Weakening the veil of karma
Blurring the lines between what you do and what happens to you.
Om Sri Gurubhyo Namah. Salutations to all the teachers.
“If you cannot help remembering the monkey, are you doing it on purpose? In other words, do I have an intention for being intentional, a purpose for being purposive?”
- The Way of Zen, Alan Watts
What is the difference between what you do, and what happens to you?
At first glance, it seems quite clear. I walk, I talk, I think, I speak - these are things I do. I decide to do them, and then I do them.
As for the things I don’t do, it seems that I don’t blow the wind, shine the sun, or grow the trees. Whether or not I decide to do them is irrelevant to whether or not they happen.
But then there are times when things aren’t so clear. For example, do I breathe? Do I blink? Do I burp? Do I make thoughts arise in my mind?
With these actions, the reason it is confusing is that sometimes we can decide to do them, but even when we don’t decide, they might happen anyway. We can exert some level of control, but other times they happen involuntarily.
I can decide to blink, burp, or think - but I will blink, burp, and think whether or not I decide to do so.
From a biological standpoint, it is fairly clear. There are some biological processes controlled by the autonomic nervous system - we usually call these “involuntary actions.” On the other hand, there are some actions which we have to decide to do. These are controlled by the somatic nervous system, and are usually termed “voluntary actions.” And then there are some actions wherein both these nervous systems have a degree of control. Breathing, blinking, burping, relieving ourselves, and sexual arousal are some that fall into this “mixed” category.
This seems pretty clear cut, until you look deeper.
Our distinction between voluntary and involuntary hinges on the act of deciding. My liver generates bile whether or not I decide to do so, and so it is involuntary. On the other hand, I decide to speak, and then I speak. Therefore, the act of speech is voluntary.
Let us now consider the act of deciding itself.
Do you decide to decide? If the answer is yes, then do you decide to decide to decide? If this were in fact true, it would lead to an infinite regress of decisions.
Rather than philosophising, let us turn to observation. If we are honest with ourselves, this infinity mirror of “deciding to decide to decide to decide” is not, in fact, our common experience of so-called voluntary actions.
Really, a decision happens, and then action happens.
Upon inspection, it seems that deciding is itself an involuntary act. The decision sort of “appears” in the mind, and action follows. Then, the mind takes credit for the apparent causal relationship between decision and action, saying “I did it.”
Taking this a step further, since deciding is itself involuntary, we must then acknowledge that any actions that stem from decisions are also, in this sense, involuntary.
P: Wait a second, how are you distinguishing between voluntary and involuntary?
Jogi: Normally, we consider the act of deciding to be the factor by which we distinguish voluntary from involuntary. Now, since we see that decisions themselves are involuntary, we are forced to question whether this distinction itself makes any sense. Since we don’t decide to decide (to decide) to do these actions, any actions stemming from these involuntary decisions, must also be considered outside of our personal control. In this way, we can call the actions involuntary.
P: So then there are no voluntary actions?
Jogi: Exactly. At this level, all actions are involuntary. Decisions arise in the mind, and the bodymind acts in accordance with the decision if the action is within the span of control of the autonomic nervous system.
P: So then is there no free will?
Jogi: Yes and no. The decision still happens, and the action follows. In this way, there is certainly free will. However, decision itself being involuntary, you don’t decide what you decide, and so in this way your will is not free.
P: Ok, but what does this have to do with Yoga?
For the past several weeks, we have been discussing the fourth limb of Yoga - Praanaayaam. While it begins with an intentional regulation of the breath, prolonged practice starts to have a funny effect, where this distinction between voluntary and involuntary starts to break down. What starts as voluntary breathing starts to take on the quality of involuntary action. Once this sense of “choiceless Awareness” (as Jiddu Krishnamurti so eloquently puts it) takes over, it starts to spill into other actions, and it feels as though all actions are simply spontaneous happenings.
Don’t take my word for it - you can try practising the simplest technique of samavritti praanaayaam for an hour at a stretch and experience it for yourself.
Patanjali describes this in the next sutra:
ततः क्षीयते प्रकाशावरणम्॥Tatah kshiyate prakaashAavaranamThen [with prolonged practice of Praanaayaam], the veil of illumination is weakened.
- Yoga Sutras, 2.53
The veil of illumination refers to karma - a topic we will discuss in more detail in future articles. Karma (कर्म, pronounced kuhr-muh, not car-muh) literally means “action”, and in this context refers to two types of actions:
Actions where you feel you are the doer (this feeling is known as कर्तृत्त्व -kartrittva, or “doership”)
Actions where you feel you are the experiencer of the results (this feeling is known as भोक्तृत्त्व - bhoktrittva, or “enjoyership”1)
P: But aren’t I the doer of my actions? And don’t I experience what happens to me?
Jogi: It depends on how you define the word “I.” If you consider the “I” to be the body-mind, then this is our normal feeling. We feel we do things, and we feel that we are the experiencers, or enjoyers, of things that happen to us.
However, if we investigate a little deeper, we find that our every decision is involuntary, and so we cannot honestly take credit for our actions.
As for experiences, when we notice that what we define as “I” is just a convention, for the sake of convenience, rather than an absolute, hard reality, we can no longer honestly say that “I” am the experiencer. Not only is the “I” that experienced an action is different from the “I” that remembers it, but the very “I”, being a convention, has no substantial reality.
All such actions, where we feel we are the doer or experiencer, leave impressions on the mind that are closely tied to the ideas of doership and enjoyership. These impressions are known as samskaaras (संस्कार), and can be likened to seeds. Like seeds, these samskaaras are planted deep in the mind. If there are enough seeds, it can become a tendency, or vaasanaa (वासना). When the conditions are right, these seeds sprout in the form of thoughts, words, and deeds. If, when they sprout, we consider ourselves to be the doer of those actions, or the experiencer of the results, they create more impressions, thus creating an infinite cycle.
To make this clear, let us take an example with our friend P.
One day, P was driving their car, and another car cut them off. P felt anger rising in the mind, and decided to roll down their window and shout at the offending driver.
Let us see how Jogi and P analyse this situation together.
Jogi: The decision to roll down the window and shout happened fairly quickly, but what was its source?
P: I was angry.
Jogi: Why were you angry?
P: Because I felt that they did something wrong, and it endangered my safety.
Jogi: What do you mean by “wrong”, and when you say “my” safety, what are you referring to?
P: By wrong I mean that it was different from what I (ie. this body-mind) thought was right. By “my” I am referring to this body-mind.
As we can see here, P shouted out the window because of a strong identification with their body-mind. This identification is the root of kartrittva, or doership. P felt that they were the one shouting out the window.
As for bhoktrittva, or enjoyership, P felt that they were the one wronged, even though the body-mind, conventionally speaking, was the one that had the experience. The identification with the body-mind is at the root of P’s bhoktrittva.
Note: If it is not clear why P is not the body-mind, take a look at this article before moving forward.
As a result, an impression, or samskaara, of the action and the experience will now be left in P’s mind. In the future, if the conditions are right, the seed will sprout into actions or reactions of a similar nature. This could be another situation where someone cuts them off while they are driving, but it could also be any other situation where they feel wronged, or anything else which “triggers” that samskaara to sprout.
This example is fairly simplistic, and there can be a lot of variety. Every mind has existing impressions which will influence the quality of the samskaara. For example, if P had previously been in a car accident, the resulting seed from this situation might lead to fear when the seed sprouts. However, regardless of the combinations of impressions, actions, and reactions, the principle remains the same. Actions and experiences lead to impressions and tendencies. These impressions and tendencies then sprout into further actions, reactions, and experiences. This cycle is, generically, known as karma.
Simply said, the more we consider ourselves to be doers and experiencers, the more we will continue to consider ourselves the doers and experiencers. This works like any other mental impression - attention simply follows thought-patterns that it is used to, like water on a field following existing channels.
P: So how do I break free of karma? This infinite cycle feels binding.
Jogi: You are right, it certainly feels binding. But there is good news. The whole project of Yoga is to break free from karma. In fact, Yoga is a systematic method to do exactly this.
From a Yogic standpoint, Knowledge (specifically Knowledge of the Ultimate Truth) is already within us. Liberation is defined as the removal of the barriers to this Knowledge, also known as Jnana (ज्ञान, pronounced gyaah-nuh).
P: So what is the barrier to Jnana?
The final barrier, which is also the source of all other barriers, is avidya, or the Primal Ignorance, which we have discussed at length. The ideas of doership and enjoyership, kartrittva and bhoktrittva, and stem from, and exacerbate avidya - thus making it harder to root out.
P: What is the mechanism?
There is a function of the mind called the ahamkaar. This is the particular movement of mind which takes credit for the happenings of the body-mind. To make this apparent, consider this. You don’t really know how to walk. If you were given full conscious control of all your nerves, muscles, and internal processes, walking would become an impossible task. If you are honest with yourself, you will find that a decision to walk appears in the mind, walking follows, and the mind then takes credit, saying “I am walking.”
प्रकृते: क्रियमाणानि गुणै: कर्माणि सर्वश:। अहङ्कारविमूढात्मा कर्ताहमिति मन्यते॥Prakriteh kriyamaanaani gunaih karmaani sarvashah AhamkaaraVimoodhAatmaa kartaAhamIti manyateNature is the doer of all actions, the gunas truly do everything. The Self, confused by the ahamkaara says “I am the doer.”
- Bhagavad Gita, 3.27
In reality, the body-mind cannot be extricated from nature. There is no real division between the body-mind and its surroundings. In addition, there is a constant flux - the body-mind is not constant, even for a single moment. Yet, we have a sense of constancy. It feels like I am the same “I” that was five minutes ago, five days ago, five years ago, and so on.
This discrepancy between reality and what we feel is explained by ahamkaar. It is an extremely useful function, in that it helps us feel like a consistent entity. However, just as a fire can cook but also burn, or the internet can spread both information and disinformation, the ahamkaar has a downside. If we take it seriously, it can lead to suffering.
This “taking it seriously” is at the very heart of avidya, and is what Yoga helps us to see clearly. Once we see for ourselves that the ahamkaar is not me, but just another play of the mind, the veil covering Jnana comes crashing down, and the illumination of Awakening shines through.
This may sound a bit woo-woo upfront, but it is actually quite logical. The body is shifting from moment to moment, but in our ignorance (or ignore-ance) we take it to be an entity that lasts through time, without questioning it. Our decisions are involuntary, but we choose to ignore this, and treat a subset of our actions as “voluntary.” In this way, we take on the burden of karma. We are not bound, but moment to moment, “we” choose to bind ourselves by choosing to not question things more deeply.
P: How does Praanaayaam in particular help with this?
As we began this discussion, we went over some actions that are on the border between what we normally consider to be voluntary and involuntary. Breathing, burping, excreting, blinking, and so on.
Notice, these actions are governed by the Praana.
By voluntarily modulating these activities, systematically, the line between voluntary and involuntarily starts to blur more easily than if we were to simply modulate activities that fell strictly into the usual “voluntary” category.
Experientially, it starts to feel as though everything is involuntary, and eventually, as the boundary starts to disappear completely, the feeling arises that everything in this Universe is done by You. If You are the one breathing, even when it is not being decided, then You are the one circulating your blood, and by extension, You are the one who blows the wind and shines the sun.
In terms of Yoga psychology, the Self starts to identify less with the ahamkaar, then dis-identifies with Prakriti (aka Nature), and finally identifies with the entirety of Creation.
In this way Praanaayaam is one of the most powerful limbs of Yoga, in that it can give you a boost - a sort of preview into what comes next. Vyasa, the primary commentator on the Yoga Sutra quotes an unknown verse to make this point:
तपो न परम् प्राणायामात्ततो विशुद्धिर्मलानाम् दीप्तिश्च ज्ञानस्येति॥Tapo na param pranayamaat tato vishuddhir malaanaam deeptischa gyaanasyaThere is no tapas that is superior to Praanaayaam in purifying the dirt covering the light of Knowledge.
- Vyasabhashyam on Yoga Sutra, 2.53
However, while this removal of avidya is indeed the goal of all of Yoga, Praanaayaam only shows us a glimpse. Once you open your eyes and stop the practice, the feeling will disappear, and you will most likely, once again, feel like a person with a mind, trapped inside a body. It is for this reason that Patanjali uses the word “kshiyate” (क्षीयते), or “weakens” rather than “eliminates.”
Continuous practice and strengthening the next few limbs of Yoga will help to make these glimpses longer and longer until this eventually becomes your natural way of living.
While this practice is extremely powerful, be careful: Having a blurred boundary between voluntary and involuntary can often lead to megalomania. One might start to feel like they are God, in the Abrahamic sense of the word. While this is not entirely wrong, one must remember that if they are God, everyone else is God too.
Until next time:
If you feel up to it, practice samavritti praanaayaam (or any other technique) for at least one hour while retaining a stable and comfortable seat. Notice the separation between voluntary and involuntary in your own mind - where does it originate? Can you isolate that movement of mind (chitta-vritti), and focus on it for an extended period through your practice? Notice what happens to the strength of this vritti as you continue the practice.
Take notes!
Next time: Withdrawing the senses: Pratyaahaar, the fifth limb of Yoga
The word भोक्तृ (bhoktr) literally means “enjoyer” or “eater.” In English, the word “enjoyment” is usually reserved for pleasant experiences. In Sanskrit, however, it refers to any kind of experience - positive, negative, mixed, or neutral.