the body effortlessly riding the waves of the breath. At this point it is not we who move the body, but rather the power of prana. We become able to breathe into all parts of the body, which is equivalent to spreading the prana evenly throughout. This is ayama — the extension of the breath.
The fifth limb is pratyahara — sense withdrawal. The Maitri Upanishad says that, if one becomes preoccupied with sense objects, the mind is fueled, which will lead to delusion and suffering.6 If, however, the fuel of the senses is withheld, then, like a fire that dies down without fuel, the mind becomes reabsorbed into its source, the heart. “Heart” in yoga is a metaphor not for emotions but for our center, which is consciousness or the self.
In Vinyasa Yoga, sense withdrawal is practiced through drishti — focal point. Instead of looking around while practicing asana, which leads to the senses reaching out, we stay internal by turning our gaze toward prescribed locations. The sense of hearing is drawn in by listening to the sound of the breath, which at the same time gives us feedback about the quality of the asana. By keeping our attention from reaching out, we develop what tantric philosophy calls the center (madhya). By developing the center, the mind is eventually suspended and the prana, which is a manifestation of the female aspect of creation, the Goddess or Shakti, ceases to oscillate. Then the state of divine consciousness (bhairava) is recognized.7
The sixth limb is dharana — concentration. If you have tried to meditate on the empty space between two thoughts, you will know that the mind has the tendency to attach itself to the next thought arising. Since all objects have form, and the witnessing subject — the consciousness — is formless, it tends to be overlooked by the mind. It takes a great deal of focus to keep watching consciousness when distractions are available.
The practice of concentration, then, is a prerequisite and preparation for meditation proper. The training of concentration enables us to stay focused on whatever object is chosen. First, simple objects are selected, which in turn prepare us for the penultimate “object,” formless consciousness, which is nothing but pure awareness.
Concentration in Vinyasa Yoga is practiced by focusing on the bandhas. On an external level the focus is on Mula and Uddiyana Bandha (pelvic and lower abdominal locks), but on an internal level it is on the bonding together of movement, breath, and awareness (bandha = bonding). To achieve this bonding, we have to let go of the beta brain-wave pattern, which normally accompanies concentration. Instead we need to shift to an alpha pattern, which enables multiple focus and leads into simultaneous awareness of everything, or being in this moment, which is meditation.
The seventh limb is dhyana — meditation. Meditation means to rest, uninfluenced, between the extremes of the mind and suddenly just “be” instead of “becoming.” The difference between this and the previous limb is that, in concentration, there is a conscious effort to exclude all thoughts that are not relevant to our chosen object. In meditation there is a constant flow of impressions from the object and of awareness toward the object, without any effort of the will. Typical objects chosen are the heart lotus, the inner sound, the breath, the sense-of-I, the process of perception, and intellect, one’s meditation deity (ishtadevata) or the Supreme Being.
In Vinyasa Yoga, meditation starts when, rather than doing the practice, we are being done or moved. At this point we realize that, since we can watch the body, we are not the body but a deeper-lying witnessing entity. The vinyasa practice is the constant coming and going of postures, the constant change of form, which we never hold on to. It is itself a meditation on impermanence. When we come to the point of realizing that everything we have known so far — the world, the body, the mind, and the practice — is subject to constant change, we have arrived at meditation on intelligence (buddhi).
Meditation does not, however, occur only in dhyana, but in all stages of the practice. In fact the Ashtanga Vinyasa system is a movement meditation. First we meditate on the position of the body in space, which is asana. Then we meditate on the life force moving the body, which is pranayama. The next stage is to meditate on the senses through drishti and listening to the breath, which is pratyahara. Meditating on the binding together of all aspects of the practice is concentration (dharana).
The eighth limb, samadhi, is of two kinds — objective and objectless. Objective samadhi is when the mind for the first time, like a clear jewel, reflects faithfully what it is directed at and does not just produce another simulation of reality.8 In other words the mind is clarified to an extent that it does not modify sensory input at all. To experience this, we have to “de-condition” ourselves to the extent that we let go of all limiting and negative programs of the past. Patanjali says, “Memory is purified, as if emptied of its own form.”9 Then all that can be known about an object is known.
Objectless samadhi is the highest form of yoga. It does not depend on an object for its arising but, rather, the witnessing subject or awareness, which is our true nature, is revealed. In this samadhi the thought waves are suspended, which leads to knowing of that which was always there: consciousness or the divine self. This final state is beyond achieving, beyond doing, beyond practicing. It is a state of pure ecstatic being described by the term kaivalya — a state in which there is total freedom and independence from any external stimulation whatsoever.
In the physical disciplines of yoga, samadhi is reached by suspending the extremes of solar (pingala) and lunar (ida) mind. This state arises when the inner breath (prana) enters the central channel (sushumna). Then truth or deep reality suddenly flashes forth.
Why a Traditional Practice is Still Applicable
A peasant once spoke to the sage Ramakrishna thus: “I am a simple villager. Please give me in one sentence a method by which I can obtain happiness.” Ramakrishna’s answer was: “Totally accept the fact that you are a machine operated upon by God.” This needs to be deeply understood. It is through the belief that individuals exercise free will that ego is produced; and, in turn, ego produces suffering. In the Bhagavad Gita Lord Krishna states, “All actions are done in all cases by the gunas (qualities) of prakrti (nature). He whose mind is deluded through egoism thinks I am the doer.”10
This means that the entire cosmos, including our body-mind complex, is an unconscious machine operated upon by God. Our self, who is pure consciousness, is forever inactive. It merely witnesses. The giving up of the idea that it is we who act is echoed in the Yoga Sutra by Patanjali’s use of the term kaivalya. This final state of yoga is the realization of the complete independence of consciousness. Since it is completely independent, it has no way of influencing the world. Like a mirror, which simply reflects, consciousness can neither reject nor hold on to objects of its choice. Give up the sense of agency,11 says Krishna: “Only a fool believes I am the doer.”
The surrender of the illusion of free will is reflected in the vinyasa system by acceptance of the original system as expounded by the Rishi Vamana. Of course it is easy to make up our own sequences of asanas, and possibly commercial success and fame will result. But then we run the risk of falling for the ego, which says I am the doer and the creator. We are only pure consciousness — the seer, the witness, the self — which, as the Samkhya Karika12 says, plays no active part in this world.
That does not mean we cannot adapt the practice for some time if difficulties are to be met or yoga therapy needs to be practiced. We need to return to the original system whenever possible, though. Rishi Vamana’s system leads through outer structure and limitation to inner freedom. If we constantly practice self-made sequences, we create inner limitation through outer freedom.
The rishis of old did not conceive the ancient arts and sciences by trial and error. The method they employed was samyama, which combines concentration (dharana), meditation (dhyana), and absorption (samadhi). In that way, deep knowledge of how things really are can be gained. Patanjali himself explains in the Yoga Sutra how he gained his knowledge.