Om Sri Gurubhyo Namah. Salutations to all the teachers.
Welcome back! Last week, we discussed the 5 Bhumis, or states of mind as a way to measure your progress, find practices appropriate for you, and make a habit of objectifying the mind rather than identifying with it.
This week, we will go over a framework to categorise the types of specific mental activities in our inner experience. Like with the other frameworks, the goal is to bring clarity to our experience and thinking. By the end of this article, you will know how to classify your thoughts so that it feels manageable, rather than like a tangled web of inner happenings. Additionally, this framework helps us to reframe the way we experience thoughts - rather than “I am thinking this” it becomes “this type of vritti is appearing in the mind.”
As mentioned in the previous article, Patanjali defines Yoga as:
योगश्र्चित्तवृत्तिनिरोधः॥
Yogaschittavrittinirodhah
Yoga (is the) mastery of the vrittis in the chitta
- Yoga Sutras 1.2
We already discussed the chitta a few weeks ago, understanding it to mean the antahakarana, or internal instrument. In Yogic psychology, this includes the following functions:
Karmendriyas: Organs of action
Buddhendriyas: Organs of perception
Manas: The Lower Mind
Ahamkaar: The “I”-maker
Buddhi: Intellect
For the purposes of this article, when the term “mind” is used, this antahakarana is what is being referred to.
Imagine your antahakarana (aka mind) as a lake. When a rock hits the lake, it creates ripples that emanate out from the point of contact. Similarly, when a perception contacts the mind via the sense organs, a ripple occurs, and this is what you perceive. This ripple is an example of what is called a “vritti.” The word “vritti” literally means “whirlpool”, and is commonly translated as “mental modification.” Like a whirlpool, these mental modifications have effects beyond their central point. For example, if I see an advertisement for a brand of coffee, I’m more likely to buy that coffee at the store than another brand. My perception at the time of seeing the ad influenced my decision to purchase that same brand at a later point in time.
Biases also work this way - if I were raised in a particular way, the biases that I was raised with will influence not only my actions, but also my perceptions later in life. Vrittis have effects far beyond the initial point at which they begin.
In Yoga, there are 5 Vrittis, and they can be coloured or uncoloured (more on the colourings next time). All of our mental experiences can be categorised into one or more of these categories. They are:
Pramaana: Right knowledge or evidence
Viparyay: Wrong knowledge or illusion
Vikalp: Imagination
Nidra: Deep sleep
Smriti: Memory
Pramaana: Right knowledge/Evidence
The word Pramaana (pronounced pruh-maah-nuh) means “epistemological tool” or “evidence”, and is derived from the prefix pra, which means “outward”, and ma which means “to measure.”
In Yoga, there are 3 Pramaanas:
Pratyaksh: Sense experience
Anumaan: Inference
Aagama: Trusted Testimony
प्रत्यक्षानुमानागमाः प्रमाणानि॥
PratyakshAnumaanAgamaah Pramaanaani
Direct perception, inference, and trusted testimony are evidence.
- Yoga Sutras, 1.8
Pratyaksh means direct experience by way of the 5 Buddhendriyas (organs of perception). For example, if I see that the sun is out, it is evidence that the sun is out. Similarly, if I smell roses, it is evidence of the smell of roses (note: the smell of roses is not directly evidence of the presence of roses, just of the fact that there is a smell of roses).
Anumaan means inference. Specifically, it means that when there is vyaapti (invariable concomitance), we can can use one of the invariably concomitant factors to infer the presence of the other. This may sound complicated, but we do this every day without even thinking about it. The classical example is when someone sees smoke on a hill, they infer that there is fire on the hill, without having to directly see the fire itself. Note, this is only true if smoke always exists with fire, and if fire only exists with smoke.
Another example is when you see condensation on the outside of a water bottle, you know that it is cold without having to touch it. Or when you see the redness of a stove, you know that it is hot just by looking at it, without having to directly perceive its heat. In all these cases you know something without directly perceiving it, but rather by perceiving something else related to it.
Finally, we have Aagama. The word Aagama literally means “that which has come”, and in this context means trusted testimony. In other schools of Indian philosophy, it is also referred to as shruti (that which has been heard).
Have you ever believed something a friend told you, even without having seen it for yourself? This is Aagama. Your friend may have said that they went out for dinner. You now have this knowledge-vritti in your mind, even though you did not actually see them at the restaurant. We use this type of Pramaan all the time! For example, let us assume you have never been to the island of Tuvalu. Perhaps you had heard about it. If not, perhaps you clicked this link and saw the Wikipedia page. Now you know it exists. Let us now ask the question, which Pramaana did you use to gain this knowledge?
You did not directly perceive the island of Tuvalu, having never been there yourself. Neither did you infer its existence. Rather, you trusted that Wikipedia was telling you the truth, and so you came to have the knowledge of Tuvalu in your mind.
This Pramaan is particularly interesting because what you consider to be trusted testimony can easily be different from what other people trust. For example, one person may read the news on BBC, while another reads Breitbart. One person may watch NDTV while another listens to Arnab Goswami. One person may trust research papers, while others trust YouTube conspiracy theorists. Even though the sources may directly conflict in terms of the information they are providing, one person trusts one, while the other person does not. Additionally, while they may disagree on what is “true”, they both have knowledge, ie. an Aagama-Pramaana-Vritti in their mind.
Notice, Pratyaksh (direct perception) is the basis for all other Pramaanas. In order to infer (Anumaan) that the stove is hot, even though you don’t directly perceive its heat by touching it, you perceive the redness of the stove directly using Pratyaksh.
Similarly with Aagama - you may not directly perceive the protest on the news, but you directly perceive the voice of the news anchor that speaks about it.
Understanding how Pramaana works helps us to clarify our thinking about whether something is true or not. This is especially relevant in today’s day and age with misinformation all around us.
Interestingly enough, the various schools of Indian philosophy differ primarily in terms of which Pramaanas are accepted as valid epistemological tools (a fancy way to say “tools we use to know things”). For example, while the Charvaakas (ancient Indian materialists) believe only in direct perception as a valid means of knowledge, (most) Buddhists agree on both direct perception and inference. Meanwhile, the Vedanta schools hold 6 different types of Pramaanas as valid means of knowledge.
Even in today’s day and age we have the Flat-Earthers who believe only in direct perception, and scientists who believe in perception, inference, and trusted testimony (peer reviewed research).
Peer reviewed research is particularly interesting because it provides a systematic method of pooling together trusted testimony from a large number of verified sources, so as to make the testimony verifiable. Texts like Sutra literature (including the Yoga Sutras) fall into a similar category, since they can be verified by personal experience if one wishes to put in the time and effort.
Finally, for those of you interested in technology, verification of trusted testimony (or removing the need for trust altogether) is a tremendous area of interest and opportunity in the blockchain space!
Viparyay: Wrong knowledge/Illusion
विपर्ययो मिथ्याज्ञानम् अतद्रूपप्रतिष्ठम् ॥
Viparyayo Mithyagyaanam AtadRoopaPratishttham
Misapprehension is false knowledge not established (in reality).
- Yoga Sutras 1.8
Imagine walking home one evening in the darkness, and on the road, by your feet, you see a snake. A perception has occurred in the mind - specifically a Pratyakasha-Pramaaana-Vritti. You feel fear, and perhaps even act by jumping out of the way. You then look a little closer, maybe shine a light on it, and notice that it wasn’t a snake, but really just a rope. This is an example of a Viparyay-Vritti.
Viparyay (pronounced vi-puhr-yuhy) is erroneous knowledge. Specifically, it is any knowledge which corresponds to an illusory reality - where a perception turns out to be something other than what it actually is.
Classical examples of this category include mirages (where you think it was water but actually it was just hot sand), a man in the distance in the semi darkness where you find out it was a tree stump, and seeing seashells on the beach shining in the sunlight, thinking it to be silver.
Optical illusions of all sorts fall into this category, but so do auditory illusions (e.g. beer can vs. bacon), illusions of taste (e.g. the taste of water after eating Szechwan food), tactile illusions (e.g. phantom buzz, phantom limb), and so on.
Have you ever met a person and thought they were one way, only to realise after getting to know them that they were not that way at all? For example, someone at work might come off as angry or irritated all the time, but when you get to know them you realise that they are having a hard time at home, or are facing a lot of other pressures.
Another example is social media - when you see someone’s Instagram feed and see an apparently perfect life, not realising that their photographs are perfectly curated to ignore the more mundane aspects or any suffering they may be going through.
In these scenarios, the “false” knowledge that we gain upon first glance is example of a viparyay-vritti.
Noticing Viparyays in your day to day life allows you to see through your own judgements and misperceptions. Ultimately, even the very idea that you are this body-mind complex is a Viparyay, albeit a hard one to see as such.
Vikalpa: Imagination
Imagine an elephant with a blue trunk and a yellow body wearing a polkadot skirt.
This image in your mind is a vikalpa.
शब्दज्ञानानुपाति वस्तुशून्यो विकल्पः॥
ShabdGyaanAnupaati VastuShoonyo Vikalpah
Imagination follows from words with no corresponding reality.
- Yoga Sutras 1.9
Vikalpa (pronounced vi-culp) is any knowledge that does not have a corresponding object. Thoughts about the future or ruminations around what you could have, should have, or would have done in the past are all examples of vikalpa.
In the last two types of vrittis - Pramaana and Viparyay - there is an object that corresponds to the vritti in the mind. What’s different here is that there is no immediately perceptible object - the mind is simply spinning up words or images. The classical example is “the horns of a hare.” Hares don’t have horns, but it is something that we can imagine.
To make this more clear, when we perceive an object, three things are intermingled into one - shabda, artha, and gyaan - word, meaning, and idea. Take the (classical) example of a cow. The word is the sound “cow”, the meaning is the specific cow you are pointing out, and the idea is the generic characteristics that allow you to categorize the object into the class “cow.” With vikalpa, the sound “cow” or the idea of a cow may exist in the mind, but there is no specific cow that is being referred to.
Vikalpa is one of the most common categories of our daily mental activity - our judgements, ideas, desires, dreams, labels, conventions, stories, and even the voice in your head all fall into this category. Not only this, but what we call “the future” is just a series of vikalpa-vrittis that we are experiencing Now. There is no “future” - just a particular type of imagination that we have collectively agreed to take seriously.
Vikalpa is an extremely useful category of vritti in that we can use it for any creative pursuit. However, like anything, it has another side to it - too much indulgence in vikalpa can lead to excessive rumination about the past or the future, and lead to great anxiety, fear, or sadness.
In Advaita Vedanta, ultimately, this entire phenomenal Universe is nothing but vikalpa. This is different from subjective idealism (that it’s all in the mind), but more on this later.
Just like any other vritti, vikalpas stem from existing impressions, and leave impressions on the mind. This has a huge implication - there is no such thing as a truly original idea, only vikalpas which are combinations of existing impressions.
Nidra: Deep Sleep
Nidra (pronounced nih-draah) here specifically refers to deep sleep, ie. dreamless sleep. The experience is just a blankness with no knowledge of the fact that you are sleeping, or of any objects whatsoever. This is classified as a vritti in itself since it is, after all, an activity of mind, and just like the other vrittis, leaves an impression - specifically, one of restfulness and relaxation.
Normally, any vritti has some object as its support. For example, the Pratyaksha-Pramaana-Vritti (ie. direct perception-evidence-vritti) of these pixels on the screen are supported by the pixels themselves. In this scenario, the pixels are called an aalambanaa, or support for the mind. Deep sleep, or Nidra, is unique in that unlike all the other categories of vritti, it does not have any object to support it. In fact, it is this very characteristic that Patanjali uses to define it.
अभावप्रत्ययालम्बना वृत्तिनिद्रा ॥
AbhaavPratyayAalambana VrittiNidra
The vritti of sleep is [when there is] absence of a support (ie. aalambanaa).
- Yoga Sutras 1.10
Another way to look at this is that sleep is in itself an object for awareness to rest on, insofar as voidness or blankness can be considered an object.
The topic of deep sleep is a major point of discussion in Vedanta, and features particularly prominently in the Mandukya Upanishad and Karika. For now though, we will consider it just as a type of movement in the mind.
Smriti: Memory
अनुभूतविषयासंप्रमोषः स्मृतिः ॥
AnubhootVishayaAsampramoshah Smritih
Memory is the retention of images of objects [of experience] that have [already] been experienced
- Yoga Sutras, 1.11
Smriti (pronounced Smrih-tee), or memory, is when an impression caused by any of the other four types of vrittis makes a comeback. The impressions in this form are weaker in terms of intensity than the original vritti. For example, I ate a pizza yesterday. Today, I am sitting at my laptop, typing this, and the impressions that the pizza left on my mind have returned. The taste of the pizza is not nearly as visceral, but I can experience having experienced it previously.
What we call “the past” is actually just a series of smriti-vrittis (aka memories) experienced now. There is no actual, tangible “past” aside from these movements in the mind. In fact, even what we consider to be “change” or “movement” is a combination of smriti-vrittis with pramaana-vrittis. There is no real “change” in the now, since in order to have change you need multiple moments - but there is really only one. To make this more clear, take a look at this moving spiral for at least twenty seconds, and then look at the still image below.
In this example, the movement of the spiral is transposed onto the still image below, making it seem like the image is moving. In terms of vrittis, the smriti-vritti of the movement of the spiral plus the pratyaksha-pramaana-vritti (direct perception-evidence-vritti) of the image together created the image of a moving image in your mind. This is how we perceive movement, when actually, in the eternal Now, there is none.
All vrittis leave impressions on the mind, including memory itself (e.g. you can remember having remembered something). You can remember your perceptions, of course, but you can also remember illusions, imaginations, and even deep sleep. The more frequently that vritti appears (and the more coloured it is, but more on this next time), the deeper the impression will be, and so the more likely the memory is to arise in the mind. The classical example is that of a farmer putting water onto the soil - the more frequently water is put in a certain area, the deeper the channels will become. Additionally, the next time water is poured onto the soil, it is far more likely to follow an existing channel than create a new one.
This analogy can be stretched further. As a channel of water runs between two points, Smriti functions through association. As a result, what we may perceive to be memories are often mixed in with, or arise alongside other vrittis such as imagination or perceptions. This is important to note so that we don’t take our memories too seriously as they appear. Additionally, because memory works this way, we can also “hack” the system, so to speak, to help us remember things better. Associating a memory with another memory makes it easier to recall it later on. For example, if you’re trying to remember someone’s name, associate it with something else - if you meet someone named Ram, associate it with the Ram in the Ramayana, or if you meet someone named John, you can associate them with John the Baptist. This way, you are more likely to recall their name later on. This doesn’t only work for names, but for anything at all - the association doesn’t even need to be related to the thing you’re trying to remember!
Combinations
Consider a simple example - how might we classify “regret” using this framework? For the sake of discussion, let us consider that you regret having made the decision to move to a new city.
In this scenario, there is a perception (pramaana-vritti) of the current state of affairs in your life, combined with a memory (smriti-vritti) of the time you made the decision, as well as with an imagination (vikalp-vritti) of how it could have been different.
To break it down further, the perception and memory are coloured by aversion, and the imagination is coloured by attraction. These colourings are called kleshas, and we will discuss these in more detail next week.
In this way, every mental occurrence can be broken down into their basic building blocks to provide more clarity into what’s going on in your mind.
This is Yoga.
The very definition of Yoga is the mastery of these vrittis.
योगश्र्चित्तवृत्तिनिरोधः॥
Yogaschittavrittinirodhah
Yoga (is the) mastery of the vrittis in the chitta.
- Yoga Sutras, 1.2
Knowing what they and being able to identify them is therefore extremely important for the Yogi. The reason we don’t experience the true nature of the Self is that we get identified with these vrittis, and mistake them for who we are. Using this framework, we can start to re-frame our thoughts - rather than “I think this” to “This vritti appears.”
Each vritti creates a samskaara (impression) in the mind, and samskaaras in turn generate more vrittis just as seeds sprout into weeds and flowers. This cycle of vrittis and samskaaras (called the vritti-samskaara-chakram) is Karma, and so the goal of Yoga is to disentangle ourselves from the infinite cycle of Karma by way of de-identifying with the vrittis.
Being able to objectify the vrittis in this way helps to create a distance, and in this way disentangle ourselves from the mess we find ourselves in.
Until next time, try using this framework to categorise your mental activity in seated meditation or throughout your day, and notice how your mind feels once you create (or rather, notice) that distance.
Next week: Mental colourings: The 5 Kleshas
>Vikalpa is one of the most common categories of our daily mental activity - our judgements, ideas, desires, dreams, labels, conventions, stories, and even the voice in your head all fall into this category.
I found this to be super helpful!