I want to clarify a couple of things right up front.
I am not a guru, sage, or expert. I'm just a guy who has been seeking answers for many years. My objective here is to share a little of what I've discovered in the hopes that it might help some other seeker find their way.
When I say "Yogic Lens" I mean from a Patanjalian perspective. In other words, the system of spiritual philosophy and metaphysics laid out in the Yoga Sutras. I mention this because "yoga" is often used pretty loosely to describe what is actually a mix of traditions, philosophies and practices. They all share roughly the same end goal even if they disagree on the particulars. If you are new to all of this then don't worry too much about this point yet. It might become important if you decide to delve deeper. But for now though the following description will give you a decent idea of the intended purpose of meditation in yoga. Let's dive in.
What is the Purpose of Yoga?
To understand meditation through a yogic lens, let's start with a definition of yoga from Patanjali's perspective. We don't have to look to hard because he gets right to the point, stating in Sutras 1.2-3:
1.2 yoga citta-vritti-nirodhah
Yoga is the stilling of the changing states of the mind
1.3 tada drastuh svarupe vasthanam
Once this is accomplished the seer abides in its own true nature
So yoga is stilling the mind. That sounds a lot like meditation, or at least our common conception of meditation, right?! But hang on, there's more. Notice that it doesn't say "emptying" the mind. The idea isn't to stop thinking or feeling completely. But it is a matter of stilling our mind enough so that we aren't completely overwhelmed by our thoughts and emotions. Why would we want to do this? Sutra 1.3 has the answer: so that we can experience our deepest, most essential self, i.e., our true nature. Here is an example that might help. Imagine that you fill a glass with water from a muddy river. At first, the water is murky and doesn't let much light pass. If you let the glass rest for some time, eventually the sand, silt, clay and other particles (everything that isn't water) begin to drop out of suspension coming to rest at the bottom of the glass. What is left? Pure water. Notice that the the glass still contains the sand, silt, clay and other particles, but they no longer obstruct our ability to accurately perceive the water.
The Core Problem Yoga is Trying to Solve
In everyday waking life, most of us are continually engrossed in the thoughts and emotions arising from life circumstances, religious or political beliefs, to-do lists, or someone else's words, actions, moods. We are like the glass of water and our thoughts and emotions keep the water all mixed up and murky. We are often so blind to this state of enslavement that we fundamentally believe that we are these things. We believe that we are the muck and not the water, because we are blind to the water. And so, our identity becomes entangled with the contents of our thoughts, emotions, and life circumstances. This entanglement, this misidentification, is the source of our suffering. To see how this works, consider the following statements:
I am depressed/happy.
I am poor/wealthy.
I am hungry/full.
I am Republican/Independent/Democrat.
I am capable/not capable.
I am ugly/beautiful.
I am strong/weak.
I am unlovable/adored.
I am a husband/wife.
I am CEO/VP/Director/Manager/Junior Associate
In making these statements we implicitly merge our identification with the words after "I am". We become identified with our emotional state, our physical characteristics, the size of our bank account, our political affiliation, or our role at work. But notice that every single one of these things is temporary and subject to change. So when change inevitably comes, what happens? We suffer. We suffer when our momentary happiness erodes into sadness, we suffer when we lose our job, we suffer when our physical appearance changes as we age, we suffer when a relationship ends. We suffer when we tie our identity to something that is outside of ourselves, to something that is not fundamentally us. Living this way lifts us up, slams us down, beats us up, tears us apart, and after a few rounds of this we wonder "what is the point?" This is the core problem that yoga is trying to solve.
Try taking a moment to observe where you place the core of your own identity. Is there anywhere that you find yourself entangled with thought, emotion, belief, title, or position? When we take time to see clearly we often find that we are saturated in misidentification. It seems to be a fundamental part of the human experience! In fact, it is so common that Patanjali says that misidentification (or ignorance of our true nature) is the fundamental cause of our suffering and is the main obstacle we face on our path to liberation. He calls it avidya, which means ignorance. He lists four other obstacles: asmita (ego), ragas (attachment), dvesa (aversion), abhinivesah (clinging to bodily life). To unpack each of these would take some time. Fortunately for us, Patanjali says that avidya is the root of all the rest. If we focus our effort on rooting it out then the other obstacles will take care of themselves.
The Way Out is In
So how is it that we avoid misidentification? Simply put, we go on a quest of Self discovery. We begin to uncover all those places we have misplaced our identity. We begin to notice our own patterns and hang ups, attachments and aversions. And we do so, according to Patanjali, through a set of practices that lead us all the way up to and through meditation. When practicing meditation the mind stills, the particles begin to drop from the water, and we begin to experience this Self free from all the things that it is not. As one of my meditation teachers put it:
We meditate so that we can get to know ourself, so that we can forget ourself, so that we can open to something much greater than ourself, which is our true Self.
I find it extraordinarily beautiful that Patanjali never seeks to be overly prescriptive when giving a definition of our true Self, our essence or core nature. He says a bit about what it is not, and speaks about the effect of being identified with our true Self (namely, freedom from suffering). If this thing I'm calling "Self" exists, and if it is what we essentially are, then it should be accessible to each of us in any given moment. It's not just a concept but a tangible experience, because it is our very essence! So, why try to confine it with words? Its better instead to go in search of it and experience it for ourselves. And if whatever it is that we find along the path doesn't lead to a felt sense of increased freedom, of liberation from our suffering, of lightning our load and making life a little more tolerable if not sweeter, then we best keep looking.
Yoga's Prescription
So what is this path that Patanjali lays out that takes us from ignorance all the way to union with our true Self? They are the eight limbs of yoga. I'll run through them here so that you can see how the various elements of a yoga practice fit together as a holistic system leading toward getting us unstuck from our misidentifications, i.e., the process of letting the muck clear from the water. The eight limbs are:
Yamas
Niyamas
Asana
Pranayama
Pratyahara
Dharana
Dhyana
Samadhi
The yamas and niyamas are the moral and ethical precepts that help one live a pure life. There are five of each and, digging in to each, you'll find a lot of overlap with Buddhist teachings, especially the 8-fold path. Why are the yamas and niyamas the starting point? My take is that living 'rightly', or according to universally agreed upon values minimize the karmic load that we generate and take into our practice. Living this way helps keep the detritus that we must clear away to a minimum. Going back to the example of the glass full of murky water, practicing the yamas and niyamas minimize the amount of muck that clouds the water in the first place.
Asana and pranyama are the practices you will most frequently encounter in a Western yoga studio today. Asanas are physical postures (like Warrior I, II, III), and pranayama is breath control. Patanjali says very little about asana except that it is to be practiced to strengthen the body so that it can sit comfortably in relaxed stillness during meditation. He has a little more to say about pranayama, the main takeaway being that it helps to stabilize the mind making it fit for concentration.
Pratyahara is sense withdrawal. We are constantly bombared by external stimuli. The passing sound of a car, the hum of a refrigerator, the air moving across our skin, the smells around us. These inputs are constantly vying for our attention and our minds are happy to oblige. But when we draw our senses inward it allows the mind to be focused on the object of meditation.
When taken together, asana, pranayama, and pratyahara it is sort of like bringing stillness to the glass of murky water. As our body, breath, and senses begin to align and synchronize it allows the sand, silt, clay, and particles to begin to separate from the water.
The final three limbs, dharana, dhyana, and samadhi, occur more on a continuum rather than as distinct practices, collectively known as samyama. We begin with dharana, which is single pointed focus. So, whatever the object of our meditation (for example, the water in the glass) we fix our mind on it and retain that focus. When we do this intensely and maybe for a significant duration of time we notice that the flow of thought appears to still upon the object of concentration. This is dhyana, otherwise known as meditation. The final limb, samadhi, which roughly translates as liberation or freedom, spontaneously arises when the object of meditation shines forth just as it is. Devoid of name or concept or any other mental formation. The water is free from any impurities that prevent us from seeing it as it truly is. What happens from here? Well, words are formed from mental constructs that contain conceptual meaning and because this state transcend concepts and constructs, words fail to adequately capture what happens next. For the curious among you, my invitation is to take up the practice and experience for yourself.
Parting Thoughts
I've gained a lot from Patanjali's Yoga Sutras. Reading them for the first time helped unpack the mystery surrounding the practices I had found in various yoga classes up to then. Since then they have helped inform and deepen my own practice, both on and off the mat. And the eight limbs provide a helpful framework and set of dharma principles that I frequently use when structuring yoga classes that I teach. However, my main criticism is that the entire objective of Patanjali's yoga seems to be escape. To transcend this life and the world in which we live. That might be comforting to someone called to an ascetic path. But for me, I prefer to live my life in the world. How do I make the most of my short time on this planet. How do I experience a life more fully lived. Not seeking after more pleasure and less pain. But experiencing life with curiousity, wonder, and freedom. On the field, so to speak, instead of sitting on my meditation cushion in the bleachers watching it all go by. So my search doesn't end with Patanjali's Yoga Sutras, but continues on. More on that later...
Share your thoughts, questions, or favorite meditation, in the comments below!