The Yoga Tradition

by Georg Feuerstein

  The idea behind the appellation râja-yoga is that this type of Yoga is superior to Hatha-Yoga. The latter is thought to be for those who cannot dedicate themselves exclusively to the sacred ordeal of meditative practice and renunciation. In other words, Râja-Yoga understands itself as the Yoga for the true heroes of mind training. However, we cannot fail to note that this qualification is not altogether true to fact. For Hatha-Yoga, too, has its intense meditative practices and can certainly be as much of an ordeal as Râja-Yoga. Unfortunately, both Indic and Western practitioners of Hatha-Yoga do not always respect the spiritual goals or even the ethical foundations of this approach and often tend to pursue Hatha-Yoga as a kind of calisthenics or body cosmetics.

  Other explanations of the phrase râja-yoga are possible. It could refer to the fact that Patanjali’s Yoga was practiced by kings, notably the tenth-century King Bhoja, who even wrote a well-known commentary on the Yoga-Sûtra. Switching over to a more esoteric level of explanation, we could also see in the word râja a hidden reference to the transcendental Self, which is the ultimate ruler, or king, of the body-mind. Moreover, the Self is traditionally described as “luminous” or “resplendent” (râjate)-an adjective that stems from the same verbal root as râja. Or again, the term râja could refer to the “Lord” (îshvara), or God, who is recognized by Patanjali as a special Self among the countless transcendental Selves.

  Finally, the Yoga-Shikhâ-Upanishad (1.136–138), composed perhaps in the fourteenth or fifteenth century C.E., gives a completely esoteric (Tantric) interpretation:

  In the middle of the perineum (yoni), the great place, dwells well-concealed rajas, the principle of the Goddess, resembling the [red] japâ and bandhukâ [flowers in color]. Râja-Yoga is so called owing to the union (yoga) of rajas and semen (retas). Having attained the [various paranormal powers] such as miniaturization through Râja-Yoga, [the yogin] becomes resplendent (râjate).

  The red rajas principle mentioned in the above quote is sometimes identified as menstrual blood, sometimes as female hormonal secretions, and sometimes as ovum. The last interpretation makes the most sense symbolically, because the joining of semen and ovum leads to a new being—in this case, metaphorically, the condition of enlightenment. But hormonal secretions play a role in this Yoga as well, as they do in Taoism. Metaphysically speaking, rajas and retas are the feminine and masculine energetic principle respectively. Their perfect harmonization (samarasa) is thought to bring about the leap into unqualified ecstasy. But this esoteric explanation belongs to Tantric symbolism rather than Patanjali’s philosophical school.

  Râja-Yoga, or Classical Yoga, is treated at length in Chapters 9 and 10. Since its creation in the early centuries of the Common Era-some scholars, however, consider Patanjali to have lived in the pre-Christian period-Râja-Yoga has been one of the most influential schools of the Yoga tradition. It is the high road of meditation and contemplation. As Swami Vivekânanda stated enthusiastically, “Râja-Yoga is the science of religion, the rationale of all worship, all prayers, forms, ceremonies, and miracles.”2 He added that the goal of Râja-Yoga is to teach “how to concentrate the mind, then how to discover the innermost recesses of our own minds, then how to generalize their contents and form our own conclusions from them.”3 In the end this meditative quest is intended to lead to the discovery of the transcendental Reality beyond thought and image, beyond worship and prayer, beyond ritual and magic.

  III. HATHA-YOGA-CULTIVATING AN ADAMANTINE BODY

  The “forceful Yoga,” or Hatha-Yoga, is a medieval development. Its fundamental objective is the same as that of any authentic form of Yoga: to transcend the egoic (or, to coin a phrase, egotropic) consciousness and to realize the Self, or divine Reality. However, the psychospiritual technology of Hatha-Yoga is particularly focused on developing the body’s potential so that the body can withstand the onslaught of transcendental realization. We are prone to think of ecstatic states like samâdhi as purely mental events, which is not the case. Mystical states of consciousness can have a profound effect on the nervous system and the rest of the body. After all, the experience of ecstatic union occurs in the embodied state. The hatha-yogin, therefore, endeavors to steel the body—to “bake” it well, as the texts say.

  Most importantly, enlightenment itself is a whole-body event. This has been made nowhere more clear than in the writings of the contemporary spiritual teacher Da Free John (Adi Da), who writes:

  The Enlightenment of Man is the Enlightenment of the whole and entire body-mind. It is literal, even bodily Enlightenment, or Translation of the whole and entire body- mind of the individual into the absolute Radiance, Intensity, Love, or Light that is prior and superior to all the speeds of manifest or invisible light and all the forms or beings that cycle in manifest light, whether subtle or gross.4

  Thus, the disciplines of Hatha-Yoga are designed to help manifest the ultimate Reality in the finite human body-mind. In this, Hatha-Yoga expresses the ideal of Tantra, which is to live in the world out of the fullness of Self-realization rather than to withdraw from life in order to gain enlightenment. Hatha-Yoga belongs on the side of integralism, as explained in the Introduction.

  The Hatha-Yoga practitioner wants to construct a “divine body” (divya-sharîra) or “adamantine body” (vajrâ-deha) for himself or herself, which would guarantee immortality in the manifest realms. He or she is not interested in attaining enlightenment on the basis of prolonged neglect of the physical body. He or she wants it all: Self-realization and a transmuted body in which to enjoy the manifest universe in its diverse dimensions. Who would not sympathize with this desire? Yet, as can be imagined, the practitioners of Hatha-Yoga have sometimes sacrificed their highest spiritual aspirations and settled for lesser, perhaps magical, goals in service of the ego- personality. Magic, like exotechnology, is a way of manipulating the forces of Nature, whereas spirituality is about the transcendence of the manipulative ego-personality.

  Narcissism, or body- oriented egocentrism, is as great a danger among hatha-yogins as it is among bodybuilders. A strong will is necessary in all spiritual traditions, but it can never be a substitute for discernment and renunciation, especially the renunciation of self-will. But hatha-yogins, like other practitioners of Yoga, occasionally end up with inflated rather than transcended egos. This has led some scholars to characterize Hatha-Yoga as a decadent teaching. Thus, the German Sanskritist J. W. Hauer made this harsh judgment:

  A typical product of the period of decline of the Indian mind, which, in spite of all assurances to the contrary, is far from the ruthlessly honest urge toward full clarification, the liberation of the soul, and the experience of the ultimate Reality … Hathayoga has a strong touch of coarse suggestion and is intimately linked with magic and sexuality.5

  This condemnation certainly applies to the vulgarized versions of Hatha-Yoga practiced in India, but it is unjustifiable in regard to the authentic teachings and teachers of this tradition.

  Genuine Hatha-Yoga always demands that it should be understood as psychospiritual technology in service of transcendental realization. In the Hatha- Yoga-Pradîpikâ (4.102), the most popular manual of this school, this fact is expressed as follows:

  All means of Hatha [-Yoga] are for [reaching] perfection in Râja-Yoga. A person rooted in Râja-Yoga conquers death.

  What this stanza suggests is that Hatha-Yoga and Râja- Yoga should be looked upon as complementary, and that the desire to conquer death is fulfilled in Self-realization alone. For, only the transcendental Self is deathless and immortal. Even a specially manufactured “divine” body, composed of subtle matter or energy, must sooner or later disintegrate, since all products of Nature are subject to the law of change, or entropy.

  Hatha-Yoga reminds one of the many body-oriented therapies that have sprung up in recent years in Western countries. These have given us a new appreciation of the experiential or energetic dimension of bodily existence. However, the remarkable discoveries made by yogins centuries ago about esoter
ic or subtle anatomy still need to be fully appreciated. Especially the phenomenon of the serpent power (kundalinî-shakti), the psychospiritual force dormant in the unenlightened body-mind, is barely understood. Yet, as will be explained in Chapter 17 on Tantra-Yoga, it is central to the Hatha-Yoga practition- er’s inner work and to his or her perceptions and insights into dimensions of existence that are just beginning to be of interest to modern science. The metaphysics and the practical path of Hatha-Yoga are dealt with in detail in Chapter 18.

  IV. JNA-YOGA-SEEING WITH THE EYE OF WISDOM

  The word jnâna means “knowledge,” “insight,” or “wisdom,” and in spiritual contexts has the specific sense of what the ancient Greeks called gnosis, a special kind of liberating knowledge or intuition. In fact, the terms jnâna and gnosis are ety-mologically related through the Indo-European root gno, meaning “to know.” Jnâna- Yoga is virtually identical with the spiritual path of Vedânta, the Hindu tradition of nondualism. Jnâna- Yoga is the path of Self-realization through the exercise of gnostic understanding, or, to be more precise, the wisdom associated with discerning the Real from the unreal or illusory.

  The term jnâna-yoga is first mentioned in the Bhagavad-Gîtâ (3.3), where Krishna declares:

  Of yore I proclaimed a twofold way of life in this world, O guileless [Prince Arjuna]- Jnâna-Yoga for the sâmkhyas and Karma- Yoga for the yogins.

  Karma-Yoga, as we will see shortly, is the Yoga of self-surrendered action, which is said here to be for the yogins. The sâmkhyas are the follower of the once influential Sâmkhya tradition, which is the contemplative path of distinguishing between the products of Nature and the transcendental Self, until the Self (purusha) is realized in the moment of liberation. The Sâmkhya tradition, which has always been closely related to Yoga, is discussed in Chapter 3 in the section entitled “Yoga and Hindu Philosophy.”

  Vyâsa, the alleged author of the Bhagavad-Gîtâ, tried to bridge the gap between the two by having Lord Krishna reject the view that Yoga and Sâmkhya are completely separate approaches:

  “Sâmkhya and Yoga are different” say the simpletons, not the learned. Resorting properly to one [or the other], one obtains the fruit of both. (5.4)

  That state which is obtained by the sâmkhyas is also reached by the yogins. He who sees Sâmkhya and Yoga as one, sees indeed. (5.5)

  It is clear from the context that Krishna, Arjuna’s divine teacher, equates Jnâna-Yoga with Buddhi-Yoga. In my rendering of the Bhagavad-Gîtâ, I have translated the term buddhi as “wisdom faculty.” It signifies illumined reason. Buddhi- Yoga is the path of Self-realization that applies discriminative wisdom, or higher intuitive knowledge, to all situations and conditions of life. For this reason, it goes hand in hand with Karma-Yoga. In the words of Lord Krishna:

  Renouncing in thought all actions to Me, intent on Me, resorting to Buddhi-Yoga, be constantly “Me-minded” (mac-citta).6 (18.57)

  “Me-minded,” you will transcend all obstacles by My grace. But if out of egotism (ahamkâra) you will not listen, you will perish! (18.58)

  The “Me-mindedness” spoken of here is of course not a form of egotism but the practice of placing one’s attention on the Divine. The “Me,” in other words, is God Krishna himself, not the human personality.

  In contrast to Râja-Yoga, which operates on the basis of a dualist (dvaita) metaphysics that distinguishes between the many transcendental Selves and Nature, the metaphysics of Jnâna-Yoga is strictly nondualist (advaita). As I have mentioned already, it is the path of the Vedânta tradition par excellence. It is the way taught in the Upanishads and is also known as the “road of wisdom” (jnâna-mârga). In the opinion of one scholar, Jnâna-Yoga

  is fundamentally different from all other forms and stands really unique in the history of the world. It is not the worship of God as an object different from the self and is not a discipline that leads to the attainment of anything distinct from one’s own self. It may be described as âtma-upâsana (the worship of God as one’s Self).7

  The practitioner of Jnâna-Yoga, who is known as a jnânin, can be said to treat willpower (icchâ) and inspired reason (buddhi) as the two guiding principles by which enlightenment can be attained. In the words of Proverbs (4:7), “wisdom is the foundation.” As this biblical book continues:

  Exalt her [i.e., Lady Wisdom], and she will exalt you; she will honor you if you embrace her. (4:8)

  She will place on your head a beautiful garland; she will bestow on you a crown of glory. (4:9)

  Keep hold of instruction; do not let go: Guard her, for she is your life. (4:13)

  In the Near Eastern wisdom tradition, to which Proverbs belongs, wisdom allows a person to distinguish between right and wrong or wickedness and to walk the path of righteousness. The Hebrew hokma (“wisdom”), corresponding to the Greek sophia, is about the maintenance of order, balance, and harmony. So is jnâna, which upholds dharma-dharma being one of the most important concepts of Hinduism. According to the Bhagavad- Gîtâ (4.7), Lord Krishna takes ever new incarnations in order to restore dharma in the world whenever the cosmic order is threatened by human hubris and ignorance.

  The Tripurâ-Rahasya (19.16ff.), a late but important Shâkta work on Jnâna-Yoga, distinguishes between three types of aspirant of Jnâna-Yoga, depending on the predominant psychic disposition (vâsanâ): The first type suffers from the fault of pride, which stands in the way of a proper understanding of the teachings of non-duality. The second type suffers from “activity” (karma), by which is meant the illusion of being an active subject, an ego-personality engaged in acts, which prevents equanimity and clarity as the basis of true wisdom. The third and most common type suffers from the “monster” of desire-that is, from motivations that run counter to the impulse toward liberation. Persons of this type, for instance, lose themselves in the hunger for power, the desire for fame, or in designs of sexual possession.

  The prideful type of Jnâna-Yoga practitioner can overcome his or her fault by cultivating trust in the teaching and the teacher. The type who thinks of himself or herself as a doer of actions is simply in need of grace. The third, impulsive type must make a concerted effort to cultivate dispassion and discrimination through study, worship, and frequenting the illumined presence of the sages. Most practitioners of Jnâna-Yoga fall into the third group: those who are still confronting desires and motivations that conflict with the impulse toward emancipation. They are struggling to discern the real and the unreal and to uphold the former in everything they do, say, and think.

  The Tripurâ-Rahasya (19.35) further states that the single most important factor of success is the actual urge toward emancipation. Philosophical study on its own is said to be like “dressing up a corpse.” It comes alive only through the desire for liberation, and that desire must be deeply felt and not merely based on casual fascination or delusions of grandeur. Above all, the urge toward Self-realization must translate into consistent daily practice in order to bear fruit.

  Depending on the practitioner’s efforts and personality, Jnâna-Yoga can manifest differently in different individuals; although, as the unknown author of the Tripurâ-Rahasya (19.71) is quick to point out, these differences do not mean that wisdom itself is manifold. Rather, jnâna admits of no distinction. Jnâna is not different from the transcendental Reality itself.

  This marvelous Sanskrit scripture next speaks of those jnânins who are liberated even while continuing to be present in the physical body. These great beings, called jîvan-muktas (“living liberated”), are quite unaffected by whatever dispositions or desires may arise in their conditional personalities. A second category comprises those advanced practitioners of Jnâna-Yoga who are so focused on the sacred work of self-transcendence that, in their single-mindedness, they appear to be mindless. These are the illustrious sages. Their “mindlessness” (amanaskatâ) manifests in a childlike quality that reflects their utter inner simplicity. They have no concerns or worries and no interest in acquiring knowledge or in displaying cleverne
ss. The mind is useful to them only insofar as it allows them to handle the practicalities of their lives. Gradually it is superseded by flawless spontaneity in all circumstances, without the intervening circuitry of the brain-mind.

  The path of Jnâna-Yoga, which has been described as “a straight but steep course,”8 is outlined with elegant conciseness by Sadânanda in his Vedânta-Sâra (15ff.), a fifteenth-century text. Sadânanda lists four principal means (sâdhana) for attaining emancipation:

  Discernment (viveka) between the permanent and the transient; that is, the constant practice of seeing the world for what it is-a finite and changeable realm that, even at its most enjoyable, must never be confused with the transcendental Bliss.

  Renunciation (virâga) of the enjoyment of the fruit (phala) of one’s actions; this is the high ideal of Karma-Yoga, which asks students to engage in appropriate actions without expecting any reward.

  The “six accomplishments” (shat-sampatti), which are detailed below.

  The urge toward liberation (mumukshutva); that is, the cultivation of the spiritual impulse. In Mahâyâna Buddhism the desire for liberation is kindled for the benefit of all other beings and is known as the “enlightenment mind” (bodhi-ciita).

  The six accomplishments are:

  Tranquillity (shama), or the art of remaining calm even in the face of adversity.

  Sense-restraint (dama), or the curbing of one’s senses, which are habitually hankering after stimulation.