What is Knowledge

by Swami Krishnananda

In the specialised system of meditation, as we have it in the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, there is a novel and very interesting method prescribed for every student, which may be said to go directly into the heart of the matter. What is it that we are meditating upon? What does the mind think when it meditates? It may appear, as it is sometimes felt by most people, that the mind is blank and thinks nothing in meditation; but it is not blank or literally a nothingness, because the emptiness or blankness which the mind may seem to maintain is also to become a conscious experience.

In meditation, one does not become unconscious; and if one is conscious that the mind is not thinking anything, one must be clear as to what one is actually saying when making such statements. What do we mean by saying that we are conscious of nothingness? It is a statement whose meaning cannot be very clear so easily. It is a state of awareness. But if it is an awareness of a blankness or a nihil, then that blankness or zero has to become an object of consciousness. It has to become a content thereof.

While there is some great point in the teaching that the mind does not think anything in a state of meditation, it can easily be misinterpreted by novitiates. While the blankness may easily be identified with a cessation of all thought minus consciousness, turbidity or torpidity of mind can nevertheless be a state of stability because sattva and tamas have certain similar characteristics – namely, fixity, stability, and a sort of immovability, we may say.

Intense awareness may look like no awareness at all. Hence, the absence of any kind of consciousness may look like a state of intense concentration of mind. This is known as stabdha avastha, or the cessation of all activity of the mind. But cessation of activity need not necessarily be associated with a consciousness of that cessation of activity. We are not conscious that we are not active in the state of sleep. We are not active in sleep, but we are not conscious that we are not active. This is a very important demarcating point. The essential behind any worthwhile state of concentration of mind is the kind of awareness that is maintained.

Now we come to the point of the pre-eminent method prescribed by Patanjali, on which he does not expatiate too much, nor does he seem to enter into great detail about it, though this is the central point of his system of meditation. Whatever be the object of our meditation, let it be this or that, this particular thing we call the object of our thought is a peculiar blend of three characteristics. This definition of the object of thought is the novel instruction of Sage Patanjali. The three factors which contribute to make the object of thought what it is are to be understood carefully before one tries to concentrate or meditate upon that object.

What are these three features that go to constitute the object of thought? The object as such is something by itself. It maintains an existence of its own. It has a status which it maintains, as every one of us may be said to have a status of our own. We are something, in spite of there being no relationship of ours with anything whatsoever. When we are bereft of connection with everything, deprived of every possession, and reduced to the condition of a practical nothing in terms of external relationship, we may still be something in ourselves. Minus all external relations, we do not become a nothing. It is impossible for us to conceive that we can be a nothing at any time, under any circumstances. When we are rid of every possession and there is nothing that we can call our own, and there is nothing with which we can establish any kind of contact or relation either externally or internally, we are reduced to a barest minimum of what we are. Even that barest minimum of whatever we may be is something, and not nothing. This is what we call the status of a particular thing. That which remains in a particular thing even if it is divested of every kind of relationship or interpretative association – that barest substantiality of the very root of anything – is the status, or what we may call the ultimate reality of that thing. This is one feature of any object, including our own selves. This is one aspect or feature of the constitution of what we call the object.

There is a second factor which goes to constitute what we may say is the appearance of the object to thought or consciousness. This second feature is the characterisation or the definition of that object, in terms of which it is known as something, as distinguished from something else. A tree is different from a stone. That which distinguishes the tree from the stone is the conglomeration of characteristics which can be seen only in that thing we call the tree, and cannot be found in anything which is not a tree. When we say that there is ‘something’, we mean that this so-called ‘something’ is possessed of certain characteristics, or qualities, attributes, properties, by which we specify that thing by what is called psychological definition. Unless we have a psychological definition in our minds of any particular thing, that thing cannot be distinguished from something else. This differentia, or visesha, as it is called in Indian philosophy – this specialised heap of characters attributed to a particular thing which makes it possible for a perceiving subject to know that it is something distinguished from something else – is the second character, feature, of the object.

The nomenclature is one feature by which we know or think of a particular thing. The utterance of a particular name rouses in our minds the form of that object which is referred to by this particular name or definition. The association of the form of the object with this characterisation or nomenclature is so intense that it is not possible for a person to think anything else at that time, except that particular form which is supposed to be indicated by that definition. When I utter the word ‘tree’, you cannot think of a ‘stone’ or something else. It is impossible for you to think of anything else except that thing which is considered as ‘tree’ by everybody else. No other idea can enter the mind except the idea of that thing, which is to be known as that thing only because of the association of a given form with a particular nomenclature. This is a sort of limitation we impose upon the independent status of the object, and whether or not the object as such is concerned with that definition or nomenclature, for the percipient this is a very important particular thing.

We are all called by certain names, and we know how important that name is. The importance of our name is such that we cannot for a moment be dissociated from our name. “I am so and so; my name is such.” Now, we know very well how meaningless a name is when there is no necessity to define oneself in terms of that name. If we are alone somewhere, and we are not going to be known or seen or contacted by anybody, our name has no sense for us, because nobody is going to call us by that name and we do not require to be called by ourselves in terms of that name. So, it is possible under certain circumstances to be free from association of names, though as social beings, we have never been placed under those conditions where names are not necessary. However, it is not a total impossibility. The object that is known, therefore, independent of whatever it may be by itself, is also definable by certain relational characteristics – namely, name, nomenclature, word, definition.

The third feature which Patanjali mentions is the idea that we have about something. The conditioning of the object by the way of thinking is a very central point in philosophical studies. What is the relationship that mind maintains, or thought maintains, or consciousness maintains, in relation to what it thinks or knows? Does the mind determine the object? There are thinkers called Idealists who emphasise the conditioning power of the mind of the percipient, which influences the nature of the object of perception when it is perceived. The Idealist doctrine is that nothing can be known as it is, except in terms of the mould into which it is cast by the structure of the mind that thinks. Realism, which is opposed to Idealism, holds that objects are directly perceived by the mind, and the form of the object as known by the mind is not merely a duplicate, a copy, or a conditioned reflection of the object. It is a direct something, as it is in itself. However, we are not concerned here with these quarrels of the Realists and Idealists.

The point that yoga makes out in the context of meditation is that some interaction takes place between the object and the thought that thinks the object, whether or not this conditions that, or that conditions this. Now, the fact that there is an interaction taking place between mind and the object is to be taken into consideration, because any kind of interaction is a contribution that is made mutually by two parties. At least some contribution is made by someone, because every perception is a maintenance of a relation between consciousness and object. We have thought over this matter adequately on earlier occasions, and we have also seen how difficult it is to understand what sort of relation is maintained between consciousness and object. This relation has also been found to be a mysterious, intriguing something, which maintains an independence of some sort, so that it is able to distinguish between the percipient and the object. The relation between the seer and the seen cannot be identified either with the seer or the seen. We know very well what consequence will follow if it is going to be merged either with the seer or the seen. If the relation between the seer and the seen belongs only to the seer and not to the seen, there would be no relation between the seer and the seen, because it has already got merged with the seer. If it belongs to the seen and not to the seer, then also there is no connecting link between the seer and the seen, because it has become identified with the seen.

Somehow, the fact of the external perception of an object necessitates the operation of a third thing called relation, which can neither be identified with the seer nor with the seen. This situation implies that any perception of an object is not a simple entry of the object into the mind without any transformation taking place at the time of perception. This particular ideational transformation, which takes place in the perception of an object, is a third conditioning factor, which need not necessarily be identical with the independent character of the object in itself. The thing as such cannot be known as long as it remains totally outside the thinking process or is placed outside, external to the senses.

Thus, what is one to do in the meditation of an object? What is our purpose in meditation? What do we intend at all in our endeavour called meditation? Our endeavour is simple. We have to know the object as it is, and we wish to identify ourselves with it, possess it, control it, and know it thoroughly, root and branch. To know a thing as it is in itself can be said to be a real knowledge of the thing. To imagine some characteristics in something is not to know it as it is. To hold some opinion about a thing may be some kind of information, but we know very well how conditioned it is, and how hard removed it can be from the true nature of the object as it is in itself.

Patanjali says that if meditation is to be an attempt on the part of consciousness to know a thing as it is in itself, it has to be freed from the notion which one has about it, and also freed from the nomenclature with which it is characterised, or by means of which it is defined. I must know you independent of your name, and I must know you independent of the way in which I am able to think of you. This is not an easy thing, as we know very well. It is ordinarily impossible to dissociate a thing from its name. The idea of the name immediately jumps into the mind, and also the notion which one holds about that particular thing – it is of this nature, it is of this character, it is related to me in this particular manner, etc. – is also impossible to avoid.

How will we avoid it, if it is supposed to be an absolute necessity that knowledge of a thing as it is in itself is practicable and desirable? Everyone will accept that knowledge should be pure and unadulterated. Adulterated, conditioned knowledge is no real knowledge, and if true knowledge of a particular thing – or anything, for the matter of that – is desirable, and one thinks it is possible, it has to be freed from these external associations either by means of ideational thinking – holding of a notion about it – or from any kind of verbal definition.

Sabda, artha, jnana are the three terms used in the sutra of Patanjali. By artha he means the substantiality of a thing. By jnana he means the notion one holds about that thing. By sabda he means the characterisation of that thing by name or definition. So, freeing an artha – or a substance as it is in itself – from external associations, either by way of definition or ideation, is the first step. Perhaps it is the only step.

How do we do this? This is a great feat of the power of the will. A tremendous strength of will is necessary to free oneself from conditioning psychological factors when dealing with any particular person, thing, or even situation. A total dispassion of outlook may be called for. It has to be total, because there should not be any preconceived ulterior notion or motive in this attempt. It is not that I should know you as I want to know you, but I should know you as you would like to be known – also, as you would like to be known in the sense you really are, not in the sense you think you are.

Hence, appearance is to be broken through in order that reality may be penetrated and contacted in meditation. These are the secrets of what is called initiation in yoga, and are not details which are explained in any textbook. We will not find it in the sutras of Patanjali or any book on Vedanta or yoga, because while it may appear that it is clear to us, it is really not so, because it is not possible to make everything clear to a mind which is not prepared for this task of utterly clearing the path of its knowledge of an object. We are all, as human beings, accustomed to think of the world in a given fashion, and yoga tells us that this fashion should be overcome.