Patanjali's Yoga Sutras

Endnotes Appendix Bibliog. Downloadable PDF

Literal translation: “Unwholesome cogitation—repelling it, the opposite becoming”

Meaning: “When negative thoughts disturb, repel them by empowering their opposite.”

A chant in English: “When doubts and bad thinking invade, wipe them away with their opposites.”

Definition: This is, in its simplest form, a suggestion that you often can break the power of a negative idea or feeling by thinking or feeling its positive opposite. This process does not mean that all bad can be destroyed by thinking nothing but good. However, sometimes you can stare into the depths of a bad feeling. And then you can banish it by thinking of its opposite. For example, you might deconstruct an emotion of hate by instead creating thoughts and feelings of love or comfort—a sort of emotional decision to turn the other cheek.

Comment: The use of the first word in this sutra, Vitarka, or “Unwholesome cogitation,” is very different from Patanjali’s use of it in the same word early, in Sutra 1.17. There he uses it in a very positive way as “reasoning.” This stark difference is another potential inference that the first five limbs of Astanga yoga may have been added here later. Even so, this sutra offers a strong useful lesson.

Madhya-adhimātrā duḥkha-ajñāna-ananta phalā iti pratiprakṣa bhāvanam

Literal translation: “Unwholesome cogitation: hurtings etc. performed, caused to be performed, or applauded—from desires, anger, or deluded viewpoints small, moderate, or extreme—grating pain and not knowing unending fruits. Thus the [need for] opposite becoming”

Meaning: “Negative thoughts are hurtful and violent truths when you think them, cause them to happen, or take pleasure in them. Whether you do so from your desires, angers, or false beliefs—in small, medium or large measure—they come from and lead to painful suffering and unending ignorance as they spread and ripen. Thus you should creaate opposite thoughts.”

A chant in English: “Your bad thoughts, no matter how small, hurt you and others always, whatever your reasons, spreading troubles and blindness that ripen beyond you.”

Definition: This sutra explains why you should replace negative thoughts with positive ones. If you don’t, you become a harsh rock thrown into not only your own pool of calmness but also the lake of society, spreading bad ripples everywhere. You can’t just fake positivity; you must be it, however hard you must work to learn it.

Ancient Hindu Ayurvedic medicine—and now Western medical science—teaches that excessive negative thinking not only can make you emotionally and psychologically unhappy and unbalanced. It also literally can make you more inclined to be physically ill and take longer to recover from sickness.

Comment: Certainly, avoiding a lot of negative thinking is good advice for an individual. What also is significant here is how the sutra explains that such thinking is a poison that spreads throughout society. It is the bad word left hanging in the air that stops conversation at an enjoyable gathering; the hurtful comment that someone remembers for years as a painful earworm; or the spontaneous loud, troubling declaration of emotion that others pick up and amplify, making it into a false rallying cry for thousands or millions through months or decades.

All this, says Astanga yoga, is why we need to counteract negative thinking. It is a version of the universal Golden Rule in many societies and religions: do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

Literal translation: “A no-hurtings-energy steadfastness: within its presence, enmity of others abandoned”

Meaning: “When nonviolence is established as a state of being within you, its very presence can cause your hostilities and those within others to dissipate.”

A chant in English: “Be one with Peace to melt anger within and without.”

Definition: This Yama begins a series of ten sayings—five Yamas and five Niyamas —that can be called the “ten stabilities,” also sometimes known as the “Ten Observations” or “Ten Virtues.” They are not rarified mystical or spiritual perfections; rather, they are practical states of thinking and acting that are within the power of almost everyone to do. They also are guideposts of ethical behavior, both outer (the Yamas) and inner (the Niyamas).

Comment: The first two “Limbs” of yoga have served for thousands of years as guidelines in Hinduism for all living beings. In this way, they resemble Moses’ Ten Commandments in the West’s Judaic, Christian, and Muslim codes, and similar simple, direct, yet deep guides in other cultures and religions.

Literal translation: “A truthfulness steadfastness: actions’ fruits resting strongly in it”

Meaning: “When honesty is established within you, your activities’ results can rely upon it.”

Definition: This sutra—the second of the stabilities, Observations, or Virtues—says that truth-telling is such a potent force that it almost seems to predict or cause what will happen. It does not mean, as some translations imply, that you control the future. Rather, truth-telling helps a more accurate version of the future to be seen.

For example, if I say, “The moon has been destroyed” on a night when it is invisible in its new-moon phase, then people will be confused when it reappears. But if I say, instead, “The moon is there but covered in shadow,” then this helps people more accurately understand the phases of the moon. Knowing this creates more clarity for everyone.

Historically, in the ancient Vedic scriptures, telling the truth was very important. Sutras translator the Reverend Jaganath Carrera says in his commentary on this sutra, “In Hindu tradition and mythology, there is a great emphasis on...keeping one’s word.... Before there were courts [and] the written word and contracts—there was one’s word.... Break your word and you became someone...not trusted.” This sutra helped codify, orally, the great importance of truth-telling.

Another important note about this sutra is its first word, which comes from Sat. This word means, for meditation, “the Peace of the holy”—or what in the West sometimes is called “The Peace That Passeth Understanding.” Thus “Truthfulness” is, ultimately, a state of perfected authenticity, honesty, or a best reflection on reality, resting in its own great calmness and simple quietude, outer and inner. In this state of being, telling the truth is neither a game nor a series of logical suppositions: rather, it is a knowing—being in harmony, a restful balance—of reality as you best are aware of it. It is not an abstract, ideological truth. It is, instead, a living kriya or “action.”

Comment: “Truthfulness” also helps you and others act to move forward in life more authentically and purely. Hindu mystic and Vedic scholar Sri Aurobindo says that as we rise to higher levels of consciousness, we forego lower fates to find ourselves in higher and better ones—thus we find freedom from these lesser mechanisms that control us.* A clearer and more perfect level of freedom awaits those who practice telling the best truth.

For example, if I have experienced deep love with my spouse, I might tell others, “You should marry so that you, too, can find love as I have.” However, if I have meditated deeply and learned more of the true nature of love, I might instead say, “The truth of the matter is this: profound love is available to everyone if they but look for it, whether in marriage, outside of it, or within.” And socially—ethically—saying this might release others to find strong love not just with a spouse, but also with friends and, indeed, in oneself, especially through the Self/Presence.

Literal translation: “A non-stealing steadfastness: all gems approaching”

Meaning: “When you establish non-stealing within you, life’s treasures appear.”

A chant in English: “Don’t wish for others’ possessions. Then you’ll find your own wealth.”

Definition: The traditional surface meaning of this sutra is, “Being grounded in non-stealing, all jewel(s) appear.” However, Feuerstein notes that “I.K. Taimni remarked, it ‘does not mean that precious stones begin to fly through the air and fall at [your] feet.’”

Most translators of this Astanga sutra agree that the deeper meaning is that by not stealing—or perhaps even by not desiring—others’ possessions, you will receive better treasures. They may be material goods, or perhaps they are a greater appreciation of the “gems” you already possess in your inner life.

For example, if you stop stealing or even desiring the fancier, more expensive clothes or vehicle your neighbor owns, you then will begin to better see and appreciate your own inner gifts of patience, tolerance, and even love. It is acceptable to admire the beauty or utility of others’ possessions, but, says the Eight Limbs, you should not spend a lot of your time doing so. Rather, learn to appreciate what you already have. If you really need something material for better yoga practice, it will find its way to you.

Comment: There is another possible symbolic meaning in this sutra. One way of translating the root words is this: “By practicing desireless-ness for what is around you, the ‘jewels’ within you will appear”; and these “jewels” might refer to the chakra energy wheels of Hinduism mentioned in Sutra 2.27 and its Endnote.” Astanga yoga precepts were developed in oral tradition about the same time that the Vedic scriptures were being developed. In those scriptures, precious stones, jewels, gems, and pearls sometimes are symbols for the chakras.

Or in the Rig Veda, Lord Savitar acts in like manner: “Borne in his golden chariot [body], Savitar, God who looks on every creature...moves by the upward path, the downward; with two bright Bays [horses], chariot decked with pearl, of various colours, lofty, with golden pole....”* In Kundalini yoga, the energy serpent Kundalini ascend and descends along the “golden pole” or spine. Two “bright Bays” or channels—called ida and pingala in Kundalini yoga—are close by on either side; and the chakras, “pearls,” indeed shine with “various colours.”

Literal translation: “Brahman (God)-related physical movements with steadfastness: subtle energy obtained”

Meaning: “When a spiritual physicality is rooted within you, you will acquire new vital energy.”

A chant in English: “Move your body with God to find the energy of the Presence.”

Definition: This sutra was mistranslated for well over a thousand years. Medieval times were tough throughout the world, and going to a monastery or even becoming a hermit often was safer than remaining in a pestilence- and war-plagued society, all of which was male dominated. Brahmancarya, or “celibacy,” came to mean “stop having sex.”

However, a deeper meaning of Brahman + carya from Vedic roots is “God movement”: physical movement with God. Spiritual dancers have it. So do those who sway and swing with the Spirit as they sing God’s songs or chant divine praises. Those whose physical body processes are working fully and well in healing flow during meditation also are “moving physically with God.”

Newer interpretations point to how brahmancarya also can be translated as “moderation.” Iyengar, for example, tells the story of “the great yogi Vasista” who “had one hundred children” but was considered chaste. “Continence or control in no way belies or contradicts the enjoyment of pleasure,” says Iyenger. It is when sensory pleasure is the sole motivating factor” that such continence “is infringed.”*

The second part of this sutra, equally important, is about how moving with God” provides more “subtle energy.” What, in Hinduism, is this subtle energy? It is the background essence of the universe that pervades you, body and soul, sending shivers up your spine and pleasant tingles on your skin; a flow like water or a fresh breeze in the body; and sudden increases in heart and pulse rates, even warming your body. It also is responsible for much of the pleasures felt during sex. On the negative side, it is the additional energy coming into you in waves of fear, anger, or frustration. All of these are powerful experiences, good and bad.

Comment: We live in a world with much stimulation of our energy, sexual, emotional, artistic, and intellectual. We are in, fact, bombarded so much that most of us have learned to desensitize ourselves. Though going to a monastery, mountaintop, convent, or cave can help us escape, few of us can—or even want to—take this option. Thus it becomes important to learn moderation in what we absorb, and what we do, so that our “subtle energy” does not fly off the scale, our emotions stay even, and our lives feel relatively stable.

Using anything other than very mild amounts of alcohol and drugs or engaging in anger and violence to help us balance our extremes of energy are bad for us. Science says that other forms of “relaxation”—the hypnotic effects of television, video games, and social media—also aren’t very healthy, except in very mild dosages.

Energy in the body works better, say hundreds of research studies, through meditation, exercise, time in nature or the sounds and sights of it, and even hot, relaxing baths (according to one Japanese study). Good sleep and eating also are important if you want to move with God.

Regarding sex, on the one hand, many scientific studies point to the benefits to the organs and body of an active sex life. One European study even suggests that near-daily orgasm in males lowers the incidence of prostate cancer.*

On the other hand, a life spent pursing it for its own sake is almost like a desperate plea by the person for the bodily pleasures of the spirit at any cost. Hindu and Buddhist scriptures about the jhanas (janas) and dharma megha (dammamegha) talk about intermediate and advanced yogis experiences of moderate to intense physical states of pleasure throughout the body when meditating.*

These sensations are different from—but not unlike—sexual pleasure. For medieval mystics, this physical joy from God sometimes may have been one of the hardest fruits of the spirit* to accept. Patanjali himself discusses dharma megha as an endpoint in the last five sutras of this book.

Finding that pleasure, though, requires moderation in many other ways in life. The pursuit of sex for its own sake—like the use of heroin and other drugs that provide an intense, almost sexual rush—brings with it disturbing physical results in the body and in life. Unregulated sex can lead to wildly unbalancing emotions for one or both partners and a forgetfulness of the spirit that underlies it. Again, in moderation, sexual feelings and experiences can lead to discovery of “moving with God.”

For meditation, such moderation means greater and more frequent general energy for living and focusing. In all things physical, “moving with God” is the ideal toward which to build.

Literal translation: “Nongrasping in standing: begettings, their ‘why’ knowing”

Meaning: “As you no longer hang on selfishly to belongings, feelings, and thoughts—and stand firmly in this—then your birth purposes (begettings) will become better known to you.”

A chant in English: “Let go of your ego so your past and future makes sense.”

Definition: This sutra means that if you let go of grasping what you possess, then the deeper purposes of your existence will become clearer. It doesn’t mean you must give away all your possessions. Rather, you must learn not to clutch at them for comfort, not as excuses, and not to create distractions. This applies both to external material objects and to internal ones such as selfish thoughts, emotions, and habits. Be willing to let them go, at first in meditation, then gradually in life.

Many of them may not have to go, as they may be useful or even necessary to the good you are doing in your life and your assigned jobs or responsibilities in it. But you must be willing, at least, to distance yourself from them enough that, if necessary, you could walk away from them in the search for living the complete truth.

Comment: Long ago there were three kings in three parts of India. The first, throughout his life, held his sword and his pouches of gold close to his body at all times, even as he slept. He killed others to keep his throne, and he died groaning because he couldn’t take his money and power with him to the afterlife.

The second king, as he grew in age and love of his family, gradually distributed all his gold and even his power over his ministers to his children. But as he lay on his deathbed, he was sad to see them fighting among each other and selfishly clinging to all the gold and the offices of leadership he was bequeathing them.

The last king undertook a long road of wisdom. He distributed his wealth among all of his subjects over the years, gave away his powers to so many leaders that they had to form a monthly congress to decide equally what to do in the kingdom, and died as a monk who owned only his own clothes and bed, content that his kingdom was in the hands of the many who would work together. Only some of his children were with him on his deathbed, but dozens of followers also were there, and all of them surrounded him with love for his wisdom, kindness, and selflessness as he passed away.

When you have begun practicing the Yama of “moving to God” in the sutra previous to this one, you find that it is not always easy to maintain the necessary clarity and energy for it. That is why this present Yama of “no longer hang[ing] on selfishly to belongings, feelings, and thoughts” becomes important. This Yama not only allows you to keep “moving to God”—both as a physical discipline and a life journey—and also helps you discover what your purpose in life is.

That is the existential question. Why are you here? What do you want to accomplish, to do, to be in this real life that you are living? Denmark’s Søren Kierkegaard, a famous 1800s existentialist theologian, said in his Concluding Unscientific Postscript that a person must make a “leap of faith” beyond normal thinking and feeling—a decision about who or what they are.

This Yama is saying that you already, on some level, have made that free choice. However, to find out what it is, you must raise your head out of the murky waters of life where you are submerged in self-centered possessions.

These possessions obviously include outer belongings. You don’t have to suddenly sell all you own and become a beggar. However, you need to not be so attached to them that you would feel like you are dying if you had to get rid of them. They are passing phantoms in the night, says this sutra. All—every “thing” —goes away eventually. Can you reach a point at which you can give them up?

But this applies not just to material goods. It also means inner “belongings.” Each person has certain thoughts—memories and ideas—that they cherish. They have specific emotions to which they regularly return to think about and feel. You don’t have to deny any of them forever: examine them at times, if you wish, to see if you understand more about them. However, if you constantly return to them, they become structures that trap you in a windowless room, or crutches on which you regularly lean, preventing you from more clearly seeing what your purposes in life are. You can learn to give them up for the duration of a meditation period. And then, gradually, you can let them go—at least most of the time—in your regular life.

One significant meaning of the final word in this sutra, sambodhaḥ, is “together with awakening wisdom.” The implication of this ancient word is that learning to be non-possessive inside and out leads to a blessed state of awakened awareness or wise knowing. This final thought thus concludes the five Yamas.

Sanskrit Text: Patanjali, c. 400 BCE-400 CE

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See also Meditationary.org, a Meditation Dictionary; and BodyMeditation.org, Introducing Yoga Meditation.

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