded vision of limitless awareness gains inner and outer purity.

ancient Hindu invocation


Yoga: ancient knowledge in the new millennium

Yoga began to take root in the West at the end of the nineteenth century. Its influence has grown steadily for the past one hundred years and shows no signs of abating. Rather, interest in this ancient and time-tested methodology is accelerating not only in the West but also throughout the world, including the Middle East and the Far East. Increasing disillusionment with the world’s traditional religions has created a spiritual vacuum that the human spirit longs to fill. Yoga, although an integral aspect of Hinduism, is a scientific and rationalistic approach to Self-knowledge and inner peace, and as such is free from the dogmatism and leaps of faith often required in traditional religion. The benefits of yoga can be and are being verified scientifically for all to see. These benefits, which can be directly experienced by anyone who even briefly takes up the practice, are responsible for the universal appeal of yoga. Additionally, yoga does not call for anyone to change their religion or adopt other cultural traits. Yoga can be easily integrated into the spiritual practices of people of all faiths and philosophies. An open mind and a commitment to improving the quality of one's life are the only prerequisites. In a world that is currently overshadowed by dark clouds of militancy and militarism, pollution and environmental degradation, and personal and social turmoil, yoga offers a very bright light for one and all. Yoga is a divine offering to all humanity.

The practices of yoga, principally the postures, breathing techniques and science of meditation are powerful engines for cleaning up our negative unconscious and bringing us to greater self-awareness. Although the final end of yoga is Self-realisation or liberation, the actual process of yoga is one of self-healing and self-discovery at every level: psychological, physical, emotional and spiritual. Through yoga we develop our personal power and a higher self-esteem. As our false, negative and largely unconscious beliefs are erased through yoga practice, we become sane and whole again. Sanity, as defined in yoga philosophy is our natural state: the state of knowing our true nature; ignorance of our true nature is considered a sub-normal condition. The ultimate purpose of life is to awaken from this self-created dream of suffering and death.

It is not enough to understand our fears, phobias and anti-social characteristics. Understanding is only a first step. We must also work to transform these negative features into a positive, affirmative approach to life. Yoga masters never tire of repeating that yoga is ninety-percent practice and only ten-percent theory and concepts. This is why yoga, although rooted in Hinduism, is not a religion or theology. In a capsule, yoga's primary focus is on self-enquiry and direct experience; it is not dogma or a system of morality. 'Who are we?' is the ultimate question raised by yoga. Each person must know the truth of himself through immediate intuition, and this demands some effort. Practice is the key to success. Endless philosophical speculation and scholarly disputes about the nature of cosmic and personal reality will get us nowhere. Yogis compare someone who does this to an ass carrying a load of books.

Yoga philosophy and practise developed over thousands of years. The theoretical side of yoga is not based on speculation or intellectual analysis. Yoga theory developed out of the direct experience of yogis over many millennia. From their immediate realisations, born of deep meditation and self-enquiry, they were able to articulate the structure and process of both personal and cosmic reality.

Yoga theory incorporates a deep grasp of the psychological nature of the mind, which is developed in the twin yogic notions of samskaras (impressions) and vasanas (mental tendencies). A basic grasp of the metaphysics and psychology of self-ignorance is essential for success on the path of self-knowledge. The following pages will provide a condensed overview of yoga philosophy, as well as its practical application through postures, breath, meditation and self-enquiry.


The self (ego) and the Self (being-consciousness)

In the West there is a tendency to confuse the term ‘soul’ with the yogic term paramatman or ‘Self’. Traditionally, westerners have thought of the soul as a spirit that leaves the body at the moment of death and enters a heavenly or hellish plane of existence. Its counterpart, the ‘self’, is regarded as the ego or personality. In modern times, these ideas are still generally prevalent. This notion of the soul is more akin to the eastern view of a ‘subtle body’ that breaks away from the gross body at the time of death and continues to work out its evolution on other planes. In Indian philosophy the notion of the ego is referred to as ahamkara ('the self that thinks it is the doer'). The Self of yoga, however, has a radically different connotation from either the soul or the ego-self as conceived in the West.

The Indian notion of the Self is fully developed in a collection of sacred teachings known as the Upanishads. These philosophically rich scriptures pre-date the Buddha (c. 500 BC) and would certainly have had an influence on his thinking prior to his enlightenment. The ancient seers (rishis), to whom the Upanishads were revealed in meditation, considered the Absolute to be being-consciousness-bliss (sat-chit-ananda). From a limitless power (sakti) inherent in the Absolute arises the Supreme Person or God (Iswara) who is the source and sustainer of the universe and life forms. At the core of both this Supreme Person and all living beings is the same Absolute – being-consciousness-bliss – and this Reality is not different from the Self (paramatman). The Upanishads proclaim the view that Reality is ‘One without a second’ and that at the core we too are that Reality, surface appearances notwithstanding. To realise the Self, then, is to realise the foundational reality of all that is as the very being of oneself.

The Self is also called the Heart, the ultimate Source from which our life, body, thoughts, feelings, sensations, dreams, memories and even desires arise. When through ignorance of our real nature the sense of ‘I am’ gets identified with the body-mind we experience ourselves as separate from our surroundings and from our own Source. This is the true cause of our loneliness, isolation, fear and low self-esteem. Returning to the Heart and realising our identity with It is the only way to overcome death and put an end to our suffering. This is the final purpose of yoga.


Prana (vital force)

‘The whole adventure of yoga is but the play of pranic force…’

Sakti, the power inherent within the Absolute, manifests as prana or vital force. Prana is the totality of all energy that is manifest in the universe, including everything from heat, light, magnetism, electricity and gravitation to mental activity, emotions and every function of body and mind. Prana is also the bio-energy of all life forms. When prana - the bio-energy of the body - departs, the body dies. Prana is the primal force of the Universe, extending from the sub-atomic to the galaxies and beyond. The molecules of water making up an ocean are a form of prana, as are the waves that endlessly pass through that same body of water. Whatever exists or manifests is prana, whether subtle or gross, whether visible or invisible; all that is relative and changing is a manifestation of the sakti inherent in the Self and therefore cannot exist apart from the Self.

Prana governs the breath and is the motor power of the mind-stuff. For this reason it has been said that he who knows the secret of prana knows the secret of yoga. The breath is an external aspect or form of manifestation of prana, the life force that permeates and sustains all organisms. Blockages and addictions spawned by trauma, stress, sexual, physical or mental abuse, repressed emotions, etc., negatively influence the movement of prana in living systems. Prana is energy and energy can neither be created nor destroyed, but if its natural flow is obstructed it will find another way to manifest. In humans this takes the form of disease, mental illness, harmful behaviour and all internal conditions which undermine our well-being and happiness.

The organism itself is prana and, as such, is governed by an evolutionary principle inherent within all living systems. This internal self-evolving tendency manifests as the built-in capacity of the organism to self-correct imbalances and purify itself of toxic substances, whether material or psychic. Of course, there are limits and if the system is subjected to a massive trauma or too much stress there will be a complete breakdown and the death of the body will occur. This same evolutionary principle is the inner force that drives humans to survive, seek solutions to their problems and move in the direction of greater happiness, well-being and freedom. Indeed, the timeless practice of yoga (as well as humanity's perennial fascination with spirituality and religion) is due to this principle. Yoga is a collection physical and mental technologies designed to eliminate obstacles to the natural flow of prana in the body-mind.

The techniques of pranayama (breath control) form a vital component of these methodologies. Pranayama is a means to regulate and direct the flow of prana through various breathing techniques. The immediate results of pranayama are increased emotional stability, deeper relaxation, greater mental clarity and a growing ability to concentrate. All of these benefits enhance the organism’s capacity to self-purify. Simply by amplifying the flow of oxygen to the brain, major organs, cells and bodily extremities, the system’s resistance to disease is strengthened. Furthermore, the profound relaxation and mental calm that follows from the practice of pranayama facilitates the body’s ability to dissolve stress and tension, thereby producing greater stability in the nervous system and a more relaxed, supple body. These benefits alone will strengthen the body’s immune system. Regular practice of pranayama is also an effective support for reducing drug and alcohol dependencies and overcoming depression.


Chakras and the subtle body

Prana manifests as both the gross physical body and the subtle etheric body, which comprise the totality of the organism. The breath is the link that binds the gross and subtle aspects of the organism together. With our final breath comes the death of the gross body but not of the etheric body, which continues its journey as a subtle manifestation of prana. Although the gross and subtle bodies are distinct there is an intimate relationship between the two. In fact, to some extent these two bodies mirror each other. Wherever a group of nerves, arteries or veins interlace each other in the physical body, that point or centre is called a plexus. Similarly, there is a network of subtle nerves called nadis in the etheric body through which the subtle prana passes, and wherever a group of these nadis interlace, that location is called a chakra (locus of consciousness and vital force). The etheric body with its nadis and chakras permeates the gross body and exerts a subtle yet important influence.

Although the chakras are not perceivable by the gross senses, with practice one will begin to feel them during pranayama and meditation. There are seven major chakras associated with the physical body and they are located at the base of the spine, near the genitals, at the navel, near the heart, in the throat, in the centre of the forehead and at the crown of the head. These seven chakras are linked by a major nadi located within the centre of the spinal column called the sushumna. The sushumna nadi runs from the base of the spine to the head. Kundalini energy, which is another manifestation of prana within the subtle body, moves up the sushumna nadi as a result of spiritual practice. As the kundalini moves along the sushumna it stimulates and awakens each chakra (centre of consciousness) in succession.

Starting from the base of the spine, each successive chakra represents a more refined aspect of the subtle body. The awakening of each chakra reflects an evolution in individual consciousness. In ascending order, the seven chakras are as follows:

• 1st Root chakra centre for self-preservation
• 2nd Spleen chakra centre for self-gratification
• 3rd Power chakra centre for self-definition
• 4th Heart chakra centre for self-acceptance
• 5th Throat chakra centre for self-expression
• 6th Third Eye chakra centre for self-reflection
• 7th Crown chakra centre for self-knowledge

According to traditional yoga philosophy, when the serpentine kundalini energy reaches the seventh (crown) chakra the yogi attains liberation (moksha). However, according to Ramana Maharshi, a highly regarded modern sage, final liberation is attained with a final merging of the individual consciousness in the spiritual Heart or Self, which is not a chakra, but rather the Source from which the physical body, subtle body and chakras arise and will ultimately merge (analogous to rivers and streams merging into the ocean from which they originated).

People interested in spirituality often confuse the subtle body with the Self, but this is incomplete knowledge. According to jnana yoga (the yoga of knowledge), the subtle body, as well as the physical body, are aspects of Self, exist within Self, are pervaded by Self and arise from Self. However, the Self is in no way dependent on the subtle or gross bodies. The Self is, with or without the adjuncts of the subtle and gross bodies. The real ‘I am’ is the Self, the ‘I am that I am’. The gross and subtle bodies are also the self (with a small ‘s’), meaning the 'ego-self', 'empirical self' or 'personal self'. The small self is fleeting, relative, prone to accidents and subject to decay. The mistaken notion that we are limited to this relative body is the existential source of our fear and misery. When we realise our true Self, we will still enjoy this relative existence but without the anxiety that arises from dread of our own mortality. According to jnana yoga our real nature is being-consciousness, which isimmortal and beyond the laws of cause and effect, time and space, birth and death.


Samskaras (impressions) and vasanas (mental tendencies)

Dreaming is the realm of the subtle body. During sleep the physical senses are not functioning, yet during our dreams we see, hear, smell, taste and touch objects as vividly as when our senses are awake in our daily activity. Our dreams are a melange of stress release, memories, phantasms, desires, fears, premonitions, inner guidance and profound realisations. When we are awake, the laws of physicality and the operation of our five senses dominate our consciousness. However, the subtle body also exerts its influence on our daily thoughts, feelings and actions through the impressions (samskaras) and mental tendencies (vasanas) buried within it.

These samskaras and vasanas together form the ‘unseen hand’ that guides the choices we make and actions we do. When someone feels impelled from within to do something he regrets, apparently against his better judgement, he says ‘The devil made me do it.’ In this case, his ‘devil’ is actually a mental tendency (vasana) residing in his subtle body that is powerfully exerting influence on his outward behaviour. Until we understand the role of samskaras and vasanas in our behavioural patterns, it is very difficult to bring about any real transformation in our life and we are left in mystery as to why we make the choices we make.

Samskaras are subtle imprints impressed on the mind-stuff as a result of our interactions with our environment. These imprints themselves are not memories, however, memories are made up of collections of such imprints. According to yoga theory our subtle body has incarnated onto the physical plane countless times, accumulating a huge number of samskaras which it carries forward from incarnation to incarnation. The mind can consciously remember only the most recent of these samskaras. However, the mass of older, buried samskaras is also affecting us at a subconscious level. When enough samskaras accumulate in a particular direction they form a mental tendency called vasana.

Vasanas are the inclinations formed from our previous impressions (samskaras). The vasanas reside in the subtle body as well, and when the subtle body incarnates into a new physical body it carries its vasanas with it. This is why a child is not born tabula rasa, but arrives with already established characteristics and a distinct mental predisposition. Some of these pre-established traits may not begin to manifest until later life, however they reside latently within the psyche of the newly born infant like seeds awaiting the right moment to sprout. Unlike samskaras, vasanas are relatively easy to identify as we need only examine our behavioural and thought patterns to discover them. For example, if an individual soul has developed a taste for gambling during past lives through an accumulation of impressions associated with this type of activity, that soul will be reborn into a new body with a built-in mental tendency to gamble. Like a fertile seed, this vasana will require only the right set of circumstances to germinate.

Our mental tendencies create 'thought patterns' (vrittis) in the mind. The predilections, prejudices and urges that make up our vasanas motivate the direction of our thinking and this in turn produces repetitive thought patterns. These thinking patterns form our attitudes and character. In order to think we must be conscious, but the underlying motivation behind our thinking is predominantly unconscious. Until we begin to investigate what exactly is driving our thinking, we are ‘at the effect’ of these unconscious motivations. What most people do, however, is defend, justify and rationalise their thinking rather than investigate why it is they think a particular way. For instance, bigots do not examine why they are bigots; instead they justify their bigotry and stay bigots. Children are not born bigots, but often become so in later life. Racism is a good example of an 'activated' vasana.

Our thought patterns (vrittis) lead to actions. We act because our vrittis tell us to act, which then produces further impressions (samskaras). The vrittis dictate what our actions will be in order to satisfy the urges and inclinations (vasanas) that gave rise to the vrittis in the first place. Our vasanas in turn have been produced by collections of similar samskaras imposed on the mind by earlier actions. From this is easily seen the innumerable vicious cycles that this process creates: impressions produce tendencies, which produce thought patterns, which produce actions, which produce further impressions, which produce further tendencies, etc. This cycle has the unfortunate characteristic of reinforcing and adding mass to our negative behavioural patterns.

Our unconscious patterns and negative ways of being in the world are all vasanas. Becoming conscious of our vasanas and destroying them through yogic breathing, meditation, self-enquiry and whatever other effective means are available is the only way to break out of our self-created mental prison and get free.

Yoga philosophy considers this cycle of samskaras-vasanas-vrittis-karmas (actions) to be a beginningless and endless causal chain. We will not stop this process, but we can step out of the cycle by realising the deepest aspect of ourselves, the Self. Mental contact with the Self through self-enquiry is pure, intuitive knowledge (realisation) and this direct knowledge is like a fire that burns the seeds of our samskaras, destroying their capacity to germinate and thus weakening the vasanas. The Self is the Source and support of Creation, yet remains untouched by Creation and its cycles. When we realise that we are the Self and not the ego, we are automatically released from the eternal chain of cause and effect to which our bodies and minds are subjected.


Kriya pranayama

There are a wide variety of techniques of pranayama, and each one has its own specific benefits. Some of these techniques can be grouped according to similarity of method and results. We have utilised the term, kriya pranayama to describe a type of breathing process that incorporates the following characteristics:

• Connected, circular breathing
• Inhale flows into exhale, exhale flows into inhale
• Relaxed, 'let-go' exhale
• Always breathing though both nostrils
• Any combination of short, medium and long breaths
• Practised with or without asanas
• Practised sitting upright or lying down
• Practice period of one minute to one hour

Kriya pranayama strengthens the lungs and increases breathing capacity, contributing to more abundant health and energy. There is a correlation between the fluidity of our breath and our physical and emotional well being. When we are relaxed and centred, our breath is even, smooth and steady; when we are afraid, angry or tense our breath is rough, irregular, laboured or suppressed. By working with our breath we will improve our mental, emotional and physical health.

All forms of pranayama should be practised where there is plenty of fresh air. Deeper, fuller breathing brings more oxygen into the body, thereby strengthening the body's resistance to disease. Physical toxins are released through breathing. The body eliminates about 70% of its waste material through respiration, 20% through the skin and only 10% through defecation and urination. Healthy breathing techniques taught in yoga have been found to greatly benefit those suffering from asthma, allergies, high or low blood pressure, insomnia, high anxiety, panic attacks, stress-related heart conditions, hyperactivity, chronic pain, and metabolic and endocrine imbalances.

The following is a list of some other ways kriya pranayama can contribute to a better quality of life:

• improved mental focus
• increased mindfulness/self-awareness
• increased energy, both mental and physical
• greater mental and physical calm
• reduced migraines and head-aches
• increased alertness
• improved digestion
• strengthened immune system
• reduced unwanted weight
• sharpened sensory perception
• improved circulation of body energy
• reduced depression and suicidal impulses
• reduced emotional dependency
• reduced obsessive behavior
• reduced addiction to drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, etc.
• greater power of discrimination
• increased motivation and self-appreciation

Kriya pranayama is an effective practice for eliminating both physical and psychic toxins from our system. Experience with the more intense forms of kriya pranayama has shown it to be an effective means for releasing and integrating blocked emotions and negative preconscious memories This method of connected, circular breathing allows to weaken and even neutralize the vasanas which cause so much difficulty and torment in our lives.

These forms of pranayama are best done under the guidance of an experienced breath-worker who provides a securing presence and can give additional methods, such as affirmations, mirror exercises, writing exercises, etc, to facilitate the clearing process. People who are suffering from depression and death-urge benefit greatly from kriya pranayama, which opens the nadis (subtle nerves) and removes blockages to the energy flow in the body.


Powers (siddhis)

It is well established in yoga that there are techniques for developing extra-ordinary powers (siddhis). The sages, however, have never encouraged their students to focus on attaining them. Instead, they have urged seekers to seize the opportunity of this incarnation to attain self-realisation. For the sages, the Self is Reality and to realise It is to realise our immortality. The body, being form, is subject to the laws of time, space and causality. The Self, however, is the eternal Present and Source of both time and space. To realise the Self is to transcend all limitations of relative existence.

Science itself is a power discovered by human beings that allows us to manipulate physical laws. Siddhas (yogis who have mastered the siddhis) have also done this since ancient times. Manipulating natural law, however, comes with a price as we have discovered with the advancement of science and technology. Every new invention creates a new set of problems that often outweigh the initial benefit. Atomic energy is a good example of this. Genetic engineering may well prove to be another.

For the sages, going after siddhis is a lure of the ego that draws us away from our real purpose, which is to attain self-knowledge. Furthermore, whatever limited success we gain in pursuing siddhis will tend to reinforce our egoism, which will in turn increase our thirst for power and control. It can also degenerate into black magic, which is pervasive in many parts of the world today.

Ramana Maharshi emphasised that the only ‘siddhi’ worth attaining is self-realisation. He also acknowledged that those who self-realise often find themselves bestowed with siddhis such as clairvoyance and precognition, but these come to them naturally as a bestowal of Grace. Moreover, being self-realised they have no attachment to these powers and use them, if at all, only for positive ends.


The origins of yoga

The subcontinent of ancient India was primarily an agrarian society made up of small towns, villages and farms. Primitive tribes of hunters and foragers inhabited the remoter regions. It was a diverse land of many kingdoms, peoples and languages. It was here that the timeless practice of yoga took root more than 5,000 years ago. Modern India still reflects that ancient land, with most of her various peoples still living in rural villages and relying on agriculture as their main source of livelihood. Travelling in India today, one hears many different languages, notices a wide diversity of customs and cannot help but observe an array of different body types and skin colours in the different regions. With a population of more than one billion, modern India is the world’s largest democracy. In spite of huge demographic challenges and a history of being invaded and plundered and then assimilating her invaders, it is remarkable that India not only holds together as a democratic nation, but is also advancing rapidly as an economic power within the global community.

The secret of India’s strength and capacity to endure lies in her living Vedic philosophy which reaches back to at least 4000 BC. This open, multifaceted, pluralistic and often misunderstood spiritual system unfolded over the millennia and culminated in a series of inspired teachings known as the Upanishads. The principal Upanishads were intuitively cognized by a series of seers (rishis). Intellectual discourse and debate played only a secondary role in their creation. What distinguishes the Upanishads is their remarkable philosophical insight into the nature of reality and almost exclusive focus on the subject of enlightenment or self-realisation. It was the great seventh century sage, Adi Shankara, who wrote his famous commentaries on the principal Upanishads, establishing the non-dual nature of reality. Shankara established that 'non-duality' is the core message of these ancient teachings. He argued, brilliantly, that the perception of 'otherness' is merely a projection of the mind on a unitary substratum of 'being-consciousness'. 'All is One' proclaim the Upanishads. The self only appears to the mind to be a separate entity, while in reality it too has being in the One. He used the analogy of a rope being misperceived as a snake to convey how the illusion of projection works. In a way similar to the Buddha, Shankara and the Upanishads teach that our suffering originates in our own minds and arises from our false understanding of reality and of our own true nature, which is 'being-consciousness'.

In every century, India has produced numerous sages who have found, through their direct intuition and experience, the answers to these questions. Ramana Maharshi, Ramakrishna and Nisargadatta are some of the more renowned masters of the science of non-duality who have appeared within the past couple of centuries. Most of India’s spiritual adepts, however, have come and gone quietly, largely unknown except to a few disciples and seekers.

Upanishadic wisdom is usually approached, initially, through the practice of yoga. The Upanishads provide an inspiring vision of what is attainable by every human being, while yoga provides us with a path towards realising it. People take up the practice of yoga for many and varied reasons, although the real underlying motivation for beginning yoga practice is a deep, often unconscious impulse to return to the very Source of ourselves, which is 'being-consciousness' or the Self. The methods of yoga are diverse and practised according to the temperament and maturity of the individual student. Each seeker has a unique personal and karmic history, as well as physiology, mind and life purpose. No two students of yoga will follow exactly the same path, and while the practices of yoga are varied, their ultimate purpose is always the same, as revealed in the word ‘yoga’ itself, which means ‘to join, to unite’. The final objective of yoga is to awaken us to our true nature and put an end to our fear, loneliness and misery.

It is difficult to assess the antiquity of yoga except to say that it is very old. Over many centuries various schools of yoga evolved in different regions of the Indian subcontinent. Around the second century BC, a great sage by the name of Patanjali synthesised and formulated the major schools into a unified system known as raja (royal) yoga. In the centuries following Patanjali, his work, known as the Yoga Sutras came to be recognised as the authoritative text on the yoga system. All competent modern teachers of yoga recognise the Yoga Sutras as the key text of raja yoga and study it.

The growing popularity of yoga in the West has been focussed primarily on just one of the eight limbs of raja yoga, which is the asanas (postures). To a lesser extent a second limb, pranayama (breath control), is often included alongside the practice of asanas. Four of the remaining six limbs refer to the stages of meditation. Meditation is also incorporated into current western yoga practice, but much less frequently. An ideal yoga session, however, integrates asanas, pranayama and meditation into a seamless flow which may
last up to an hour and a half or even longer. The two remaining limbs of raja yoga address ethics and certain observances that the student is encouraged to follow. The limb dealing with observances (niyama) enjoins the student to study sacred texts, respect his or her teacher and practice contentment in the face of adversity. The limb concerned with ethics (yama) discourages harmful behaviour, such as dishonesty, disloyalty and violence (himsa) toward other life forms. The Yoga Sutras also encourage devotion to God (Iswara), but this is not a prerequisite. In fact, love for the Supreme Being develops naturally as a result of the awakening and purifying influence of yoga practice.

Although most students are referring to raja yoga when discussing their practice, it is in fact only one of four major paths (margas) of yoga that are traditionally recognised in Indian philosophy. These four paths are discussed in depth in one of the most important sacred texts of Hinduism, the Bhagavad-Gita (‘The Song of God’).


The Four Paths Of Yoga

Raja Yoga:

This is the path of mind control, the Yoga of Meditation. By bringing the breath and thought processes under control, primarily through asanas, pranayama and dhyana (meditation), the mind will become completely quiescent and free of thoughts. This state should not be confused with sleep or trance, since the inner experience is one of intense awareness, deep peace and of being totally in the ‘now’. When this experience is stabilised through repeated practice the yogi maintains an extra-ordinary yet natural, effortless and continuous state of complete self-awareness throughout every moment of the three ordinary states of consciousness: waking, sleeping and dreaming. This state of self-realisation is termed moksha (liberation).

Meditation is key to success in raja yoga. Yogic forms of meditation usually include the use of a mantra (sacred sound) which enables the student to focus his mind on a single point, gradually achieving a state of perfect concentration and equipoise. No longer disturbed by either extrinsic (e.g., external noise, odours) or intrinsic (e.g., internal memories, desires) distractions, the mind eventually merges into its own source, the Self. Although effort is required in the early stages of meditation, this final step requires no struggle on the part of the student since the delightful nature of the Self functions like a magnet for the mind, drawing it into a state of pure, silent Self-awareness. Once the mind has been cleansed of its negative conditioning and outgoing tendency, it is simply drawn into the Source from which it arose in the first place. In this method, the mind focusses on an object (mantra) in order to realize the true nature of the subject (Self). As we shall see later, the method of 'self-enquiry' (atma vichara) is simpler and more direct, since by asking the question, 'Who am I?' the mind focusses directly on the subject (the 'I am') rather than an object (the mantra).

The successive and progressive stages of meditation make up the final four of the eight limbs of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras. These four stages are:

• pratyahara (withdrawal of the attention from sense objects)
• dharana (fixing the attention on a single object, usually a mantra)
• dhyana (steady flow of attention toward the object of meditation)
• samadhi (absorption, when mind merges into its source: the Self).

When the student is able to remain steadily and effortlessly absorbed in the Self and as the Self, even while his body is engaged in dynamic activity or deep sleep, he is considered Self-realised. At this stage, he has direct knowledge that his true nature is the Self. He no longer experiences himself as a limited, suffering ego-mind locked inside a body. This state of Self-realisation is also termed ‘release from bondage’ or ‘liberation’ (moksa). In classical yoga 'bondage' is defined as a condition of suffering arising from ignorance of the Self. Due to illusion, the Self is wrongly identified with the 'body-mind', which occurs principally through contact of the physical senses with the external world. This book is an exploration of how this illusion comes about and how it can be corrected.

Since all that has form is inherently limited by that form, as well as by the concrete limitations of time and space, identifying the ‘I am’ with the body immediately limits us to a physical object. Our identification of the ‘I am’ with the body-mind automatically creates the sense that ‘I am bound’ -- by time, space, circumstance and the physical laws which govern both the universe and our own physicality. It's this limiting identification which produces suffering. The body, as long as it lives, will always be bound but this does not have to mean that ‘I’ am bound. If by, ‘I’, the body is meant, then of course 'I am bound'. However, if my true self (the ‘I am that I am’) is something other than my physical form -- something more fundamental than the body-mind -- then 'I' am not bound. When the seeker realises, through meditation and self-enquiry, that the true ‘I am’ is not limited to the body nor in anyway subject to the physical laws governing birth and death, then he realises that he is inherently free. He recognises that his feeling of bondage was a product of his own mind rather than an imposed reality over which he has no control. Once he awakens to who and what he truly is, the illusion of bondage falls away, as does his suffering.


Bhakti yoga:

The Yoga of Devotion (bhakti) emphasises surrender to the will of God or, what ultimately comes to the same thing, the Self. Ardent love for our Creator and a dedicating of all our actions to that Sublime Being both purifies the mind and opens the Heart. Through devotion and surrender practised on a daily basis, comes the complete and final release into union with the Divine. Love for the Source of creation develops spontaneously as a result of purification and opening the Heart.

There is a strong element of bhakti in each of the four paths of yoga, since self-purification and a quest for the Source is inherent in each path. Bhakti yoga, however, focuses principally on the worship of and love for the personal God, and is most suited to those with a strongly emotional nature.

Sri Ramakrishna is undoubtedly the most renowned bhakta in modern history, with his intense and single-minded devotion to God in the form of the Divine Mother.


Karma yoga:

The Yoga of Action (karma) emphasises selfless service as a path to the Divine. Working for the welfare of others and offering the fruits of such labour to God is an exalted form of worship. Strictly speaking, all actions and their fruits must be offered to God on this path. This approach cultivates detachment and dispassion toward worldly things, equanimity in the face of hardship and setbacks, and supports the seeker in overcoming his egocentric tendencies.

Mahatma Gandhi was a renowned karma yogi who dedicated his life to the welfare of the oppressed and downtrodden. Through his tireless, life-long campaign of non-violent civil disobedience and grassroots socio-economic programs for rural and village uplift, he transformed India and her place in the world.


Jnana yoga:

The Yoga of Knowledge (jnana) focuses on the question, ‘Who am I?’. The seeker meditates directly on the Self, understanding that to know the Self is to know the Supreme Reality in Its essence. This is a path of discriminative wisdom which questions the real identity of the ‘I’ that we unconsciously assume ourselves to be. Through a deep, unrelenting enquiry into the true nature of the ‘I’, we come to discover that we are not exclusively the body-mind. Rather, we come to the direct realisation that the Self, which is the Source of thought and the ultimate Subject, cannot also be an object of thought. We can never know It as an objective reality, either intellectually or through the senses. Thus, we cannot know the ‘I am that I am’ solely by means of intellectual analysis or scientific observation. In fact, we can truly know It only by being It.

‘To know who you are, be who you are’, said Ramana Maharshi, India’s most famous exponent of jnana yoga and the teaching of non-duality in recent history. This highly revered sage has reinterpreted and rejuvenated the ancient practice of Self-enquiry for modern times, making it accessible to all people, everywhere.


The Four Paths of Yoga are One

Despite apparent differences among the various schools of yoga, in essence they are one. It is understood that on the road to freedom every seeker inevitably will encounter and explore each of these paths. Only one of the four yogas, however, will become his dominant path, depending on his individual temperament and capacity.

Thus, Mahatma Gandhi was a karma yogi but also a great devotee of God. He dedicated his life to serving the Supreme Being and he would consciously surrender the fruits of all his actions to the Lord. His last words, uttered at the moment of his assassination, were ‘Rama, Rama, Rama’ (‘God, God, God’).

By comparison, Ramana Maharshi, who exemplified the path of jnana yoga (knowledge), would arise each morning at 3:00 AM and prepare food for the many seekers who came to sit in his presence, thus acting much as a karma yogi. Sri Ramana insisted that the poor, who came daily to his ashram for a meal, be fed first. He also unfailingly tended to the needs of the many animals, both wild and domestic, that sought his care and protection. And he would be deeply moved, even to tears, whenever discussing the subject of God, thus expressing the devotion of bhakti yoga.

When any seeker, following any one of the four paths of yoga, finally awakens to the reality of his innermost nature and attains self-realisation, he automatically exemplifies self-mastery (raja), devotion (bhakti), knowledge (jnana) and selfless action (karma). These attributes of mental poise, love, knowledge and selfless service are the untainted manifestations of the single Source of all life. Each river on this planet follows its own course, yet each one returns to the same ocean from which they all came finally merging with and embodying the ocean’s attributes. Likewise, when the seeker awakens to his oneness with his own Source he spontaneously embodies all divine qualities characterised by the various paths of yoga.


The Eight Limbs of Raja Yoga

The classical raja yoga of Patanjali is an integral and holistic system of self-mastery. It is holistic because it effects a transformation at every level of our life: social, physical, emotional, mental and spiritual. It is integral because all of its eight limbs are interdependent and should be practised together to produce the desired result: enlightenment and enlightened living.

Most students of this path start with just one of the limbs, very often the asanas (postures), and gradually incorporate the other seven. Our own inner inclinations, as well as circumstances will determine
where we start. For instance, we may have a back problem and a friend suggests that the yoga class she attends can help us overcome it. So we give it a try and join her at a local yoga studio. Perhaps we begin our practice with the twelve flowing movements of the Sun Salutation and observe an immediate benefit. The Sun Salutation is highly effective because it works with every major muscle group in the body, while simultaneously co-ordinating deep breathing with each of the twelve movements. We notice that our back pain has diminished and we feel physically better. We also feel calmer and more centred. We think ‘this is marvelous!’, and start attending classes regularly. This is a common example of how people embark on the path of raja yoga. Others may start by signing up for a course in yogic meditation and discover the deep
satisfaction of Self-communion and the inner peace that comes with it. Some will receive their introduction to yoga through breathing exercises (pranayama) designed to reduce their stress and increase their experience of well being. Still others will read a book on yoga philosophy and find themselves moved to take up the practice. It really doesn’t matter where we start since Life itself will guide us when we are ready. Those who persist with yoga will eventually incorporate all eight limbs into their practice. Like fingerprints, the path of yoga is unique to each individual while at the same time resting on a common foundation of knowledge, principles and practice.

Let’s take a closer look at each of the eight limbs of raja yoga.

First limb: Ethical Precepts (yama)

Raja yoga inculcates five ethical obligations that are considered essential to our progress on the path of yoga. These five precepts are for the most part common to each of the world’s major religions. They are:

• Non-violence (ahimsa)
• Truthfulness
• Non-stealing
• Responsible sexuality
• Non-greediness

Since these ethical ideals comprise the first limb of yoga some teachers and seekers have interpreted this to mean that the student cannot advance to the next limb until he is close to ethical perfection. This is a mistake, since any man or woman who has fully mastered these precepts will have little need for the purifying processes of raga yoga. For such an individual, a period of direct contact with an enlightened guru or sage would be sufficient to Self-realise. Therefore we should not wait until we have mastered these five ethical principals before we take up the other seven limbs.

The various practises of each branch of yoga purify the body-mind of stress and negative conditioning, thereby automatically strengthening the positive traits in our character and weakening our harmful tendencies. As we become increasingly self-aware, we are able to check our negative tendencies before they manifest as destructive practises. Being more attuned to our true nature, we become increasingly reluctant to engage in activities which will hurt others or ourselves. However, understanding these five ethical precepts and having a clear intention to follow them is vitally important. Choosing to indulge in negative behaviour while practising yoga is both foolish and irresponsible. Assuming responsibility for our actions and for the effect our behaviour has on our environment is the fastest way to progress. Avoiding responsibility makes about as much sense as washing and polishing our car, then speeding through the nearest mud puddle.

Equally important is to not indulge in guilty feelings whenever we slip ethically. Guilt is a major obstacle on the path of Self-realisation. Whenever we fall – and we will fall – instead of sinking into thoughts and feelings of guilt, we have the choice to take responsibility for whatever damage we may have caused and make appropriate amends. Taking responsibility for our mistakes and correcting them is a sign of spiritual maturity. Cultivating this quality is the primary practice of this first limb of yoga.

Second limb: Observances (niyama)

Raja yoga urges us to develop certain positive traits as a support to our practice. They are called observances (niyama) and there are five of them:

• Purity (mental and physical)
• Contentment (in both pleasurable and painful circumstances)
• Simplicity (moderation in all things)
• Study (of scriptures and other sacred or inspired material)
• Devotion to the Supreme Being

These observances are pillars that support both our yoga practice and our daily life. They also are common to most of the great religious and spiritual traditions.

Third limb: Postures (asanas)

Yoga is a process of self-culture that deals with the whole person. Although the Self is not the body or in any sense limited to the body, yoga philosophy recognises that a weak, diseased body can be an obstacle to Self-realisation, especially on the path of raja yoga. At this point it should be emphasized that a healthy body is not a prerequisite to Self-realisation since the Self is absolutely independent of the body. Conversely, the body-mind is absolutely dependent upon the Self. Throughout the millennia seekers with serious physical handicaps and disabilities have attained the heights of self-knowledge. Attaining self-realisation is primarily a function of intention, inner purity and non-attachment, not physical or mental capacity.

Keeping the body healthy, clean and vital is the main object of the asanas. Yoga postures keep our muscles supple and our spine elastic, increase our lung capacity and strengthen our internal organs. They also develop our mental faculties and bestow the gift of longevity. Illness puts us into survival mode and may take up most of our attention, energy and financial resources. It also deals a blow to our self-confidence and reinforces our negative self-talk. Keeping our body in good working order frees up our creative intelligence for purposes other than physical survival and basic needs, important as these things are. It is also true, however, that illness or injury can mark the beginning of a profound inner transformation. This is what Shakespeare noted when he wrote his often quoted line, ‘Sweet are the uses of adversity’. Sometimes a serious illness or personal hardship will act as the trigger for relinquishing our ego and opening to something much greater. There is no hard rule when it comes to Self-realisation. It's a mistake to believe that only those with a healthy body and high intelligence can attain highest in themselves; such a belief will itself be an obstacle to our liberation.

Taking up yoga requires that we have a minimum amount of free time and free energy to invest in our practice. The good news is that even a little yoga will take us a long way toward greater health, vitality and inner calm. The key to success in yoga is not so much the amount of time we devote to it, but rather how consistent we are in our practice. Five minutes of pranayama combined with fifteen minutes of asanas practised daily will pay huge dividends.

The following six basic poses, combined with a simple breathing exercise and finishing with a few minutes of deep relaxation or meditation are easily learned and can be mastered by almost anyone, young or old. Some of the benefits of each pose are also listed.

A 20 minute yoga workout:

Alternate nostril breathing (pranayama) – 5 minutes
(strengthens heart and lungs, improves digestion, purifies the nervous system, conserves energy)

Shoulder stand (sarvangasana) – 2 minutes
(stretches neck and upper spine, improves thyroid and
parathyroid functioning, reduces mental fatigue)

Forward bend (paschimothanasana) – 2 minutes
(stretches entire back, strengthens abdominal organs, calms
nervous system, reduces fat)

Cobra (bhujangasana) – 2 minutes
(strengthens back muscles, reduces menstrual pain and irregularity,
relieves constipation)

Locust (salabhasana) – 2 minutes
(strengthens the abdomen, lower back and legs)

Hands to feet (pada hasthasana) – 2 minutes
(improves digestion, increases flow of blood to brain, trims waist,
stretches waist)

Triangle (trikonasana) – 2 minutes
(gives lateral stretch to spine, tones spinal nerves, improves
digestion)

Final relaxation (savasana) – 3 minutes
(replenishes energy, dissolves stress, lowers breath and pulse rates, relaxes entire system)

All of the above exercises can be easily learned in any beginner’s yoga class or from a good introductory yoga audio-visual. A proper introduction to these poses from a competent instructor is recommended to maximise benefits and avoid injury. The increased sense of well being which the asanas produce provides a good foundation for meditation. However, the asanas themselves, combined with pranayama produce a meditative state during the few minutes of final relaxation. Moreover, the benefits of this naturally induced inner repose carry over into the rest of our day. We are more calm, clear, centred and positive; our minds are tranquil, our bodies relaxed and our energies more focussed on the tasks at hand.

It is also important to note that yoga practice has tremendous therapeutic potential for those suffering from physical or mental disabilities or disease. Increasingly doctors and therapists are sending their patients to yoga classes as a support to the healing process. The combination of asanas and pranayama make a powerful contribution to our well being. It is not unusual for students to release suppressed emotions, especially during the period of final relaxation. Yoga instructors occasionally notice tears quietly flowing from closed eyes while students are resting on their backs during savasana (final relaxation). They are releasing pent-up emotional energy and will report feeling lighter, freer and happier as a result. Since many stress specialists consider that as much as 60 – 80% of all diseases are psychosomatic in origin, cleansing the emotional body clearly has a direct and positive effect on health.

Forth limb: Pranayama (yogic breathing)

Pranayama is also translated as ‘breath control’, but this term can be misleading. There are numerous techniques of yogic breathing and each method produces unique results. The common purpose of all forms of pranayama is to return the mind, at will, to its primordial and natural state of Silence. The legendary health benefits of pranayama are complementary to this primary objective. Controlling the breath entails regulating the breathing process in specific ways in order to both purify the nervous system and bring the mind to a state of equipoise. Yogic breathing brings us vigour, vitality and longevity and can play a major role in reducing or eradicating many types of illness.

The relationship between breath and mind is very intimate. When the breath becomes disturbed, so does the mind…and vice versa. Forms of pranayama, such as gentle, alternate nostril breathing, cause the breath to become slower, smoother and subtler. As breath quietens, so does the mind. If breathing becomes extremely slow and subtle the mind will become silent and thought-free. Regular practise of pranayama will accomplish this. Alternatively, quieting the mind directly through meditation will have the spontaneous effect of slowing the breath. As thought processes diminish the breath will become subtler, and if all thought stops during meditation then breathing will become too subtle to notice. To an observer, it will appear as if the meditator has stopped breathing entirely. In other words, the mind can attain its primordial, silent state either through pranayama or meditation. Raja yoga inculcates both pranayama and meditation (dhyana) as key practises on the path to Self-realisation.

For beginners, emphasis is placed on asanas and pranayama as a means to bring the nervous and respiratory systems into a healthier, more relaxed condition. On this basis the practise of meditation will then be smoother, easier and more profound. Combining asanas, pranayama and meditation creates a powerful methodology for improving health, dissolving stress and inducing a state of deep restful alertness. The primary function of the asanas and pranayama, however, is to support the process of meditation.

Fifth limb: Pratyahara (withdrawal)

Pratyahara is the first stage of meditation. Normally our attention is focussed on objects external to ourselves. From the moment we awaken until we fall asleep at night we are looking at, touching, etc., the items which make up our physical environment. We are also focussed to a large extent on our own bodies, how we look, what we wear, how we feel, etc. When the mind is functioning at a more subtle, non-physical level it is focussed on internal objects such as thoughts, desires, memories, imaginings and dreams.

Pratyahara is the conscious withdrawal of our attention from the external objects that our five senses perceive. Until this is accomplished we cannot make the inner journey. How do we withdraw our attention from external objects, which draw our minds like magnets? We accomplish this by refocusing our attention on an internal object such as the inflow and outflow of the breath or a mantra or the thought/feeling of ‘I am’ (Self-enquiry). Unless we refocus on an internal object it will be impossible to consciously withdraw attention from the objects of the senses. As soon as the attention is internalised through pratyahara both body and mind begin to ‘de-excite’ and a door opens to the next stage of meditation.

Sixth limb: Dharana (concentration)

Dharana means fixing the attention on an internal object and holding it there. This takes practice since the externalising tendency of the mind will constantly pull the attention back toward sense- objects. The pull of the senses is powerful for a couple of reasons. Firstly, we depend on our five senses for our survival. They protect us from danger and enable us to secure the basic necessities of life. Primal survival fears keep the mind focussed on sensory data. Secondly, the senses bring us immediate pleasure and comfort that can become habit-forming and addictive. These two factors set up a powerful outgoing tendency of the mind and inhibit introspection.

With dharana the meditator practises returning his attention to the object of meditation whenever he observes his mind wandering away onto other thoughts, memories or sensations. This is the principle of concentration. Concentration does not entail struggle or overpowering the mind. Fighting against the mind’s tendency to externalize by using force to hold it in one place is the primary reason why people stop meditating. Forcing the mind doesn’t work: it is exhausting and frustrating. Not only this, the more we resist the mind's wayward tendencies, the further we move away from the silent state we seek. This kind of mental self-struggle is a form of repression that simply invites frustration, psychic distortion and psychosomatically induced illnesses. Ahimsa (non-violence) is the guiding principle of yoga and this applies equally to our treatment of other life forms as well as our own minds and bodies. Concentration is not accomplished through forceful mind-control, but rather by consistently and gently bringing the mind back to the object of meditation whenever we become aware it has wandered.

This same principle applies to accomplishing our goals in life. Forcing ourselves to fixate on our goals to the exclusion of all else produces an unnatural, even fanatical attitude that creates stress both within ourselves and our environment. Concentrating upon a goal means simply bringing our attention back to it, consistently, easily and without force or violence, whenever we become aware that we have been distracted by other matters. With practice we become adept at focussing on our intentions in life while at the same time including whatever else is happening. For instance, when a businessman is so concentrated on building his business that he ignores the needs of his wife and children, he is headed for disaster. He may get his successful business, but it will be at the cost of his family and, with his divorce, probably his bank account. If, however, he is skilful, he will continually refocus on his business while simultaneously including both his family and all other matters with which he is personally involved. He will be one-pointed and relaxed simultaneously. This is dharana in action. Approaching life in this spirit may appear to be the long and winding road to accomplishing our dreams, but in reality it is the most efficient means since it avoids the stress and breakdowns that occur when we are too narrowly focussed. Mastery of the process of dharana leads naturally to the next stage of meditation.

Seventh limb: Dhyana (meditation)

Dharana, the practice of continually bringing our attention back to the object of meditation whenever we become aware that it has wandered, leads to a deeper absorption called dhyana. For example, if we are meditating with a mantra, we begin to notice that the internal sound of the mantra is becoming increasingly subtle while the process simultaneously becomes easier. In dhyana, we find our attention flowing continuously and effortlessly toward the mantra, similar to the unbroken movement of a river flowing downward to the ocean. This effortless and profound concentration is accompanied by an increasing awareness of space surrounding the mantra. In other words, along with the increasingly subtle concentration on the mantra is an unfolding awareness of awareness itself, awareness being the ‘space’ within which all experience arises. This state of dhyana is blissful since the tension that is inherent within the ‘subject (me) – object (mantra)’ relationship is giving way to a merging of the subject with its object. At the same time, there is a growing sense of the limitlessness of awareness and a palpable, oceanic feeling of boundlessness that is delightful. Whereas in dharana (concentration) there is the sense that the ego-self is the active agent which is constantly bringing the attention back to the mantra, in dhyana the apparent activity of the ego-self is taken over by a Power from deep within which pulls the attention inward. This Power has variously been called the Grace of God, or the infinite Self, or the Supreme Intelligence, etc. For the meditator, however, all sense of ‘doingness’ is effortlessly melting into a pervasive feeling of ‘beingness’ as the process of meditation continues to deepen. In the final stage of dhyana there is a profound and blissful peace permeating the body-mind, and only the slightest hint of separation between the subject (me) and object (mantra).

Eighth limb: Samadhi (absorption)

Dhyana ends with a complete merging of the 'I' with the mantra. When subject and object become one, both simply disappear and what is left is the revelation of a ‘transcendental’ or fourth state: an awareness of awareness itself or the objectless ‘I am that I am’.

The subject-object relationship of ego-self and mantra is a polarity in which the two poles are mutually dependent. Without an object there is no subject and without a subject there is no object. If one is removed, the other vanishes also. It is the active mind that sustains this subject-object relationship. When this relationship ends, the active mind becomes quiescent.

As the mind’s activity becomes increasingly quiet and subtle during meditation, the process becomes correspondingly intimate and easy with a diminishing sense of distance between subject and object. At the point where all mental activity ceases, both the ego-self and the mantra merge and vanish. In raja yoga this state is called samadhi (absorption) because the mind has become absorbed back into the Source from which it arose in the first place: Being-Consciousness. Technically, this state is called nirvikalpa (quality-less) samadhi. It cannot be described since no-thing is left to be observed. Since it is induced neither by drugs nor suggestion, this samadhi should not be considered a state of trance or hypnosis. Meditators who have entered samadhi – a fourth state of consciousness, distinct from waking, dreaming or sleeping – know that it is a natural state of full awareness and absolute inner silence. It is a condition of extraordinary alertness and at the same time ease.

When the meditator can enter the state of nirvikalpa samadhi effortlessly whenever moved to do so, then he or she has attained sahaja nirvikalpa samadhi, which means natural, effortless and continuous abidance in the Self, as the Self. The meditator has become 'established in Being', to quote Lord Krishna in the Bhagavad-Gita*. This is the state of Self-realisation or liberation (moksha), the supreme attainment of yoga.

* Yogastah kuru karmani: 'Established in Being, perform action.'
Bhagavad-Gita, ch.2, verse 48

Self-enquiry – ‘Who am I?’

‘Siva is the Being assuming all forms and the Consciousness seeing them. That is to say, Siva is the background underlying both the subject and the object. Everything has its being in Siva and because of Siva.’
Sri Ramana Maharshi (1879 - 1950)

Self-enquiry (atma-vichara) has been called the Maha (Great) Yoga because it is a direct path to Self-realisation. Self-enquiry deals head on with the most fundamental philosophical and personal question we can raise: ‘Who am I?’ The practice of Self-enquiry is very ancient and traditionally has been considered suitable only for those who have renounced everything in their one-pointed search for truth. In more recent times, Ramana Maharshi has revitalised this timeless path, making it accessible to all seekers, even those with busy lives and crammed agendas.

This method can be practised in a formal way by setting aside a certain period of time each day (for example, 20 minutes upon arising and 20 minutes before retiring) or it can be practised informally for a few minutes here and there as the opportunity or motivation presents itself. As we progress on this path, Self-enquiry becomes an automatic process that continues unbroken throughout the day. It can be done while working or speaking, without reducing our ability to function efficiently. For beginners, however, a set period of time set aside each day is recommended until the practice is firmly established.

In order to experience anything – a tree, another human being, a desire, an emotion or a physical sensation – there first must be someone who is experiencing. Before we can know an ‘it’, ‘he’ or ‘they’, the ‘I’ must already be established. During deep sleep there is no sense of ‘I’, nor is there any awareness of objects, whether subtle or gross. When we enter the dreaming state, the sense of ‘I’ reappears, as do all of the characters and objects of the dream experience. In other words, the second and third persons (‘you’, ‘he’, ‘it’, 'they') cannot exist in the absence of the first person singular (‘I’). The sense of ‘I am’ is the only stable aspect of experience, since the objects of experience themselves are continually changing. People, places and things come and go in our lives, but we remain. Our own bodies will change, sometimes drastically, but the ‘I am’ associated with our body will remain firm. This ‘I am’ is the only subject, whereas all else are objects. Even God is an object to the subject, ‘I am’.

Now the strange thing about human beings is our curiosity about nearly everything except ourselves. We devote our lives to understanding the world, God, the cosmos, atomic and subatomic realms etc. but very few of us make a serious effort at self-understanding. We ask endless questions about the nature of things, but we never question the questioner. Who is this questioner who wants to understand God and the universe? If we are ignorant about ourselves, then how can we be sure of our knowledge of anything else? Unless we know the subject, how can we claim to know the object? The German physicist, Werner Heisenberg, established that the act of observation or measurement affects the phenomenon being observed or measured. He wrote, ‘What we observe is not nature in itself but nature exposed to our method of questioning.’ With this insight he formulated his famous ‘indeterminacy principle’ which demolished the cherished notion of the scientist as a detached, objective observer. If the world we see is basically a creation of our own way of thinking, asking and perceiving, doesn’t it make more sense to first know the thinker, questioner and perceiver? Instead, what we do is assume that what we perceive is the world as it actually is and then proceed to act on that assumption. As history reveals, this often leads to horrendous results. The philosopher, Bertrand Russell, humorously illustrates this with a barnyard story. Each morning at sunrise a flock of chickens would run excitedly toward the friendly farmer who appeared with a bucket of chicken feed. This went on for many months. They were happy to feel so taken care of and well fed, and would look forward to the farmer’s next visit. Then one sunrise he arrived as expected and they all ran to greet him as usual, but this time instead of carrying a bucket of feed he was carrying an axe. And the rest, as they say, is history.

Ramana Maharshi lived through the difficult period of the two world wars and the great depression. Westerners regularly came to visit him and many felt burdened with the cares of the world. They would ask him, ‘How can we end war and bring about world peace?’ ‘How can we feed and uplift the hungry, depressed masses?’ ‘What is the future of the human race?’, etc. Sri Ramana’s reply was always the same. ‘Why do you worry about world peace when you have not yet found peace within yourself ? Why do you want to know about the future when you do not yet know the questioner in the present? First know whom it is that is asking the question and then see if the question is still there.’ Although Sri Ramana was mostly silent during his lifetime, whenever visitors would ask him sincere questions about the nature of the Self and their personal challenges he would answer. Those, however, who asked questions out of mere curiosity or from a misplaced sense of responsibility, questions such as, ‘What can we do to save the world?’, would invariably be met with silence. Some found the sage’s reticence too uncomfortable and would leave, but many stayed and used the intense, pervading Silence they felt in his proximity to look within and would experience an inner revolution that transformed their lives.

In the method of Self-enquiry, the enquirer is asked to seek the source of the ‘I-thought’. This ‘I-thought’ is synonymous with the ego and is not the Self, who is pure Consciousness transcending all form and substance. Nevertheless, the ‘I-thought’ arises from the Self and has its being in the Self. In the absence of the Self there can be no ‘I-thought’, since all thoughts require the light of consciousness in order to appear. The Self is itself Consciousness, as well as the source of our empirical consciousness -- i.e., our consciousness of things. In fact, all phenomena, from atoms to galaxies, appear by virtue of the borrowed light of the intelligent Self.

The ‘I-thought’ always takes the form of a limiting identification, which is invariably the ‘I-am-the-body’ idea. The ‘I-am-the-body’ idea is not false but neither is it true, and this is the cause of our worries, fears and tensions. It is also the root cause of our aggression in all of its ugly forms. For certain the body is the vehicle through which the Self finds expression in this realm of existence. In this sense, the ‘I-am-the-body’ idea is correct. However, it is false when the Self is considered to be limited to, or in any way dependent upon, the body. For one thing, the body is mortal, whereas the Self is immortal and untouched by the creation and dissolution of the organism; furthermore, the laws of time and space condition and determine the destiny of the body, whereas the Self stands aloof from these limiting factors. In other the words, the body is inescapably mortal and bound, whereas the Self is inherently immortal and free. Self-realisation simply entails awakening to the reality that who we are is the all-inclusive Self and not merely the physical body or some subtle etheric substance inhabiting the body.

This awakening to the Self is not something conceptual. It comes with a letting go of our limited and erroneous notions of what we are and a complete surrender of our egoistic tendencies. Such a transformation is a complete internal revolution, which touches every fiber of our being; it cannot be obtained by reading books, although books can be useful allies on the path. It also cannot be attained by changing the external circumstances of our life. Abandoning our families or quitting our jobs to lead a monastic life is unnecessary, because the real work is entirely internal. The philosophy underpinning the process of Self-enquiry says, ‘You are already the Self, all you need do is let go of the idea that you are something other.’ By tracing the ‘I-thought’, which is a limited sense of self, back to its Source we realise the truth of our Being. This does not require changing our religion, lifestyle or dropping our duties. It does mean a consistent and committed inner quest to abandon our false ideas and beliefs about our true nature. It is work that no one can do for us. There is no higher Power that can save us, for in reality we are that very higher Power we seek and as such are fully capable of our own salvation.

There are a couple of ways of practising the Self-enquiry. One way is to dwell on the sense of ‘I am’ constantly. Nisargadatta Maharaj, a younger contemporary of Ramana Maharshi, taught this method. Aham-bhava is the Sanskrit term for the sense or feeling of ‘I am’. This feeling of ‘I am’ is subtler than thoughts, emotions or body awareness. Aham-bhava is subtle like space and with practice the conscious mind can become aware of it. The feeling of aham-bhava is always there, but because the mind is habitually focussed on external sensations, objects and mental projections, such as thoughts, memories and desires, we are unaware of it. By turning the attention inward – away from sense objects, desires, emotions and even thoughts – we become aware of this subtle feeling of our own existence, the ‘I am’.

Ramana Maharshi encouraged seekers to turn their attention inward by actually looking for the ‘I-thought’ and seeing if they could find it. By actively looking for the ‘I-thought’ the attention is automatically withdrawn from sense objects, desires, etc. and directed inward. The mind, however, will not be able to find the ‘I-thought’, which is like a fleeting shadow that disappears the moment the light of awareness is focussed on it. In this single movement of the mind toward the ‘I-thought’, both the external world and the ‘I-thought’ itself will vanish, allowing the pure Self to flash forth as an intense, silent Awareness free of thought and all other phenomena.

Generally, Sri Ramana recommended the following method, which can be practised either sitting quietly or while involved in normal activities. Start by observing the mind and its contents. Whatever is momentarily present in consciousness, whether a thought, emotion or desire, etc., silently ask the following question:

‘For whom is this thought (emotion, etc)?’

The natural, unspoken response will be:

‘For me’.

Then ask silently:

‘Who am I?’

At this point, either search for the ‘I-thought’, as previously suggested, or put the attention directly onto the feeling of ‘I am' (aham-bhava). In either case, the mind will momentarily merge into the Source from which it originally arose, i.e., the Self. With practice, this merging will lengthen and returning the mind to its Source will become increasingly easy and natural. It should be noted that the question, ‘Who am I?’ does not call for an intellectual response. The Self-enquiry is not an intellectual process; rather it is a seeking for the very Source of the intellect itself. Self-enquiry is not analysis; it is a surrendering of the intellect to the Self and a merging of the mind into the Heart.

For those who found the direct method of Self-enquiry too challenging, Sri Ramana would sometimes suggest alternatives, such as meditating with a mantra. Accordingly, he offered the following approach. In his own words:

"Among the many names of God, no name suits God, who abides in the Heart, devoid of thought, so truly, aptly, and beautifully as the name ‘I’ or ‘I am’ (aham). Of all the known names of God, the name of God, ‘aham – aham’, alone will resound triumphantly when the ego is destroyed, rising as the silent supreme Word (mouna-para-vak) in the Heart-space of those whose attention is Selfward-facing. Even if one unceasingly meditates upon that name, ‘I – I’, with one’s attention on the feeling ‘I am’ (aham), it will take one and plunge it into the source from which the thought arises, destroying the ego…"

Self-enquiry weakens and destroys the samskaras (impressions) which form the basis of our patterns (vasanas) and negative conditioning. On this path of Self-knowledge (jnana) the direct intuition of the Self is a liberating insight, which like fire burns the seeds of our samskaras and destroys their capacity to germinate as patterns. The method of Self-enquiry is a simple yet potent weapon, along with the breath and other practices of yoga, for overcoming our patterns and negative self-concept, strengthening our self-esteem and personal power and, ultimately, bringing us to full Awakening in the Self.