The Yoga Tradition

by Georg Feuerstein

  I worship the young Dakshinamûrti, Lord of preceptors, who imparts the truth of the Absolute through the instruction of silence, who is surrounded by a host of aged seers dedicated to [the realization of] the Absolute, whose hand is in the gesture of [bestowing] Consciousness,21 who is of the form of Bliss, delighting in the Self, of joyous speech. (15)

  V. LEARNING BEYOND THE SELF—THE DISCIPLE

  Traditionally, when a person—generally a male— had resolved to seriously take up spiritual life, he approached a master of Yoga “with fuel in hand,” hoping that he would be accepted. The fuel sticks that he ceremoniously presented to his prospective teacher were an outward sign of his inner readiness to submit himself to the guru, to be consumed by the fire of spiritual practice. Yoga, or the spiritual process, has always been compared to a purificatory conflagration that consumes the ego-personality until the transcendental Self-Identity alone is left. Therefore, only foolhardy individuals would approach an adept unprepared—and were apt to be rejected, though perhaps not without having been taught some useful lessons about self-transcendence, love, obedience, nonattachment, and humility.

  Once an aspirant presented himself to a master of Yoga, he was carefully scrutinized by the teacher for signs of emotional and spiritual maturity. The esoteric lore must never be passed on to an unqualified individual, lest it cause him or her harm or be abused by him or her to the detriment of others. Spiritual pupilage is always a demanding affair and, ultimately, a matter of life and death. As we can read in the Mahâbhârata (12.300.50):

  This great path of the wise priests is arduous. No one can tread it easily, O bull of Bhârata! It is like a terrible jungle creeping with large snakes, filled with pits, devoid of water, full of thorns, and quite inaccessible.

  What is at stake in the spiritual process is the conditional ego-personality itself, which fiercely struggles to survive but which must be surrendered in order for the transcendental Self to shine forth. Spiritual life demands a rebirth that is as dramatic as the transformation of a caterpillar into a butterfly. This transmutation does not happen without great inner sacrifices, and not all aspirants are able to complete the process. Some even become lost en route, succumbing to insanity or terminal disease.

  Because the spiritual path is like a razor’s edge, a responsible teacher will not accept an unprepared individual for discipleship. He or she will, rather, apply certain traditional and also common-sense criteria of competence (adhikâra). Nonetheless, a teacher may decide to take on an ill-prepared aspirant if he or she detects a certain spiritual potential. Such a student must not expect to receive more than exoteric teachings until he or she has been purified of personal weaknesses through much service and study.

  Significantly, the Hindi word for “student” is chela, which also means “servant.” The Sanskrit equivalent is shishya, which stems from the verbal root shâs, meaning “to instruct” but also “to chastise.” The same root can be found in the words shdsa (“command”), shâsaka (“instructor”), shâsana (“instructing” or “chastising”), shâstra (“precept” or “textbook), shâstrin (“scholar”), shishtata (“learning”), and shishyatâ (“pupilage”). The double meaning of “instruction” and “chastisement” deserves comment. Modern education emphasizes reward rather than punishment as a goad to learning, which has been shown to lead to problems of its own. Children today expect to be rewarded and have little respect for authority. Ancient educators, however, were not immune to resorting to reprimand and, if necessary, physical chastisement, to correct a student’s behavior. Authoritarianism of course always has the potential of abuse, but nonauthoritarian, democratized education also lends itself to abuse—on the part of students. While a punitive education system falls short of the nonviolent ethics promoted by Yoga, authority and respect for authority clearly have their place in teaching.

  The Shiva-Samhitâ (5.17ff.) distinguishes four types of aspirants, classifying them according to the intensity of their commitment. The weak (mridu) practitioner is characterized as unenthusiastic, foolish, fickle, timid, ill, dependent, rude, ill-mannered, and unenergetic. This practitioner is fit only for Mantra-Yoga, consisting in the meditative repetition of a sacred syllable or phrase given and empowered by the teacher.

  The mediocre (madhya) practitioner, who is said to be capable of practicing Laya-Yoga—the path of meditative absorption and subtle energy work—is said to be endowed with even-mindedness, patience, a desire for virtue, kind speech, and the tendency to take the middle path in all undertakings. The exceptional (adhimâtra) practitioner, who qualifies for the practice of Hatha-Yoga, is expected to demonstrate the following qualities: firm understanding, an aptitude for meditative absorption (laya), self-reliance, liberal-mindedness, bravery, vigor, faithfulness, the willingness to worship the teacher’s lotus feet (both literally and figuratively), and delight in the practice of Yoga.

  For the extraordinary (adhimâtratama) practitioner, who may practice all forms of Yoga, the Shiva-Samhitâ lists no fewer than thirty-one qualities: great energy, enthusiasm, charm, heroism, scriptural knowledge, the inclination to practice, freedom from delusion, orderliness, prime of youth, moderate eating habits, control over the senses, fearlessness, purity, skillfulness, liberality, the ability to be a refuge for all people, capability, stability, thoughtfulness, the willingness to do whatever is desired (by the teacher), patience, good manners, observance of the moral law (dharma), the ability to keep the struggle of practice to himself or herself, kind speech, faith in the scriptures, the willingness to venerate God and the guru (as the embodiment of the Divine), knowledge of the vows pertaining to his or her level of practice and, lastly, the practice of all types of Yoga.

  After a person has been accepted by a teacher, he or she can expect to be tested again and again. There are even traditional prescriptions for such testing, although the teacher who is an advanced or even Self-realized adept is unlikely to need any guidelines for ascertaining a disciple’s seriousness about spiritual life. At this point, a student may begin to live with or close to the teacher, serving and attending him or her constantly. Such a student is known as an antevâsin, that is, “one who abides near.” In the company of a God-realized master, the practitioner is continuously exposed to the realizer’s spiritualized body-mind, and by way of “contagion” his or her own physical and psychic being is gradually transformed. This can be understood in modern terms as a form of rhythm entrainment, where the guru’s faster vibratory state gradually speeds up the disciple’s vibration.

  For this spontaneous process to be truly effective, the disciple must consciously cooperate with the guru, and this is accomplished by making the teacher the focus of attention. This is the great principle of sat-sanga. The word means literally “company of the True” or “relationship to the Real.” Sat-sanga is the supreme means of liberation in guru-yoga. And since the guru has from ancient times been deemed essential to yogic practice, sat-sanga is at the core of all schools of Yoga. However, it would be inaccurate to say that all Yoga is guru-yoga, for not every school makes focusing on the teacher a central practice, though all call for proper respect for the teacher.

  In practice, the aspirant must move from the stage of the student to that of the disciple and, in schools where guru-yoga is the norm, to that of the “devotee” (bhakta). At the student level, the aspirant still has an exoteric understanding of, and relationship to, the teacher. The student is inspired by listening to the teacher’s discourses but has not yet seriously taken up spiritual life and wavers in his or her commitment to the yogic process; worldly life still exerts a strong pull. The disciple, by contrast, is more sensitive to the esoteric relationship between the guru and himself or herself, understanding that there is a continuous psychospiritual link to the teacher that must be honored and cultivated. The devotee, finally, experiences the guru as a spiritual reality rather than as a human personality and is therefore naturally inclined to assume a devotional attitude that acts as a powerful conduit between the gu
ru and himself or herself. This is the essence of guru-yoga. Needless to say, not all schools calling for devotion to the teacher describe the mature disciple as a “devotee.”

  To enter into conscious relationship to the Real, in the form of the teacher, means more than to pay the guru attention in the conventional sense. What the scriptures call for is devotion to, or love for, the adept teacher. Thus, in the Mandala-Brâhmana-Upanishad (1.1.4), perhaps composed in the fourteenth century C.E., guru-bhakti or “devotion to the teacher” is listed as one of the constituents of the ninefold moral code (niyama) for yogins. And the Yoga-Shikhâ-Upanishad (5.53), which is of a similar age, declares:

  There is no one greater in the three worlds than the guru. It is he who grants “divine knowledge” (divya-jnâna) and should [therefore] be worshiped with supreme devotion.

  Similarly, the Tejo-Bindu-Upanishad (6.109) regards devotion to the teacher as indispensable for the serious aspirant. And according to the Brahma-Vidyâ- Upanishad (30), devotion to the teacher should always be practiced, because the teacher is none other than the Divine. The equivalence of guru worship and worship of the Divine is emphasized in the Shiva-Purâna (1.18.95) and in numerous other Sanskrit texts—far too many to list here.

  However, there are at least two scriptures exclusively dedicated to the theme of devotion to the spiritual master. The first stems from the tradition of Hinduism. This is the Guru-Gîtâ, which is widely circulated in India as an independent composition, but which belongs to the latter part of the vast Skanda-Purâna.22 It consists of 352 stanzas that are delivered in the form of a didactic dialogue between God Shiva and his divine spouse Umâ (or Pârvatî). The second scripture is a favorite Buddhist text—namely Ashva-ghosha’s Guru-Panca-Shikhâ, which is extant only in a Tibetan translation.23 Ashvaghosha (c. 80 C.E.) was a celebrated poet and an eminent teacher of Mahâyâna Buddhism, who achieved fame through his artistic biography of Gautama the Buddha, called the Buddha-Carita (“Buddha’s Conduct”), and a philosophical exposition entitled Shraddhâ-Utpâda-Shâstra (“Scripture on the Awakening of Faith”), of which the Sanskrit original appears to have been lost but which continues to be studied in Chinese.24

  During the antevâsin period the devotee discovers the potency of the mutual love between himself or herself and the adept teacher, creating profound trust in the guru and faith in the spiritual process itself. The disciple’s service (sevâ, sevanâ) becomes more demanding as his or her ability to take responsibility increases. According to the Kula-Arnava-Tantra (12.64) such service—the text actually uses the word shûshrushâ, meaning “obedience”—is fourfold: service through one’s bodily self (âtman), through material means (artha), through respect (mana), and through a good disposition (sad-bhâva). It is made clear that service is for the benefit of the devotee rather than the teacher.

  In the meantime, the guru constantly monitors the disciple’s progress, waiting for the right moment at which initiation (dîkshâ) can take place. As soon as the disciple is ready, the guru will begin to impart to him or her the secrets of the esoteric lineage. Only a fully qualified disciple, called adhikârin, is eligible for formal spiritual initiation. Only a fully enlightened adept is capable of empowering that initiation, so that the disciple’s life is mysteriously guided toward the fulfillment of the “Atman project”—the impulse toward Self- or God-realization.

  VI. GIVING BIRTH TO A NEW IDENTITY—INITIATION

  According to the Kula-Arnava-Tantra (10.1), it is impossible to attain enlightenment, or liberation, without initiation (dîkshâ, abhisheka), and there can be no real initiation without a qualified teacher.

  In anthropological contexts, the term “initiation” stands for a person’s transition to a new social grade or status, usually induction into a privileged group such as adult society or a secret brotherhood. Such initiation is frequendy marked by special mandatory ceremonies involving tests and trials of courage for the initiate— from seclusion and mutilation to the observance of special vows. Often the initiatory process is symbolized as the initiate’s death and subsequent rebirth. While these formal aspects of tribal initiation may also be associated with yogic initiation, the crux of dîkshâ is something more profound.

  Rather than an induction into a new social status, the yogic dîkshâ is primarily a form of spiritual transmission (sancdra) by which the disciple’s bodily, mental, and spiritual condition is changed through the adept’s transference of spiritual “energy” or “consciousness.” Dîkshâ means first and foremost “enhallowment.” This is captured in the synonym abhisheka, meaning “sprinkling,” which refers to the ceremonial act of sprinkling consecrated water on the devotee—a form of baptism. By means of initiation, which may occur informally or in a more ritual setting, the spiritual process is either awakened or magnified in the practitioner. It is always a direct empowerment, in which the teacher effects in the disciple a change of consciousness, a turnabout, or metanoia. It is a moment of conversion from ordinary worldliness to a sacred life, which alters the being state of the new initiate. From then on the student’s spiritual struggle has a new depth. The Kriyâ-Samgraha-Panjikâ (“Concise Compendium of Action”), a Buddhist Tantric scripture, quotes the following saying:

  The yogin who aspires to “yogihood” (yogitva) but has not been initiated is [like a person who] strikes out at the sky with fists and drinks the water or a mirage.25

  Initiation creates a special link between the guru and the devotee—a spiritual connection that represents a unique responsibility on the teacher’s part and a significant challenge for the practitioner. Through initiation, the aspirant becomes an integral part of his or her teacher’s lineage (paramparâ), which is understood as a chain of empowerment that exceeds the world of space and time insofar as it continues after the death of both the teacher and the disciple. Admission to this chain must be earned through wholehearted dedication to the spiritual path, which is a form of self-surrender. This has been made clear by the well-known Tibetan teacher Chogyam Trungpa:

  Without abhisheka our attempts to achieve spirituality will result in no more than a huge spiritual collection rather than real surrender. We have been collecting different behavior patterns, different manners of speech, dress, thought, whole different ways of acting. And all of it is merely a collection we are attempting to impose upon ourselves. Abhisheka, true initiation, is born out of surrender. We open ourselves to the situation as it is, and then we make real communication with the teacher. In any event, the guru is already there with us in a state of openness; and if we open ourselves, are willing to give up our collections, then initiation takes place.26

  Thus, the disciple’s emotional vulnerability, or openness, forms the basis for spiritual transmission. He or she must become like an empty vessel to be filled by the teacher’s gift of transmission. According to the Tibetan tradition, an unsuitable vessel can be dirty (full of emotional and mental confusion), turned upside down (inaccessible to instruction), or leaking (incapable of retaining the transmitted wisdom). The teacher is admonished not to waste the precious teaching (dharma) on a student who is an unsuitable vessel.

  What is it that is passed from teacher to disciple during initiation? The Tantric term shakti-pâta, which literally means “descent of the power,” encapsulates the central occurrence during initiation. Shakti-pâta stands for the event and the experience of the descent of a powerful energy current into the body, usually starting from the crown of the head or the upper torso and moving down into the pelvic area (which is the location of an important psychospiritual center, the mûlâ-dhâra-cakra) and sometimes into the lower extremities.

  By virtue of their enlightenment, or at least their advanced spiritual realization, the adept teachers have become a locus of concentrated psychospiritual energy. Whereas the ordinary body-mind represents a low-energy system, the adept’s body-mind is like a powerful radio beacon. This is not a mere metaphor. Rather, it is an experiential fact that is recognized in many esoteric traditions. There is even a
remarkable passage in Plato’s works where a conversation is recorded between Socrates and his pupil Aristeides. The latter confesses to Socrates that his philosophical understanding increases whenever he associates with the great philosopher, and that this effect is most pronounced when he sits close to him and touches him.

  In Aristeide’s case, it was intellectual insight that was deepened by sheer proximity to that great lover of wisdom, the saintly Socrates. In the case of the yogic initiate, a different transmission occurs. The initiate is inducted into the secret dimension of existence: He or she discovers that the apparent material cosmos, including his or her own body, is a vast sea of psychospiritual energy. In other words, the initiate begins to understand and experience the very actuality behind the mathematical models of modern quantum physics. The initiate’s body-mind and the universe reveal themselves as indefinable patterns of light and energy, imbued with superconsciousness.

  According to the Kula-Arnava-Tantra (14.39), there are seven kinds of initiation:

  Kriyâ-dîkshâ — initiation through ritual, which is said to be eightfold, depending on the type of ceremonial implements used, such as the fire bowl or the water jar, etc.

  Vama-dîkshâ — initiation by means of the alphabet, which has three versions, according to whether the alphabet used has 42, 50, or 62 letters. The teacher visualizes the Sanskrit letters in the aspirant’s body and then gradually dissolves them again, until the disciple has gained the state of ecstatic unification with the Divine. Visualization is not ordinary mental picturing but a powerful tool that, on the level of energy, actually creates objects perceivable by yogic means.

  Kâlâ-dîkshâ — initiation by means of the kalâ, which is a special emanation, a subtle form of energy, which the teacher projects into the aspirant’s body-mind again by means of visualization. This energy is given different names, depending on its appearance in different areas of the body. Thus, it is called nivritti (“cessation”) from the soles of the feet to the knees, pratishthâ (“foundation”) from the knees to the navel, vidyâ (“knowledge”) from the navel to the neck, shânti (“peace”) from the neck to the forehead, and shânti-atîta (“peace-transcending,” written shântyatîta) from the forehead to the crown of the head.27 Next the teacher visualizes these energies as gradually dissolving together with the disciple’s consciousness, until the mind reaches the zero- point of the manifest world itself, whereupon it flips over into the transcendental State.