Truth-bearing wisdom: Part I
"I" am not the ultimate conscious entity, Reality as it is
Om Sri Gurubhyo Namah. Salutations to all the teachers.
Samaadhi - the eighth and final limb of Yoga - is when the mind is so intensely absorbed in the object of meditation that the distinction between observer and observed completely disappears.
It is not something that you do, but rather something that happens to you.1 However, the descriptions we have been discussing thus far are helpful in much the same way as a map may be helpful to a traveler, insofar as the map doesn’t take you to the destination, but prepares you for what you will find on the journey.
Over the past several weeks we have been discussing the various levels of Samaadhi. Broadly, Samaadhi is of two types - with an object of support for attention (samprajnaata or sabeeja), and without (asamprajnaata or nirbeeja).
Samprajnaata Samaadhi - Samaadhi with support - can further be broken down into four categories, depending on the level of subtlety of the object. These four levels are:
Vitark: Samaadhi on objects (e.g. the breath, a mantra, a flame, an attitude like compassion, the chakras, etc.)
Vichaar: Samaadhi on subtle elements - the tanmaatras that compose the physical objects, e.g. sound, texture, form, taste, and touch, and their causes.
Aanand: Samaadhi on the instruments of perception, i.e. the senses, the various components of the antakaharana.
Asmitaa: Samaadhi on the chidaabhaasa, ie. the reflection of Consciousness in the sattva aspect of the buddhi.
The earlier levels here encompass the later ones, just as the outer layers of an onion encompass the inner layers.
Vitark and Vichaar can further be broken down into two samapattis each - the savikalpa and nirvikalpa versions (i.e. savitark, nirvitark, savichaar, and nirvichaar). The difference between savikalpa and nirvikalpa is that in the former, word, meaning, and knowledge are intermingled with each other, whereas in the latter, word and knowledge drop away, and the meaning - the object itself - shines alone without the veil of thought.
This type of perception - where word and knowledge are no longer interfering with the experience of the object - is known as parapratyaksha, or the higher perception.
When parapratyaksha becomes stable in the Yogi’s mind, a particular type of wisdom, known as Prajnaa (प्रज्ञा, pronounced pruh-gyaah), begins to sprout. It is not wisdom in the sense of wise sayings or teachings - although it can certainly manifest in that way - but rather a way of seeing the world in which habitual thought patterns no longer interfere with perception.
This wisdom is one of the side effects of Yoga. There is nothing supernatural or magical here - it is just a matter of practice.
Specifically, this wisdom comes in three forms:
The visceral experience that the “I” is not the ultimate conscious entity.
The visceral experience of reality as it is, without the veil of thought.
The visceral experience of the suffering of others, and an intense sensation of compassion.
In this week’s article, we will discuss the first one and begin the discussion on the second. Then, next we will continue the discussion on the foundation we build upon here, and begin the discussion on the third.
I am not the ultimate conscious entity.
निर्विचारवैशारद्येऽध्यात्मप्रसादः।NirvichaaraVaishaaradyeAdhyaatmaPrasaadahWhen Nirvichaar Samaadhi leads to a stable flow [of sattva, the Yogi experiences] lucidity of the inner Self.
- Yoga Sutra, 1.47
In Asmitaa Samaadhi, the Yogi’s attention becomes absorbed in the reflection of Consciousness in the sattvic aspect of the buddhi.
Specifically, this is the raw feeling of “I am” that comes before the limiting factors of “I am a person”, “I am so and so”, “I am tall”, etc.
Consider for a moment that you are conscious that you are conscious. It is not just that you are aware, but you are aware of the very fact of your awareness.
We must then ask, do I have two awarenesses? One that is aware, and the other that is aware of the awareness? In a sense, this is true. However, one awareness must be more ultimate than the other. One can imagine this as awareness existing in a space of Awareness, the latter of which one cannot be aware.
In Yoga, the space of Awareness is the Purusha (aka You), and the feeling of awareness is the chidaabhaasa - the reflection of Awareness in the mind. The reflection rises and sets like the sun - you are aware of when your awareness dims as you become tired, or as it rises when you become energetic. However, the one that is aware of this rising and setting awareness does not itself rise or set, otherwise, how could it notice the change?
All change is relative, and so the rising and setting of awareness can only be known if compared to a consistent Awareness. This Awareness is the Purusha, and in Asmitaa Samaadhi, it becomes clear that the mind is not the ultimate conscious entity. Specifically, the Purusha becomes aware of itself via its reflection in the sattvic buddhi, just as one becomes aware of their own face when they look into a mirror.
Now let us get a bit technical.
Although it is possible to notice, normally, in our day to day, this feeling of being aware of being aware is not in our regular realm of perception. In fact, when you try to notice it, you will likely find that your breath becomes calm and subtle. This is an indication of the mind calming down (remember, chale vaate chale chittam - as the breath moves, so the mind moves).
That is, we can only notice the chidaabhaasa (the reflected, or phantom consciousness) when the mind is calm and clear - aka sattvic.
Through the sequential techniques of Yoga, we are essentially, systematically, increasing the proportion of sattva in the mind. Through regular practice, eventually, sattva becomes predominant, and flows by itself, undisturbed by rajas and tamas. That is, rajas and tamas still exist, but do not block the flow of sattva. This can be compared to the windshield of a car. When it is raining, and the wipers are off, it is very difficult to see what is going on in front of you. This is like tamas clouding the mind.
Then, you turn on the wipers (here, rajas), and you can start to see the road in front of you, but only momentarily, as long as the wipers or the rain are not obstructing your view. These are like the flashes of sattva that we get when we practice for some time.
Eventually, when it stops raining, the road in front of you becomes absolutely clear, and you can turn off the wipers. This is like the steady flow of sattva which comes after intense and prolonged practice.
The first few times of Samaadhi, and often even before, we may get glimpses of the fact that we are that Awareness beyond the mind, but it is not stable due to the interference of rajas and tamas. After some time, however, this mental channel deepens, just like when water is poured in the same spot on the soil repeatedly, and eventually, sattva becomes the natural state. When this sattvic state stabilizes, it becomes an obvious fact that You are the Purusha - the Awareness beyond the mind, aware of its ups and downs.
An indicator this sattvic state becoming stable is when Nirvichaar Samaadhi becomes stable. That is, when the mind is able to easily move beyond the gross manifestations of the tanmaatras that pervade all apparent objects.
Nirvichaar Samaadhi is just the first step towards this wisdom, which stabilises as the next few levels of Samaadhi arise.
I see things as they are.
ऋतंभरा तत्र प्रज्ञा।Ritambharaa tatra pragyaaThere [in the stable flow of sattva stemming from Nirvichaar Samaadhi], is truth-bearing wisdom.
- Yoga Sutra, 1.48
There are three ways through which we gain valid knowledge. These are called Pramaan - epistemological tools, or evidence:
Pratyaksha (प्रत्यक्ष): Direct perception
Anumaan (अनुमान): Inference
Aagama (आगमः): Trusted testimony
To make this clear, let us consider an example of a cold glass of water placed on a table. How do you know it is cold?
One method would be to touch the water itself, and to feel that it is cold. Here, you used the sense of touch to gain the knowledge that the water is cold. This is Pratyaksha, or direct perception.
Another method would be to look at the condensation on the outside of the glass. Here, you did not touch the water itself, or experience the coldness directly. Rather, you used knowledge that you had previously acquired, where you have seen condensation on containers holding cold water, so as to determine the temperature of the water in front of you.
Specifically, you put the perception of the condensation in front of you together with the memory of seeing condensation on containers holding cold water in the past, and determined that condensation only occurs when the liquid in the container is cold, that where there is a cold liquid, there must be condensation. Then, armed with this knowledge, you determined that the water in front of you was cold. This is Anumaan, or inference.
Finally, a third method would be if someone you trusted touched the water themselves and told you that it was cold. This is Aagama, or trusted testimony.
These are the three methods that we use, as humans, to gain knowledge that we consider to be valid.2
For more on these, you can take a look at the article on vrittis, or mental whirlpools, here:
Notice that all of these methods of knowledge require the use of word (shabda) or knowledge (jnana) - that is, the use of symbols or signifiers.
P: How?
With Aagama, or trusted testimony, your trusted friend told you, using words, that the water was cold. Without language, your mind could not have received the knowledge that the water was cold.
With Anumaan, or inference, you used language to determine that condensation occurs on cold vessels, and that cold vessels generate condensation.
P: No, I just knew. I didn’t use symbols to do that.
Jogi: Then how did you know that there is condensation on cold vessels?
P: I just remembered it from my past experience.
Jogi: And did you apply that knowledge to the current situation?
P: Yes.
Jogi: How did you know to apply that knowledge and not some other knowledge, such as the knowledge of how flowers grow, or how smoke appears when there is fire?
P: Because I categorized this situation and the memory into the same category.
Jogi: Exactly. Categorization requires the use of symbols or signifiers, mental or otherwise.
P: How?
Jogi: Where does the category exist? Out in the world, or in your mind?
P: Both, no?
Jogi: Can you touch a category? Can you see it, hear it, taste it, or smell it? Or can you only see, hear, etc. the objects within the category?
P: I can only sense the objects within the category. The category itself is a mental creation that I place upon the objects.
Jogi: Exactly so.
All inference requires, and is entirely dependent upon categorization, and all categorization is dependent upon the use of shabda and jnana. For example, when you infer fire when you see smoke, it is because you used language (ie. shabda and jnana) to categorize different fires from your memory, distinguish fire from smoke, and then to determine the causal link between them.
Finally, even direct perception - Pratyaksha - is dependent upon the use of language.
P: What do you mean? I touched the water and knew it was cold. I didn’t need to use any language to do that.
Jogi: What did you touch, and how did it feel?
P: I touched “water”, and knew it was “cold.”
“Touch”, “water”, and “cold” are all categories. Therefore, the perception of cold water required the categorization of the specific objects into their generic categories. When you see a flower, you don’t actually see the flower itself - you see a group of visual perceptions, some of which you categorize into the group “flower”, others of which you disregard and call “the background.” This is true for any perception - sight, sound, texture, taste, or smell.
In this way, even direct perception is dependent on the use of shabda and jnana. Said another way, language provides a connection between signifier (linga) and signified (lingi).
This relationship between linga and lingi only exists between words and generics, or saamaanya. The linga-lingi relationship does not exist between words and specifics, or vishesha.
Vishesha cannot be signified using language - it can only be indicated. That is, the sound of a bell is different from the words “sound of a bell.” The touch of cold water is different from the sound “touch of cold water.” The reality itself - the vishesha can be pointed at, but cannot truly be described using words.
This is like if your friend were to point at a bird flying in the sky with their finger, at some point your attention would leave their finger and follow the general direction until you saw the bird. The finger only indicates the bird, it is not itself the bird. In the same way, words only indicate visheshas, but do not define or describe them.
To make this clear, consider the room you are sitting in right now. If you had to describe every single detail of just the room in just one small slice of time - one moment - it would easily take over a thousand pages of words to do so, let alone if you were to describe a full minute, an hour, or a day.
Said another way, the amount of information contained in a string of words is minuscule in comparison to the amount of information you take in every single moment.
In this way, no vishesha can truly be described using words - we can only symbolize them through the use of categories, or saamaanya.
To use a traditional example, the word “pot” refers to a round, hollow, clay object that can be used to store liquids. Now the word “pot” and the specific pot itself are two different things - one is a sound, and the other is a round, hollow, clay object. What’s more, the word “pot” may or may not include the various cracks, imperfections, or idiosyncrasies of the pot in front of you. That is, if you had to reconstruct the pot from the word “pot”, or even from a detailed description of it, you would likely be unable to do so, for want of additional information.
P: Ok, I get it. The amount of information contained in the pot is way more than I can reasonably describe using language, which is limited in its information-providing capacity. However, in theory, if I took a million years to describe the pot in all its detail, it is possible to describe it in words, no?
Even if you had a million years to describe the pot in all its detail, it would still not be referring to the pot itself, but only to a series of categories that overlap to describe the pot in front of you.
That is, you may describe a crack on the side, a chip on its mouth, and the colour of the outer wall. However, “crack”, “side”, “chip”, “mouth”, “outer”, “wall”, etc. are also just categories, which, as we have discussed above, only exist in the mind, and each include a large group of objects. For example, the word “chip” can refer to any number of objects - a chip in wood, in clay, various different types and sizes of chips in clay, or even computer chips or potato chips.
In this way, not only is language incredibly imprecise and information-poor, it is also inadequate in terms of its type. It is ultimately only a symbol, a cariacature - not the real thing.
“The menu is not the meal.”
- Alan Watts
P: What does this have to do with Prajnaa and Samaadhi?
श्रुतानुमानप्रज्ञाभ्याम् अन्यविषया विशेषार्थत्वात्।ShrutaAnumaanaPragyaabhyaam anyaVishayaa visheshArthatvaatPrajnaa (ie. the truth-bearing wisdom gained from Nirvichaar Samaadhi) has a different object than the teachings and logic, in that it has vishesha (specifics) as its object.
- Yoga Sutra, 1.49
Nirvichaar Samaadhi is the first stage at which the following two things happen at the same time:
Word and knowledge drop away, and the object shines alone, without the veil of thought.
The varied objects of the world are seen to be nothing but modifications of the underlying tanmaatras - sound, texture, form, taste, and smell.
That is, the state of Nirvichaar Samaadhi makes it viscerally clear to the Yogi that what we call “objects” are simply conceptual constructions - saamaanya - layered on top of the world of specifics - vishesha.
This is parapratyaksha - the higher perception.
Once the Yogi’s mind becomes habituated to parapratyaksha, the distinction between concepts and specifics becomes apparent in day-to-day life. This leads to a clear vision of truth in all aspects of life, since perception is no longer clouded by judgements and preconceived notions in the mind. These judgements are cleared away like rain on a windshield, and the specifics of the objects of the world shine in their own glory, unobstructed by the veil of thought.
Where normally you may have seen the saamaanya - birds, trees, flowers, people - you now sees the vishesha - the glorious and infinite dance of Prakriti, which you had missed this whole time, even though it was right in front of you.
This kind of wisdom is different from the wisdom gained from studying the teachings, or from inferring the Truth about the nature of reality, in that it is directly experienced.
In this way, the wisdom gained from Nirvichaar Samaadhi (including Aanand and Asmitaa Samaadhi) is truth-bearing. That is, all other things we considered to be “truth” are only relative in comparison.
Next week, we will see how we can apply this wisdom born of Samaadhi to the teachings about Self, and how this application gives rise to compassion and love.
Until next time:
Notice when you judge and categorize objects - people, things, ideas, thoughts, or even yourself - and how your words influence your perceptions.
Continue your practice of the earlier limbs and the preliminary practices, and see how this influences the level of sattva in your mind, and how the level of sattva influences your predispositions towards judgement.
Next time: The compassion that stems from wisdom
Note that the apparent distinction between what you do and what happens do you is in itself only conceptual, and this distinction itself disappears in Samaadhi.
While only these three are considered Pramaan in the Yoga school, other schools, such as Vedanta, consider other Pramaanas, such as absence, comparison, presumption, and analogy, to be valid. On the other hand, schools such as Chaarvaaka (the ancient Indian school of materialists) do not even consider inference, but only direct perception, to be valid.
Thanks for explaining these difficult concepts so very clearly in simple language.