The Yoga Tradition
Page 56
Going to a water tank outside [the village] and bathing there, he should, with speech restrained and apart [from other people], eat the purified remnant [of food left over after making proper offerings to the deities], leaving no remnant himself. (19)
He should roam alone over the earth, unattached and with the senses controlled, delighting in the Self, playing in the Self, Self-possessed, seeing the same [Self in everything]. (20)
Sheltering himself in a secluded and protected [spot], his pure intention (âshaya) [focused] upon My being (bhâva), the sage should contemplate the singular Self as nondistinct from Me. (21)
He should consider the Self’s bondage and liberation through the cultivation of wisdom. Bondage is distraction (vikshepa) through the senses, and liberation is the control of these [senses]. (22)
Therefore the sage, restraining the six types [of senses, including the lower mind or manas], should roam [over the earth] with his intention (bhâva) on Me. Finding great delight in the Self, [he should be] dissociated from [all] lowly desires. (23)
He should roam over the earth abounding in virtuous countries, rivers, mountains, forests, and hermitages, entering cities, villages, herdsmen’s stations, and caravansaries [only] for the purpose of begging [alms]. (24)
He should go for alms mainly to places with hermitages of forest-dwelling [ascetics]. By [eating] grains or herbs, he achieves a pure mind (sattva), free from delusion. (25)
He should not perceive this [world], seeing that it perishes. With unattached mind, he should abstain from [all] purpose in this [world] and the next. (26)
“This world, mind, speech, and the group of life forces are all illusions (mâyâ) [superimposed] upon the Self.” By reasoning thus and relying on himself, he should abandon [these illusory phenomena] and not consider them [anymore]. (27)
Pursuing wisdom, without attachment, devoted to Me, unconcerned, he should roam about, free from rules, having abandoned the stages of life (âshrama) with their [respective] characteristics. (28)
[Even though he is] wise (buJlia), he should play like a child; [though] skillful, he should behave like a fool; [though] learned, he should talk like a madman; [though] educated (naigama), he should behave in cowlike fashion. (29)
He should not be fond of debating the Vedas, nor be a heretic, nor an arguer. He should not at all take sides in controversies over useless statements. (30)
The sage (dhîra) should not be agitated by people nor should he agitate people. He should be forbearing about insults and never harass anyone. In regard to the body, he should feel enmity to no one, like [peaceful] cattle. (31)
The singular supreme Self alone is in [all] beings, just as the [one] Moon is reflected in [many] vessels. [All beings] dwell in the Self, and [all] beings are of the [same] Self. (32)
Cultivating steadiness and relying on destiny, he should not be sad when he does not get food, nor be delighted when he does get some. (33)
He should desire food, [because] this is appropriate for the maintenance of life. By means of it one can reflect upon the truth, knowing which one is liberated. (34)
The sage should accept whatever food comes to him by fate, excellent or otherwise; similarly, [he should accept] whatever clothes and bedding are provided. (35)
The knower (jnânin) should practice cleansing, sipping [of water to rinse his mouth], bathing, and other disciplines, but not because of (any scriptural] prescriptions, just as I, the Lord. [do everything] as play. (36)
For him there is no so-called misconception and, [if he has any], it is removed by seeing Me. Until the termination of the body, [he enjoys] a certain vision [of Me]. Thence he is united with Me. (37)
The Self-possessed (âtmavan) who is disgusted with actions producing suffering [but who] has not inquired into My teaching (dharma) should go to a sage [who can serve him as a] teacher (guru). (38)
Intent on Me as the teacher, he should practice devotedly, with faith, and uncomplaining until he realizes the Absolute (brahman). (39)
The charioteer of the unruly senses, however, who has not restrained the six types lof senses, including the lower mind], who is without wisdom and dispassion, and [yet who] lives [the life of an ascetic carrying] the triple staff … (40)
… he, a destroyer of virtue (dharma), cheats himself and the deities (sura), as well as Me residing in himself. With his taints (kashâya) “uncooked” (avipakva), he is deprived of our [world] and the next. (41)
The lifestyle (dharma) of a monk [includes] tranquillity (shama) and nonharming, of a forest- dweller asceticism and [pure] vision (ikshd), of a householder protection of beings and sacrifice (ijyd), of a twice-born [brahmin] service to the preceptor. (42)
Chastity, asceticism, cleanliness, contentment, and kindness to beings are also a householder’s duties. Worshiping Me is desirable for all. (43)
He who worships Me thus constantly by [performing] his duties, and is devoted to none other and intent on Me in all beings, soon finds My love. (44)
O Uddhâva, by unswerving devotion, he comes to Me, the great Lord of all the worlds, the Absolute, the [ultimate] cause, the origin and end of all [beings and things]. (45)
With his being (sattva) thus cleansed by [the performance] of his duties, knowing My state, endowed with wisdom and knowledge, he soon attains Me. (46)
Associated with devotion to Me, this duty (dharma) relating to the estates (varna) and stages of life (dshrama) [and which is] marked by [proper] conduct, verily, is conducive to the highest (nihshreyasa), the Supreme. (47)
I have disclosed this to you, O friend, [which is] what you asked Me: how a devotee (bhakta) disciplined in [the performance] of his duties attains Me, the Supreme (para). (48)
The Alchemy of Hatred
Perhaps the most extraordinary teaching of the Bhâgavata-Purâna is the “Yoga of hatred” (dvesha- yoga), according to which a person who thoroughly hates the Divine can achieve God-Realization as readily as one who deeply loves the Lord. Sage Nârada, a frequent spokesman for the Bhâgavata religion, expresses it thus:
All human emotions are grounded in the erroneous conception of “I” and “mine.” The Absolute, the universal Self, has neither “I”-sense nor emotions. (7.1.23)
Hence one should unite [with God] through friendship or enmity, peaceableness or fear, love or attachment. [The Divine] sees no distinction whatsoever. (7.1.25)
Nârada goes on to mention Kamsa, who reached God through fear, and Shishupâla, king of the Cedis, who reached God through hatred. In fact, Shishu- pâla’s hatred was cultivated over several incarnations. He was the demon king Hiranyakashipu (“Gold-Cloth”), who tortured his son Prahlâda for his devotion to Vishnu, but was disemboweled by the God who assumed the form of Nara-Simha (“Man- Lion”). In another birth Shishupâla was the demon Râvana who was slain by Râma, an incarnation of Vishnu.
The idea that hatred can turn out to be a pathway to God, shocking as it is to conventional sensibilities, is a logical consequence of the ancient esoteric doctrine that we become whatever we meditate upon. The intense hatred that Shishupâla entertained toward Lord Vishnu had the effect that he thought about the Divine incessantly, and therefore ultimately became absorbed in it. This brings home the fact that the spiritual process is a matter of the play of attention. Of course, for such a powerful negative emotion to have a liberating effect, there must exist the right karmic preconditions as well. Absolute hatred is as impossible for an ordinary individual as absolute love.
The Devî-Bhâgavata
In connection with the great Bhâgavata-Purâna, at least brief mention must be made of the Devî-Bhâgavata. Although it is a prominent Shâkta work, it is modeled on the Bhâgavata-Purâna, and it illustrates the vital tradition of devotion among those who worship the Divine in its feminine aspect. This secondary Purâna was composed perhaps in the twelfth century C.E.
IV. THE GÎTA-GOVINDA
While the Bhâgavata-Purâna, true to its syncretistic Purânic character, deals with all kinds of theological,
philosophical, and cosmological matters besides telling the story of Krishna’s heroic life, the somewhat later Gîta-Govinda (“Song of Govinda”) is solely dedicated to celebrating Lord Krishna’s love of his favorite shepherdess, Râdhâ. The name Govinda is one of Krishna’s many appellations. It means literally “cow-fmder” and refers to the God-man’s occupation as cowherd in the Vrindâvana region. There is an esoteric significance to the name as well, since the Sanskrit word go not only means “cow” but also stands for “wisdom.” Thus, Govinda is the finder of gnosis (jnâna).
This Sanskrit poem by the twelfth-century Bengali writer Jayâdeva is a profound allegory of the love between the personal God and the human self, which has strong erotic overtones. It is expressive of a new trend in the Vaishnava devotional movement, coinciding with its expansion to the North of the Indian peninsula. Suddenly, great prominence was given to the figure of Râdhâ as an embodiment of the feminine principle of the Divine. Confiding in a friend, Râdhâ recounts her love adventure with Krishna thus:
Secretely at night I went to his home in a concealed thicket where he remained in hiding. Anxiously I glanced in all directions, while he was laughing with an abundant longing for the delight (rati) [of sexual union]; O friend! Make the crusher of [the demon] Keshin love me passionately. I am enamored, entertaining desires of love! (2.11)
I was shy at our first union. He was kind toward me, [showing] hundreds of ingenious flatteries. I spoke through sweet and gentle smiles, and he unfastened the garment around my hips. (2.12)
He laid me down on a bed of shoots. For a long time he rested on my breast, while I caressed and kissed him. Embracing me, he drank from my lower lip. (2.13)
I closed my eyes from drowsiness. The hair on his cheeks bristled from my caresses. My whole body was perspiring, and he was quite restless because of his great intoxication with passion. (2.14)
Râdhâ pines for her lover, as the awakened heart yearns for God. Reflecting the radical spirit of Tantra, the Gîta-Govinda extensively employs sexual metaphors to convey the bodily passion that the devotee feels when he or she contemplates God. In its erotic explicitness it surpasses the comparable literature of the bridal mystics of medieval Christendom.
V. THE BHAKTI-YOGA OF THE VAISHNAVA PRECEPTORS
The ecstatic devotionalism of the lvârs attracted not only the illiterate masses, who were moved by the lvârs’ strong sentiments of love, but also stimulated the intelligentsia to develop sophisticated philosophical doctrines revolving around the ideal of love (bhakti). The first of these learned Vishnu devotees was Nâthamuni, who lived in the tenth century C.E. He is said to have often walked about naked, chanting the sacred name of God Vishnu. Some scholars identify him with Shrî Nâtha, the author of several works, including the Yoga-Rahasya (“Secret Doctrine of Yoga”). Another important figure among the so-called “preceptors” (dearya) of Vaishnavism was Yamunâ, the grandson of Nâthamuni. He wrote six works, of which the Siddhi-Traya (“Triad of Perfection”) is the most significant. According to tradition, Yamunâ, who described himself as a “vessel of a thousand sins,” learned the eightfold Yoga from Kuruka Nâtha. It was Nâthamuni who had entrusted Kuruka Nâtha with this teaching for the benefit of his grandson. Interestingly, the modern Yoga master Tirumalai Krishnâmacharya, who died in 1989 at the age of 101, traced his lineage back to Nâthamuni. Shrî Krishnamacharya passed his teachings on to T. K. V. Desikachar (his son), B. K. S. Iyengar (his brother-in-law), Indra Devî, and Pattabhi Jois, who all have become great teachers in their own right.5
The most influential preceptor was unquestionably Râmânuja (1017-1137 C.E.), who sought to unite the Vaishnavism of the South and the North, and to some degree succeeded in doing so. Yamunâ, who had expressed a keen interest in meeting the brilliant Râmânuja, was dead by the time Râmânuja came to pay homage to him. Three of Yamunâ’s fingers were curiously twisted, and Râmânuja took this to be a final message to him. He understood it to mean that he should preach the Vaishnava doctrine of unconditional surrender, or prapatti, and write a commentary on the Brahma-Sûtra, as well as on many other works championing the Vaishnava faith as taught by the lvârs.
The visit to Yamunâ occurred after Râmânuja had been asked to leave the âshrama of his own teacher, Yâdavaprâkâsha, who was a learned but irascible man. His discipleship had been stormy, because he begged to differ from his guru on several doctrinal issues. Whereas Yâdavaprâkâsha avowed a strictly nondualistic interpretation of the Vaishnava scriptures, Râmânuja was at heart a qualified nondualist, believing that the Divine is not a mere distinctionless One but comprises infinite differentiation.
Râmânuja lived a long and eventful life, and his many works expounding the philosophy of Vishishta- Advaita formed the foundations of a comprehensive exegetical literature that offered the most serious challenge to the radical nondualism of Shankara’s school.
Râmânuja and his followers oppose Shankara’s notion that the experienced world of multiplicity is unreal. They place no faith in the doctrines of mâyâ (“illusion”) and avidyâ (“ignorance”), by which the Shankara camp seeks to explain the fact that, even though there is only the Absolute, we actually experience distinctions. If there were such an agent as ignorance, the followers of Râmânuja argue, it could not be located in the omniscient transcendental Reality. But if it is not located in the Absolute, it would form an alternative reality to it, which would completely undermine the idea of radical nondualism.
Râmânuja was an eager protagonist of Yoga, which he understood as Bhakti-Yoga. For him, the purpose of meditation is to generate love for the divine Person. He was consequently rather critical of Patanjali’s Yoga, which is not only dualistic but also aims at stilling the mind rather than turning the heart to God. Râmânuja was similarly wary of Jnâna-Yoga, as taught by Shankara, because in the beginner it tends to lead to intellectu- alism and self-delusion. In preparation for meditation, or the contemplative remembrance of the Divine, one should instead engage in Karma- Yoga.
From Râmânuja’s point of view, liberation is not the annihilation of the self but rather the removal of its limitations. The liberated being attains the “same form” as the Divine, though this does not imply the obliteration of all distinctions. Rather, liberation is conceived as a kind of fellowship with and in the divine Person—a condition of continuous love-devotion—but whereas the divine Person is infinite and the absolute creator of the universe, the liberated devotee is finite and has no power of creation. For Râmânuja, liberation occurs only after death. Love is the means and the goal, and it can and should be cultivated throughout one’s life on Earth or in any of the higher realms of existence.
Yogic teachings also played a role in the schools of the other four great Vaishnava preceptors—the Vedântic dualist Madhva (1238–1317 C.E.), the theologian of duality-in-nonduality Nimbârka (mid- twelfth century C.E.), the pure nondualist Vallabha (1479-1531 C.E.), and the ecstatic Krishna Caitanya (1486- 1533 C.E.), who argued that the true nature of Reality is imponderable.
These teachers and their numerous adherents all enlist the capacity for self-transcending love and surrender as the principal means of liberation. It is here that psychospiritual technology is the most artful and the least in danger of degenerating into crude manipulation of the body-mind, as is characteristic of some schools of Hatha-Yoga. Of course, the path of the heart, or Bhakti-Yoga, has its own risks, such as rampant irrationalism and unbridled emotionalism. It appears, however, to be inherently more conducive to a balanced approach by integrating the intellect with the feeling aspect of the psyche. The heart (hrid, hridaya) has from ancient times been acknowledged as a primary focus of the spiritual process. “The heart,” says a modern sage, “is the cradle of love.”6 And it is at the heart that, according to many schools and traditions, the great awakening occurs.
The bhakti movement gives feeling precedence over the intellect. This emphasis is best seen in the notion of bhâva. In the context of ordinary life, the term bhâva sign
ifies “sentiment” or “emotion,” which includes aesthetic appreciation. According to the Sanskrit dramatists, there are nine predominant emotions: love, joy, sorrow, anger, courage, fear, disgust, surprise, and renunciation.
In a spiritual context, the word bhâva denotes feeling-charged ecstasy or the ultimate mind-melting love- devotion experienced in the presence of, or in union with, the Divine. This elevated state is often referred to as mahâ-bhâva, or “great mood,” whose symptoms include spontaneous laughter, weeping, singing, dancing, and raving. At times, mahâ-bhâva resembles madness, and not a few Vaishnava ecstatics have called themselves madcaps because of the irrational behavior engendered by the intense emotion experienced during the ecstatic state.
A closely related concept in the Vaishnava tradition is that of râsa, a term which means literally “taste” or “essence” and here refers to the basic mood of a person or situation. Thus Vishnu devotees experiencing ecstasy are said to enjoy the mood of love (bhakti-rasa). The term was first introduced in connection with the dramatic arts, where it conveys the principal mood that integrates the various elements of a dramatic composition. Whereas râsa represents an objective sentiment, bhâva refers more to a subjective, personal mood. Just as there are nine types of bhâva, there also are nine corresponding types of râsa, which can be subjectively experienced through the bhâvas.
VI. JNNADEVA AND OTHER SAINTS OF MAHARASHTRA
One of the great Vaishnava adepts of the path of devotion, tempered by wisdom, is Jnânadeva (1275— 1296 C.E.). He was the second of four children born to pious but poor brahmin parents who lived in the village of Alandi near Pune (Poona) in Maharashtra, a country that has spawned many fine saints and sages. His older brother, Nivritti Nâtha, was a disciple of Gahini Nâtha, who belonged to the tradition of Goraksha Nâtha, the great Hatha-Yoga master and mahâ-siddha. He had been initiated at the tender age of seven, and in turn initiated Jnânadeva when he was still very young, definitely before his fifteenth year.