Phantom Consciousness
Asmitaa Samaadhi: Samaadhi on the aspect of individuation in the sattva aspect of the buddhi
“Do not believe in anything simply because you have heard it.
Do not believe in anything simply because it is spoken and rumoured by many.
Do not believe in anything simply because it is found written in your religious books.
Do not believe in anything merely on the authority of your teachers and elders.
Do not believe in traditions because they have been handed down for many generations.
But after observation and analysis, when you find that anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, then accept it and live up to it.”
- Gautama Buddha
Om Sri Gurubhyo Namah. Salutations to all the teachers.
What is Consciousness?
In English, the word “consciousness” is often used to refer to the stream of thoughts, the various bubbling emotions, stored and perceived memories, and awareness of these mental happenings. This is not sufficiently precise.1
In Yoga, Vedanta (and other schools of Indian philosophy), the definition is clear:
अनिदम् चिदात्मा॥
Anidam ChidaAtmaa
Consciousness is [defined as] “not this.”
- Mandana Misra, Brahmasiddhi
P: Huh?
This is called a via negativa definition - defining something by stating what it is not.
Let us consider what this means.
Look around you.
You can see, hear, taste, smell, taste, and touch objects that appear to be outside the boundary of the skin. For each of these objects, you can point to it and say “this.” As a result, you know that they are different from you.
The knower is different from the known.
If they were identical, you would look at your cup of coffee and get confused, saying “this is me.”
But you don’t.
You know that what you see is different from you - without this distinction, there could be no knowledge.
Let’s move one level deeper - look at your hands, feet, your legs, your arms, your torso.
The body is clearly an object of experience. We can see it, touch it, and sometimes, unfortunately, smell it as well. The senses perceive the body as an object in your experience. Since it is an object, it is different from you. It may be persistent in your waking experience, but, from the perspective of your Awareness, it disappears during dreams and deep sleep. It is there sometimes, and sometimes not there, and its presence and absence is within your experience. It changes continuously, and this change is within your experience. It feels more “outward”, in comparison to the feeling of “me”, which feels more inward. These differences make it clear that the body is different from you.
One level further, notice the breath.
It moves in, and out. You can perceive it, and so it is an object. This is also true for your digestion, circulation, and so on. Try to remember a time that you were hungry and could hear and feel your stomach rumbling, or a time that you were too full and could feel the fullness.
These life processes are objects in your experience.
One level in, let us notice the mind.
Thoughts come and go, emotions, memories, and thought patterns of all kinds rise, fall, and mix together like waves in a pond. You are the witness to the thoughts in your mind, and sometimes, if you are lucky, to the absence of thoughts in the mind. The mind, the thought streams, the emotions, the memories, and so on, are all objects in your experience. It feels like you are watching them from further inside. The mind and its movements, therefore, are distinct from you.
Since these - external objects, the body, the life processes, and the mind - are all objects in your experience, none of them are You. They come and go, and you seem to remain.
If they were you, when they disappeared, you would go with them. But you don’t. You stay right where you are, and you are never not there.
P: But what about in deep sleep? It’s just a complete blankness? Or what about when I am under anesthesia?
Imagine a pot of water under a full moon.
If you look closely, you will see a reflection of the moon in the water. When the water moves, the reflection moves, making it look like the moon is moving. When the water is dirty, it appears as though the moon is dirty. When the pot is emptied of water, it looks as though the moon has disappeared.
This is an ancient analogy for our situation. It appears as though our minds are conscious. When we get sleepy, it appears as though the consciousness is waning, when we are energized, it appears as though the consciousness is shining brightly. Its brightness changes throughout the day - sometimes it feels agitated and other times it feels calm. However, Consciousness - the light of Awareness - is not shifting in itself. This is the reflection of Consciousness in the mind, like the reflection of the moon in water.
When there is no water in the pot, the moon does not disappear.
P: This sounds nice, but how do we know that its a reflection of Awareness, and not Awareness itself dimming and shining?
Jogi: How do you know that your awareness is dimming or shining? Who sees that?
This reflected consciousness, in Vedanta, is known as Chidaabhaasa (चिदाभास) - chit (चित्, Pure Consciousness) + aabhaas (आभास, reflection or phantom).
The reflection becomes dim or bright depending on the state of mind - the reflector. However, You are the one who perceives the dimming or brightening of the reflection. We can notice this in our daily lives when we feel mentally sharp after a good night’s rest, or “not all there” at the end of a long day.
From a technical standpoint, the Pure Consciousness (known in Yoga as the Purusha) reflects in sattva. This is like the moon forms an image when it reflects in water, but does not form an image when it reflects off the grass, the mud, or a tree. Just like certain types of matter are more reflective than others, sattva is more reflective than rajas or tamas.
The part of the mind which is the most reflective is the sattvic aspect of the buddhi - the intellect.
For those who have had some experience with meditation, one common instruction is to “witness the thoughts as they rise and fall in the mind.”
Initially, we are taught that we are different from our thoughts, and we can find this out through this practice of witnessing the thoughts rising and falling. This is true, and it is an excellent practice. However, it is not the whole truth.
“There was a young man who said though,
It seems that I know that I know,
What I would like to see,
Is the I that knows me,
When I know that I know that I know.”
- Alan Watts
If we dig deeper, we find that even the witness to the thoughts is in itself an object to Awareness. If we fine-tune our power of attention, we can see this clearly for ourselves. This apparent witness is the chidaabhaasa - the reflection of the Purusha in the sattvic aspect of the buddhi. This reflection is the object of meditation in this final stage of Samprajnaata Samaadhi (Samaadhi with support), known as Asmitaa Samaadhi.
Consecutive Stages
Over the past several weeks we have been discussing the consecutive stages of Samaadhi - the eighth and final limb of the eight-limbed (Ashtaanga) Yoga. Unlike the earlier limbs, Samaadhi is not something you do, but rather something that happens to you as mediation deepens. The only thing the Yogi can do is to cultivate a fertile ground for Samaadhi to occur through the twin foundations of abhyaas and vairaagya - practice and letting go - through the first six limbs of Yoga.
The entire process of Yoga is a relentless inward march towards the Self. The goal is to uncover the Self, and in doing so release ourselves from all suffering. However, it is not an all-or-nothing situation - even a little bit of effort goes a long way.
नेहाभिक्रमनाशोऽस्ति प्रत्यवायो न विद्यते
।
स्वल्पमप्यस्य धर्मस्य त्रायते महतो भयात्॥
NaIhaAbhikramaNaashoAsti pratyavaayo na vidyate
SvalpamApiAsya dharmasya traayate mahato bhayaat
In this systematic effort [of Yoga], there is no loss, nor any negative effect.
Even a little bit of effort protects [the Yogi] from great fear.
- Bhagavad Gita, 2.40
Once we get to Samaadhi, attention moves through increasingly more subtle states of mind. Broadly speaking, Samaadhi can be split into two categories - Samaadhi with something to support the attention (known as samprajnaata samaadhi), and Samaadhi without support (known as asamprajnaata samaadhi).
Samprajnaata Samaadhi can be further split into three categories, based on the level of subtlety of the object of support.
In the first category, external objects are the support for awareness. This category is split into two - Vitarka Samaadhi and Vichaar Samaadhi.
In Vitarka Samaadhi, the objects themselves are used.
This could be the breath, a mantra, a flame, the chakras, a rock, an image of your favourite deity, a cupcake - anything at all. This is like the doorway to Samaadhi - when the object shines in its own right, independent of name and categorization.
Next is Vichaar Samaadhi, where the subtle constituents of the same object are used as a support.
For example, if the object is the breath, then texture and sound, the two underlying tanmaatraas, or subtle elements, become the support for awareness.
Vitark is compared to when a bee follows the scent of nectar to a lotus, and Vichaar is when the bee sits upon the flower and walks along its petals. Another analogy - when you are washing a dirty dish, one hand holds on to the dish, and the other hand scrubs it with a sponge. The hand holding on to the dish is Vitark, and the hand that scrubs it is Vichaar. A final traditional analogy here - when a potter makes a pot, they use one hand to hold down the clay, and another hand to shape it into a pot. The hand that holds down the clay is Vitarka, and the hand that shapes it is Vichaar.
These analogies and descriptions, as with all descriptions of Samaadhi, are more like a map than a true description. The goal is to allow the mind to recognize the state when it arises, rather than as a set of instructions.
After Vitark and Vichaar, awareness moves from being supported by the objects of knowledge - the graahya - to being supported by the instruments of knowledge - the grahana.
This state has only one category of Samaadhi within it, known as Aananda, or the Bliss Samaadhi, discussed at length last week.
Briefly, the instruments of knowledge are the powers of sense (ie. the power of hearing, the power of touch, the power of sight, etc.), and the antahakarana (the “internal instrument”, aka the mind).
Technically speaking, one cannot actually “know” the instruments of knowledge in the same way that one can “know” an object. This is because all knowledge requires three entities - the object of knowledge, the instrument of knowledge, and the knower.
Therefore, since knowledge can only happen through an instrument of knowledge, one cannot actually know the instrument of knowledge in itself. However, we find that we can become aware of them. For example, you know when your eyesight is blurry or sharp, you know when your eyes are open or closed, you know when you can see or not see.
Ask yourself this question - how do you know that you have the power of sight?
You don’t know it in the same way that you know you have hands, or in the same way that you know the grass is green. However, every single thing that you see is evidence that you have the power of sight.
P: Is this inference?
Jogi: Not exactly. The traditional example is as follows: “There is smoke on the hill. Where there is fire, there is smoke, and where there is smoke, there is fire. There is no smoke without fire, and no fire without smoke. Therefore, there is fire on the hill.” As you can see, it must first be established that the fire and smoke only ever appear together, and when one is not there, the other is not there either. This is called vyaapti, or in English, invariable concomitance.
In this example of the power of sight and seeing, you cannot establish vyaapti, because in order to establish the perceptions of sight as rising and falling with the power of sight, you must use the very power of sight you are trying to establish.
P: So if I don’t perceive it, and I don’t infer it, how do I know I have the power of sight?
Jogi: Do you know you have the power of sight?
P: Yes.
Jogi: Then there must be another way to know things outside of Pramaan, or evidence. This additional way to know things is known as aparokshajnana (अपरोक्षज्ञान) - un-mediated knowledge.
Most of the time, when we know things - such as a book, a table, or even the contents of a thought - it is by way of the triad of object of knowledge, instrument of knowledge, and the knowing mind. Pramaan, or evidence, is good for these kinds of things. That is, knowledge of objects is mediated by the instruments of knowledge and the knowing mind.
However, Pramaan is limited when it comes to the instruments of knowledge or the knowing mind themselves. Here, we know the instruments and the knower without the mediation of the instruments or the knower.
This is the kind of knowledge that Aanand and Asmitaa Samaadhi require. The Awareness - the Purusha (aka You) - directly experience them, without the need for any evidence.
Asmitaa Samaadhi: Samaadhi on the Reflected Consciousness
The word Asmitaa is a combination of the verb conjugation “asmi” (अस्मि), which means “am”, and the suffix “-taa” (-ता) which means “-ness.” Together, the word means “Am-ness.”
We previously encountered the word asmitaa when discussing the kleshas - mental colourings, or afflictions. The word here has a different meaning, referring to the reflected Consciousness, or chidaabhaasa - the feeling of being aware. To make this distinction clear, asmitaa as a klesha refers to the action of the ahamkaar in a thought such as “I am thin”, “I am happy”, or even “I am aware.” Asmitaa in this context refers to the feeling of “I am”, without the qualifiers of “thin”, “happy”, “aware”, and so on.
In the previous stage of Samaadhi - Aananda - the Yogi’s awareness rests upon the instruments of knowledge - the powers of sense and the mind. Here, the awareness goes a level deeper, resting upon its own reflection in the sattva aspect of the buddhi - the very last thing in nature that one can be aware of. In Aananda Samaadhi, there is a feeling of Bliss. Here, the Yogi goes beyond this feeling of Bliss and rests their awareness of the buddhi.
As a recap, the buddhi is defined as follows:
बुद्धिर्नाम निश्र्चयात्मिकान्तःकरनवृत्तिः।
Buddhirnaama nishchayAatmikaAntahkaranaVritti
Buddhi is the name for that movement of the internal instrument (ie. the “mind”) which determines.
- Vedantasara, 65
Specifically, whenever you make a decision - from decisions as big as deciding where to live, to decisions as small as deciding to swipe your finger on your phone - it is the buddhi modifying into the form of the decision.
This buddhi is responsible for determination, which means it is responsible for decisions, but also for distinguishing between objects, understanding, and placing attention upon different objects.
To use an ancient analogy, it the charioteer who uses the reigns (the manas) to direct the horses (the senses).
The buddhi, being the closest Prakritic covering of the Purusha, receives, in a sense, the most light of awareness, just as Mercury, being the closest to the sun, receives the most light. Additionally, because it is highly sattvic, it reflects this light in such a way that it forms an image within it, just as the moon reflects off water in such a way that an image forms within it.
In Asmitaa Samaadhi, this reflection of the Purusha in the sattvic aspect of the buddhi becomes the support for Awareness.
Here, the Yogi can start to notice how this reflection shifts along with the movements of the mind, and how the very fact of being able to notice these changes indicates that the reflection - which we have for all our lives thought of as “me” - is, in fact, just another object.
A traditional example compares our predicament to a person looking in a dirty mirror, becoming worried because they think that their face has become dirty. Then, when they realise that the dirt is on the mirror, and not on their face, they become calm.
Similarly, through Asmitaa Samaadhi, the Yogi watches the chidaabhaasa carefully, and can see directly that it is different from them. This results in a feeling of great calm and peace, and is characterised by a sense of expansiveness.
What’s next?
At this point, the Yogi’s awareness can let go of the chidaabhaasa to rest without support. This is called asamprajnaata samaadhi, and is the final stage of Yoga.
Of the various consecutive stages of Samaadhi discussed thus far, Aananda and Asmitaa can both be seen as more specific forms of Nirvichaar Samaadhi.
Nirvichaar Samaadhi is a special stage, because this is the first time that the Yogi sees beyond the relative, specific, manifestations of the Universe into their underlying components. This vision results in a type of wisdom, or Prajnaa (प्रज्ञा), characterized as Ritambhara (ऋतंभर), or truth-bearing, which deepens as Samaadhi deepens and becomes more stable.
This truth-bearing wisdom will be the subject of our discussion next week.
Until then:
At the end of your regular meditation practice, when the bell rings, sit quietly for a few moments and rest in the feeling of “I am.” Try to see if you can catch a hold of this feeling as an object.
During your day to day activities, try to notice the feeling of being aware. How does the awareness change as you become more tired, more energized, or as you fall into dreams or deep sleep?
Take notes, and ask any questions here:
Next week: Truth-bearing wisdom
Throughout this series you may notice the use of the capital letter “C” in Consciousness or the capital letter “A” in Awareness to denote Pure Consciousness.