Om Sri Gurubhyo Namah. Salutations to all the teachers.
Once upon a time, a lonely traveler, lost in the desert, wandered in search of water. As time passed in the scorching heat, his search became more desperate, and there seemed to be no hope.
Suddenly, as he passed over a sand dune, he noticed a single tree in the distance. Thinking that there must be water underground, he ran towards the tree and decided to dig.
He broke off a strong branch, walked a few paces away from the tree, and got started.
After a while, he got tired and took a short break to regain his breath. As he sat, he thought to himself that he may be digging in the wrong spot, and so decided to pick a new place to start digging.
He got up, walked a few paces away from the hole he had been digging, and started to dig a new hole. A few hours passed, and he had still not found any water. Once again, giving up on this second spot, he walked a few paces away and started to dig a third hole. This happened a few more times, but by this point the traveler was completely exhausted and dehydrated. As the sun set, he lay down in his last hole, looked at the sky one last time, closed his eyes, and died, not knowing that the water was just a few inches beneath him.
What type of meditation do you do?
Asking this common question is much like asking the traveller in the story where he was going to dig a hole. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter so much where, but how deep he dug.
The goal was to find water, not to dig holes.
Over the past few weeks, we have been discussing samyam - the combined practice of Dhaaranaa (concentration), Dhyaan (meditation), and Samaadhi (absorption). The technique is simple - pick an object, bring your attention to it, and when the mind wanders, gently return your attention back to the object.
Eventually, the mind “sticks” to the object as sattva increases. This is Dhyaan.
Finally, as we briefly discussed last week, the distinction between knower, instrument of knowledge, and known disappears, and the object shines forth without any names or concepts clouding it from view. This final stage is known as Samaadhi, or absorption.
Dhaaranaa, Dhyaan, and Samaadhi are not three separate techniques, but rather layers of depth of a single practice.
Most importantly, the object - known as the aalambanaa, or support - must remain the same in order to achieve depth efficiently. Otherwise, we end up like the traveler, trying out different aalambanaas, and never finding the depth we are looking for.
चतुर्भुजादिकं वा शरीरं घटादिकं वा
॥
ChaturbhujAadikam vaa shariram ghatAadikam va
[The aalambanaa must remain the same, be it] the four-armed form [of Vishnu] or a [clay] pot.
- Yogasara, Vijnanabhikshu’s commentary on Yoga Sutra 1.17
In popular culture, there are several “types” of meditation. For example, breath awareness, mantra, witnessing sensations, focusing on chakras, kundalini, walking meditation, compassion meditation, metta meditation, and so on.
While they all have their place, not all of these techniques come under the definition of meditation in Yoga. The image below clarifies how these popular practices fit into the Yogic framework.
P: I see how these techniques fit into the Yogic framework, but what’s the harm in calling them meditation?
Jogi: You can call them whatever you want. It is only important to understand where they fit so that you know which situations to use them in. For example, walking meditation is a form of eka-tattva-abhyaas, which can be used to calm the mind and reduce the effect of the nine obstacles. However, it does not allow attention to dive deeper than the surface of the body. As another example, the four attitudes - friendliness, compassion, gladness, and equanimity - are extremely useful to calm the mind in particular situations (ie. in the face of happiness, sadness, good deeds, and bad deeds, respectively). However, they do not allow attention to dive deeper than the surface of mental activity. On the other hand, meditation - samyam - gives attention a support with which to dive deep into the mind, uncovering otherwise unknown tendencies, and seeing into the depths of reality.
P: There are quite a few practices that do fall under samyam category. Do I have to do all of them?
Jogi: There are several types of meditation, even within the Yogic framework. A “type” of meditation is nothing but a different aalambanaa, or support. For example, one can use the breath, a mantra, or any other object. However, it is important to pick one and stick to it.
P: Why?
Jogi: It takes consistent practice to delve deep into attention. At this level of depth, trying to go deeper in meditation with a new aalambanaa is almost like learning an entirely new skill. It is like trying to get good at music, and then practicing the guitar, then giving it up and practicing the piano. Without staying with a single instrument for a sustained period of time, the depth of understanding will not come. In the same way, without staying with a single aalambanaa for a sustained period of time, it becomes difficult to go deeper.
P: What does it mean to go deeper?
Jogi: The first level of depth is Dhaaranaa, where the mind wanders and returns to the object. The second level is Dhyaan, where the mind remains on the object. Then, there is Samaadhi, where the distinction between subject and object disappears. Samaadhi itself has seven levels of depth, known as samapattis.
Last week, we began a discussion on the several levels of depth of Samaadhi, known as samapatti.
Samapatti is defined as follows:
क्षीणवृत्तेरभिजातस्येव मणेर्ग्रहीतृग्रहणग्राह्येषु तत्स्थतदञ्जनता समापत्तिः ॥
KsheenaVritterAbhijaatasyaIva manerGraheetriGrahanaGraahyeshu tatSthaTatAnjanataa samapattih
Samapatti [occurs when the mind], with weakened vrittis takes the form [of the object] like a jewel, [whether the object be] the grasper, the grasped, or the instrument of grasping.
- Yoga Sutra, 1.41
The preliminary techniques and the first seven limbs of Yoga weaken the kleshas, and reduce the intensity of vrittis, or movements in the mind. Eventually, the mental movements become so weak that the mind becomes completely clear, taking on the form of any object presented to it, without any additions.
This is compared to a transparent crystal, which takes on the colour of any object that is near it.1
To make this clear, find an object near you. It can be anything - a table, a chair, a flower, your phone, your body, etc.
Now look carefully at the object.
Notice, what you know of the object - including the very image of the object that you consider to be “the object” itself - exists only in the mind. The image of the object in your mind is a vritti - specifically a pratyaksha-pramaan-vritti (”direct perception-evidence-whirlpool”).
However, this is not the only vritti present in the mind as you look at the object. Most likely, the name of the object is also present in the mind (e.g. “table”, “chair”, “book”). This is a vikalp-vritti.
In addition, there is probably some memory (smriti-vritti) of the object - what its function is, how you have used it before, maybe a story of where you got it from, or what you plan to do with it. Even if these are not immediately obvious to you, if you look at the object for long enough, you can start to notice its subtle presence.
Finally, there are also kleshas. Most likely, the object belongs to you, and so there is asmitaa (”I am”-ness), which appears in the form of the word “my” (e.g. my table, my chair, my body). Additionally, you perhaps some level of attraction or aversion for the object, which colours the perception.
Let us take a moment to consider this. You looked at an object, but along with the image of the object, quite a large number of other mental movements also began to populate the mind. Some may have appeared more slowly, some more quickly, some may linger for longer than others. Regardless, when looking at an object, the visual image of the object is only a small fraction of the total volume of mental activity.
We normally see objects through a constantly shifting veil of thought.
Here, we used the example of tables, chairs, and other more or less neutral objects. Consider now the number of objects in your daily life. Everything you perceive is an object, and along with every perception comes a barrage of additional vrittis and kleshas.
In this way, the everyday mind is more like a dirty crystal.
If you put a dirty crystal next to a red flower, the red flower seen through the dirty crystal looks as though it is dirty. The image of the flower takes on the dirt within the crystal.
In samapatti, however, the mind is so clear that the perception of an object is the only vritti that appears in the mind, without a single other accompanying mental movement. In samapatti, when you see an object, you see the object as it is, without any additional memories, imaginations, or colourings.
In other words, the mind completely takes the form of the object, without any additions.
P: Ok, I get it, but didn’t you say that there are several levels of samapatti?
Jogi: Yes, there are several levels of depth of samaadhi, and these are types of samapatti.
P: What differentiates them?
Levels of Samaadhi
Last week, we introduced the three concepts of grahitr, grahana, and graahya. As a quick recap, in any act of knowledge, there are three necessary components - the knower, the instrument of knowledge, and the known object.
Grahitr: Knower (literally “the grasper”)
Grahana: Instrument of knowledge (literally “the instrument of grasping”)
Graahya: Known object (literally “the grasped”)
The levels of Samaadhi, known as samapattis, are characterized by which of these three - the known object, the instrument of knowledge, or the knower - is the support for awareness.
Specifically, this creates four categories of Samprajnaata (ie. with support) Samaadhi:
वितर्कविचारानन्दास्मितारूपानुगमात् संप्रज्ञातः
॥
VitarkVichaarAanandaAsmitaaRoopaAnugamaat sampragyaatah
Samprajnaata [Samaadhi] comes in four [sequential] forms - Vitark, Vichaar, Aanand, and Asmitaa.
- Yoga Sutra, 1.17
Vitark: Samaadhi on the gross aspect of the object
Vichaar: Samaadhi on the subtle aspects of the object
Aanand: Samaadhi on the sattva aspect of the antahakarana used to grasp the object
Asmitaa: Samaadhi on the sattva aspect of the buddhi used to grasp the object
Let us break these down using an example of the breath as the aalambanaa.
P: Why are we using only one aalambanaa?
Jogi: For the sake of example. This methodology applies to any aalambanaa.
P: But why just one?
Jogi: Using a single aalambanaa allows us to go deeper into the object. If we used several, we would be stuck at the surface.
P: What does it mean to go “deeper”?
Jogi: Let us see.
Graahya: The grasped
Using the breath as an example, the graahya, or the object, has two aspects:
The Tanmaatraas: Subtle elements
P: What do you mean by the “gross elements”?
Jogi: What senses do you use and not use when experiencing the breath?
P: I experience the breath using the sense of touch and hearing.
Jogi: What about smell?
P: With smell, I am sensing a different object. The breath itself does not include smell.
Jogi: So we have established that we know the breath using the senses of touch and hearing. These correspond to the mahabhutas of wind and space. Since we do not use any other senses, we can exclude the corrsponding mahabhutas of fire, earth, and water.
P: Wait - why do we care about these elements? We know with modern science that the elements making up the world are more complex than the five elements.
Jogi: You are right that modern science tells us that the world is made up of a much larger number of elements. However, this doesn’t mean that the mahabhuta system of five elements is wrong. Both are correct, in their own ways.
P: How so?
Jogi: The framework we use depends on the purpose we are trying to achieve. Using the periodic table to reach the Self is much like using quantum mechanics to build a bridge. The framework of quantum mechanics is useful for subatomic particles, but the framework of Newtonian physics is more helpful when building a bridge. Similarly, this framework is most helpful for phenomenologically reaching the Self.
P: Why?
Jogi: The mahabhutas are based on how we use the five senses to experience the world. They are not “elements” in same way we use the word when referring to the periodic table. Rather, we use this framework to view our experience of objects as modifications of the senses, rather than the way we normally view objects - as though they are “out there”, being experienced “through” our senses.
Ok, back to the breath.
The gross aspect of the breath is composed of space and wind.
We know this because we experience the breath through hearing and touch. Seeing the breath not as “breath”, but as a modification of space and wind, to the exclusion of all other objects is the first level of samaadhi, known as vitarka samaadhi. This is further broken down into two samapattis - called savitark and nirvitark - which we will discuss in the next article.
The subtle aspect of the breath is one level deeper. We have discussed how the breath is experienced through hearing and touch, and have seen how in the first level, we experience the breath as a modification of space and wind. Here, in the second level, the breath is now seen as a modification of the tanmaatraas that compose it - sound and texture. Said another way, we see the breath as nothing but sound and texture, just as one might look at a wave and see it as nothing but water with a particular form. This level of samaadhi, when the aalambanaa is seen as nothing but a modification of its tanmaatraas, to the exclusion of all other objects, is known as vichaar samaadhi.
For more on the tanmaatraas, take a look at this article:
Vichaar samaadhi is where most of the work of Yoga happens.
The object is systematically broken down into its subtler components, and seen clearly as nothing but a modification of them. While it begins with the tanmaatraas, it continues on to the sense organs themselves, and onward to all the subtle aspects of mind all the way up to Prakriti.
Specifically, at this point, we see the breath as nothing but a modification of texture and sound. After some time, however, we will start to notice that texture and sound are themselves nothing but modifications of their corresponding sense organs - touch and hearing. Then, we will start to notice that the sense organs are nothing but modifications of ahamkaar, which is just a modification of the buddhi, which is just a modification of the three gunas.
Normally, we consider that our sense of touch somehow “senses” an object outside of us. Here, we notice that all textures are simply the sense of touch vibrating in a different way. Underlying all textures is the buddhendriya of touch, and underlying all sounds is the buddhendriya of smell. The buddhendriyas in turn are just the ahamkaar vibrating in a particular way, and so on.
This entire journey of moving inwards through the subtle aspects of the aalambanaa is known as vichaar samaadhi.
Notice, vitark samaadhi includes vichaar samaadhi.
When seeing an object as composed of mahabhutas (gross elements), the tanmaatraas (subtle elements) are contained within it. After all, one cannot feel the breath without the texture of the breath, and one cannot feel the texture of the breath without the sense of touch.
However, vichaar samaadhi does not include vitark samaadhi.
That is, one can see the breath as composed of nothing but texture, without any reference to the surface-level object called “breath.” As an analogy, water can exist without waves, but a wave cannot exist without water. (Keep this analogy in mind as we go through the following levels.)
In this way, with every deeper level of samaadhi, the external layers are “dropped off”, with vairaagya, thus allowing the Yogi to continue the relentless march towards the Self.
Note: Traditional commentators differ as to whether this level (of seeing the aalambanaa as a modification of the sense organs) is within vichaar samaadhi, or the next level of aananda samaadhi. However, these distinctions are nothing more than categorizations for the purpose of convenience of discussion, and need not be taken too seriously. The goal is direct experience, and this framework is nothing more than a map.
Grahana: The instrument of grasping
In this context, grahana, or the instrument of grasping, refers to the antahakarana - the internal instrument. Colloquially, this is what we normally refer to as “the mind”, but in Yoga, as we have seen, it has a specific definition. In particular, it is composed of three parts:
For more on these, take a look at this article:
At this point, the Yogi has explored how all objects are just modifications of their subtler components, all the way back to the three gunas - sattva, rajas, and tamas. Now, the Yogi goes a level deeper, narrowing the focus to the sattva aspect of the antahakarana.
P: Why would we exclude rajas and tamas?
Jogi: Sattva has an inherently reflective quality. The eventual goal is to shine the mirror of sattva enough to “see” our own reflection as Purusha, so that we can know ourselves as Purusha. In this way, by focusing on sattva as we go further inward, we allow the rajas and tamas to settle, as one might allow ripples and dirt in a pond to settle, so that we can see our reflection. Additionally, it is not that rajas and tamas are ignored - rather, sattva is simply more dominant the closer you get to the Purusha.
When the sattva aspect of the antahakarana becomes the support for attention, to the exclusion of all else, it is known as aananda samaadhi, or the “Bliss Samaadhi.” This stage comes with a feeling of bliss that covers the entire body and mind. However, beware, this feeling can be addictive, and can easily be confused for the goal. Knowing that this is a trap along the way helps the Yogi to be mindful of it, and to continue on the journey.
Graahya: The grasper
Now, the attention is narrowed even further to the most subtle aspect of the antahakarana - the buddhi. The Yogi sees that the entire Universe is nothing but a modification of the buddhi, and then narrows in further to its aspect as sattva.
Buddhi is often referred to as sattva because it is primarily composed of sattva. What’s more, this is the aspect of individuation that we confuse ourselves to be. We feel like we are something in this body, and even further, we feel like we are something within the mind. This sattva aspect of buddhi is that most subtle feeling of “I”-ness.
Through the systematic process of Samaadhi, the sattva aspect of buddhi eventually becomes the support for awareness. At this point, it is clear that the buddhi is just another object, and not the Self. This stage is known as Asmitaa2 Samaadhi, or “Samaadhi on the subtle aspect of individuation.”
When this happens, the Yogi can drop this final object with vairaagya, and rest in Awareness.
This final stage, where there is no object left to be aware of, is known as anya (literally “the other”), asamprajnata samaadhi, or nirbeeja samaadhi.
But this is not the end.
Consistent practice is necessary for this stage to settle in, and to become stable. Stability in nirbeeja samaadhi leads to kaivalyam, or Enlightenment, where there is no longer any doubt of the nature of Self.
Systematic progress
With this context, it is easy to see why sticking to a particular aalambanaa is important. What you choose doesn’t actually matter, because eventually they all end up at the same place. Actually, the actual object itself ceases to matter after the first Samaadhi!
The levels of Samaadhi are compared to the steady practice of an archer. At first, when the person is new to archery, they begin their practice with bigger targets. Then, as they improve their skills, they slowly reduce the size of the target, until eventually, they can shoot a target the size of a mustard seed from a great distance.
In the same way, Samaadhi begins with the gross object, gradually making its way to subtler and subtler targets, until eventually, it becomes effortless.
Until next time:
Continue your practice of Dhaaranaa, setting a “minimum time” rather than just an ending bell. This helps to let go into the depths of meditation. Stick to a single aalambanaa to allow yourself to go deeper!
Strengthen your practice of the earlier limbs.
Read the following articles in order to stabilize your understanding of the 25 Tattvas and their sequential nature:
Next time: Vitarka Samaadhi, and the distinction between word, meaning, and idea.
This example of the crystal taking on the colour of objects placed near it is common in both Yoga and Vedanta, and is also used in the context of upaadhis, or limiting adjuncts associated (apparently) with the Self.
The word Asmitaa used in this context has a different meaning from the klesha of asmitaa, where it is used to describe the identification of an object as “me” or “mine.”