A Textbook of Yoga

by Swami Krishnananda

The desires of the sense organs are like diseases, and you have to cure these diseases—not by the allopathic method of an antidote which suppresses them, but by a method which is harmonious and not opposed. This is a subtle matter, mostly personal and difficult to imagine in these initial stages. The problems that you will face in meditation cannot be known now. Even if your practice goes on for months, or two or three years, you may not know what exactly the sense organs are capable of, because the senses will not interfere with you unless they begin to feel that you are bent upon doing some harm to them. If they think that your meditation is only a childish play and is not going to affect them in any way because they will still be given what they want, everything will go on well. But if you are serious in the matter and you are not going to think in the manner that the sense organs would like you to think, then you will see what they do. If instead of telling the creditor to come tomorrow or the day after, which is a palliative method, you tell him that he will get nothing, you will see what he does! Suppression is the worst of methods.

Diverting the attention is a little better than suppression, but the most beneficial process is sublimation. Sublimation is the melting down of the force of the sense organs into almost a kind of liquid of spirituality. The power of the sense organs is like a knot—granthis, as they are called. You are not asked to cut the Gordian knot, but to untie it gradually. Force should not be applied by the application of will. The meaning of the word ‘sublimation’ should be clear to you. It is eliminating the very cause behind the impetuosity of the sense organs.

Why do children behave in a naughty manner? There are turbulent children who behave very badly in school and at home. Their parents and teachers find it very difficult to handle them. Generally they slap the child on the cheek and say, “Keep quiet! This is not the way of behaving, idiot!” This is a very, very undesirable way of treating children when they are behaving boisterously or naughtily. The Montessori method is known to educationalists as a very understanding method. It is a happy process of psychologically entering into the feeling and the difficulty of the child, even if it behaves in an inhuman or unsocial way. Such a Montessori method may be psychologically applied to the sense organs, which are naughty children. They will never listen to what we say. They are truant; they will never go to school. They are bent upon getting what they want.

Sublimation is the most difficult of all methods; it requires tremendous understanding. Inasmuch as this understanding is the prerequisite for all practices in yoga and meditation, so much time was taken in our earlier lessons to consider the philosophical, metaphysical and the foundational aspects of the practice. Otherwise, we could have directly gone into meditation to sit and think something. That may have been quite all right; but really, it would not have been all right because, finally, sublimation—which is the prerequisite of the diversion of the sense energy into the meditational method—is possible only on a higher understanding of our relationship with the universe. The senses are impetuous because they do not understand what our relationship is with things. They want to grab things outside because, first of all, they think that the thing is really outside—which is not a fact. You have now understood why things are not really outside. Secondly, the senses insist on not only believing that things are outside, but that they are desirable and must be had. This also is a mistake in the way of thinking. It is not true that things are outside, and so asking for them is due to a mistake in the thinking itself. Secondly, it is not true that things are really desirable. That is also an emotional blunder. These two primary difficulties can be melted down by a process of sublimation, by a philosophical analysis of the structure of the universe with which we are connected in a vital, organic, living fashion.

Here is something by way of an introductory remark on the characteristics of externality that introduces itself somehow or other, willy-nilly, in your practices. This externality can also be considered as, finally, a kind of internality of the structure of the universe. All things are inside the universe; but to the sense organs, all things are outside. Even if they are considered as outside, are they also inside the universe? You are also inside. You see me sitting here outside and I see you sitting outside, but in the light of the inclusiveness of everything in the universal structure, we may say everything is also inside. Therefore, in a larger perspective, an external object can also be conceived as an internal something. The very external becomes an internal. It is also universal because everything is connected to everything else in the world. So a so-called external thing can also be an internal thing, and it can also be a universal thing.

If it is too difficult for you to think in this manner, let us consider the internalised something which is inside the body itself. This technique is adopted by those who take to methods of meditation associated with breathing or with the nervous plexuses in the body, called chakras, or even with sounds like anahata, as they are called—certain sounds that the prana makes when it moves inside. You can concentrate on internal sounds. If you close your eyes, and close both your ears tightly, you will hear some sound inside. It is not a sound made by contact of one thing with another thing, like a bell being rung. It is an internal bell. It is anahata sabda, as it is called. Ahata means struck, anahata means non-struck. It is a sound that is produced by not striking anything on another thing. It is an automatic rumbling sound of a very, very subtle, melodious nature, like the movement of clouds when they create a mild rumbling of thunder. Anahata sabda dhyana is one method of internal concentration.

The chakras, such as the muladhara, svadhisthana, etc., are also methods. They are all very good indeed, but should not be attempted without proper initiation because these centres get stimulated when they are bombarded with our thought or concentration; and when they get stimulated, certain forces are released. In the initial stages, the forces that are released are not very conducive. In the Puranas there is the story of Amrita Manthana, the churning of the ocean. When the gods and demons churned the ocean for nectar, what came out first was not nectar. Poison was the first thing that came out—fumes which burnt everybody. The deadly poison that arose in the beginning when the churning was going on for the sake of nectar could not have been tolerated by anybody in the world. We are told in the Purana that Lord Siva bravely drank it.

In the beginning, you will have before you only that which you do not like. You will think that nothing is happening, that the whole meditation process is a waste. This is also a kind of trick played by the mind so that you may not go on with it. But that smoke and dust is something that arises when you sweep the room for the sake of cleaning it. Do you not see dust rising up when you sweep the floor with a broom? But afterwards the dust settles, and the whole room becomes clean. The tamasic character of the personality manifests itself as these fumes—something detrimental, and very, very unpleasant. You will have unpleasant experiences in the beginning. In the most initial stages, you will have no experience at all; you will think that nothing is happening. If the concentration is very intense, you will have experiences even in a few months, but if it is dull, it may take years.

In the earliest of stages, there will be no experience. The practice will be just mechanical, like a religious routine. Afterwards, you will find some difficulties before you. Many difficulties are mentioned in the yoga shastras: pain in the body, distraction of the mind, inability to concentrate, and some kind of doubt as to whether it is worthwhile doing anything at all, or perhaps some mistake has been committed in the choice of the object, or whether this Guru is good or another Guru should be found. These doubts will arise in the mind, and you will find that nothing is moving forward. The tamasic nature manifests itself in this way. If you have somehow succeeded in overcoming it, the rajasic nature will come and throw you out of gear completely, and make you run here and there searching for better places than the present one. “This place is no good, that place is no good, this method is not good,” and so on. You will be doing something in a perfunctory and desultory manner. Such is what happened in the Amrita Manthana, or the churning of the ocean. In the beginning it was deadly poison; then tempting objects such as jewels started coming out—attractions, beauties, which thrilled the gods and demons both.

So, what do you get in meditation? In the beginning you get tremendous opposition, so that you may not do anything at all. Then temptations arise: this is good, that is good, all that is good—but not really good. Meditation on these chakras may stimulate tamasic or rajasic forces. You may become wild in your mental performance. People become abnormal in their behaviour. They become irascible, angry and upset over even the littlest of things, and look upon everybody with suspicion. They have abnormal desires. People become kleptomaniacs, sometimes. Even very well-to-do people who are living a very good life can steal a pencil from your table. This is an irritation of the senses that is created by certain unknown suppressions. These things, among many other things which I will not explain here, may become the consequence of unintelligently concentrating on the chakras. This is why Swami Sivanandaji Maharaj very wisely used to say that this kind of meditation on the chakras, the kundalini method, is not meant for people with desires in their minds. And who has no desires? Everyone has desires.

Therefore, a more polite, harmonious, sublime, pleasing, loving method of bhakti, or love of God, may be a safe object of meditation. Do not consider bhakti as an inferior method. It is love of God; and without love, without affection for that which you seek, the progress will be retarded. Only that which you want will come to you, that which you do not want will not come to you; and wanting is nothing but an expression of affection.

The internal method, to which I made reference, can also be a concentration on internal structures like chakras, etc. But it is to be carried on with great caution under a competent master. Otherwise, give up that method. Do only japa of a Divine Name, with concentration on the Devata or the deity of that mantra, which will do you immense good. This is about the internality of the object which otherwise looks outside.

I also mentioned that which is outside and that which inside is essentially a universal object. The universality of a thing, when properly conceived, will put a check upon all irregular activities of the sense organs, because the senses will not ask for that which is everywhere. They want only that which is in some place; they are exclusive in their demands.

The best method of sublimation of the sense powers is to introduce universality into the concept of the object of meditation. Let it not be outside or inside, because they will take advantage of this little finite concept. Whatever be the object of your meditation, it is finally a symbol of universality. This is the important factor because then the sensuality behind it will automatically get eliminated.

These are certain recipes for you in your practice of daily meditation, for a purpose which is higher than yourself, higher than what you see in human society, higher than this world of perception. This is the way to God-realisation, finally.