The post OM: The Pranava appeared first on Integral Yoga® Magazine.

Before each meal at Satchidananda Ashram–Yogaville, and at all Integral Yoga Institutes and Centers, a meal prayer is recited. The prayer is in the ancient Sanskrit language, renowned for its profound and calming vibrational qualities. By offering a prayer before meals, we are reminded of several things: We eat to live (rather than living to eat). We have gratitude for the many blessings in our lives. We take a few moments to calm the mind and prepare the body to receive nourishment.

This meal prayer (known in Sanskrit as “Annapoorna Stotram”) was composed in the 8^th Century by the great sage Adi Shankaracharya. The prayer is then followed by the English translation given by Sri Swami Satchidananda*:

THE MEAL PRAYER: “ANNA POORNE”

OM Annapoorne Sadhaapoorne
Shankara Praana Vallabhe
Jnaana Vairaagya Siddhyartham
Bhikshaam Dhehee Cha Paarvati

Mathaa Cha Paarvathee Devee
Pithaa Devo Maheshwaraha
Baandhavaah Siva Bhaktaaha
Swadeso Bhuvana Trayam
Hari Om Tat Sat Brahmaarpanamastu
Lokaa Samastaah Sukhino Bhavantu

OM Beloved Mother Nature,
You are here on our table as our food.
You are endlessly bountiful,  benefactress of all.
Please grant us health and strength, wisdom and dispassion,
to find permanent Peace and Joy, and to share this Peace and Joy
with one and all.

Mother Nature is my mother,
My father is the Lord of All,
The whole creation is my family.
The entire universe is my home.
I offer this unto OM, that Truth which is universal.
May the entire universe be filled with peace and joy, love and light.

Jai Sree Sadguru Mahaaraaj Ki Jai!
May the Light of Truth overcome all darkness. Victory to that Light!

*Listen to Swami Satchidananda recite the meal chant in Sanskrit.

The post Yogic Meal Prayer appeared first on Integral Yoga® Magazine.

Most of us, most of the time, tend to be at the effect of the unconscious operation of language. To make the point, let me describe a language exercise that I have done with thousands people to date. I ask a group of people to listen to some very simple Sanskrit sounds, sung in a rhythmic sequence, and then individually duplicate the sounds, based upon what they heard. I also make it clear that this is not an exercise in which it’s important to get it right, and should anyone not remember a part of the sequence, he / she should simply make something up — fill in the blank. I also suggest that everyone should just have fun doing the exercise, and stay with the rhythm. Once we’ve been through several rounds, I ask everyone to describe what they were thinking, while doing the exercise, which was other than just simply listening and duplicating or making up sounds. Although I have done this exercise more than a hundred different times, in many different locations, I have always found the results to be practically identical. We are so completely consumed by the idea of “getting it right” and the approaching moment of “my turn” that there is little space left to actually listen and enjoy the sounds. This overriding preoccupation with getting it right is accompanied by an endless barrage of strategies, evaluations, comparisons, judgments, expectations, hopes, rationalizations and fears of consequences. By writing down this list of what everyone was thinking, the unconscious operation of language becomes visible. Most people are not aware they are thinking all this until they see the language of it written on a flip chart.

But this is just peeling away the first layer. There’s a still deeper layer of the unconscious operation of language where we have predefined who we are, based on whether or not we get it right. This can be seen by making a list of the apparent implications and consequences of getting it right and getting it wrong.
if I get it right . . .

* I am a smart person.
* I am a competent person.
* I am accepted and respected.
* I am likeable and lovable.
* I am a skillful person.
* I am a powerful person.
* I can make money.
* I am a success.
* I am a winner.
* I am better than others.
* I can be happy.
* I have choices and options.
* I am in control.
* Others cannot control and dominate me.
* I will not be abused, the victim of others’ cruelty.
* I will not suffer and die.

if I get it wrong . . .

* I am a stupid person.
* I am an incompetent person.
* I am unworthy of respect.
* No one could like or love me.
* I am a klutz.
* I am powerless.
* I am doomed to poverty.
* I am a failure.
* I am a loser.
* Others are better than me.
* I’m doomed to misery.
* I have no choice, no options.
* I am a victim.
* Others will control and dominate me.
* I will be abused, the victim of others’ cruelty.
* I will suffer and die.

The above is a perfect example of a non-sacred model of language. We could call it a “dominate and survive model of language” or simply a “survival language”. What is most striking about this model of language is that who I believe myself to be is determined by whether or not I get it right. The other most distinctive feature of a survival language is the utter falseness of the conclusions it is used to arrive at. It’s certainly not true that we are either smart or stupid because we do or do not get something right, let alone that we would live or die.

We are given every opportunity to simply have a good time, improvise, play with sounds. But instead we choose to take it as a test of survival. In other words, it’s more important to prove our capacity to survive than it is to have a good time. The hidden unconscious language that we base our lives upon, dictates to us that we must get it right or we will be dominated by others, and that threatens our safety, our well being and ultimately our survival. The first sign of a non-sacred, survival language is that it refers to “getting it right” as “smart”, as “success” etc. Such a language defines a person by the way he/she performs in a particular circumstance. The person is always at the effect of the language. If I get it right, I’m smart. If I get it wrong, I’m stupid.

The problems and conflicts that occur with a survival language are myriad. To be happy, I must get it right all the time. And my primary motivation for doing so is to prove that I’m not stupid so others won’t control me. My motivation for whatever I do becomes essentially a negative one. Since I can’t get it right all the time, I either have to have a strategy for getting better than others and than I have been previously — faster; or I must withdraw from circumstances which could potentially make me look stupid. The problem with “getting better” is that I become programmed to always be getting better, but it’s never good enough. Getting better is an endless proposition. This survival model of language has conflict and suffering woven into its very fabric.

This particular phenomenon is defined in the Yoga Sutras as avidyaa, the fundamental lack of awareness which is the root klesha, or subtle cause of all suffering. The definition of avidyaa is:

anitya-ashuci-duhkha-anaatmasu nitya-shuci-sukha-aatma-khyaatir avidyaa

Avidyaa is an identity with a self which is not the self; with happiness in what is actually suffering; with purity in what is really impurity; and permanence in what is really impermanent.

Avidyaa perfectly describes the nature of a survival language. A survival language is steeped in avidyaa. As long as who I am, is defined by such a language, I remain the victim of an endless vicious circle.

The question is — why would we choose a language which keeps us in perpetual self-judgment. The fact is that we never chose the language. It has always been around, and as children, we were given no other options. As long as we do not consciously redesign the way we use language, we remain at the effect of the past, conditioned by the very language of the past to repeat the patterns of the past, again and again.

As long as this survival model of language is in effect, it seems virtually impossible for people to learn Sanskrit. This is to a large degree due to the fact that Sanskrit is a perfect model of a sacred language, and a sacred language cannot be learned by means of a survival language.

This is not to say that English or any other language could not be used as a sacred language. In fact, it has to be, to begin the study of Sanskrit. Conversely, Sanskrit could be used in a survival mode. It’s just that in the design of most languages, there is very little safeguard against them being used as survival languages. And in the design of Sanskrit, there is every conceivable feature built in to keep it operating as a sacred language.

The single most outstanding difference between a sacred and a survival language is the definition, orientation and usage in the language of the word “I”. “I” or its equivalent is the source of language. Without I, there is no you, he, she or it. The evolution of the word “I” into a complex language is a process of creation. In the development of a sacred language, the process is a conscious one; language is an emanation, a creation, an instrument of “I”. In a survival language, “I” is an effect of the cultural patterns already unconsciously established by the language. In Sanskrit, even the sounds which make the word for “I” are consciously selected. AHAM. “A” is the first spoken sound, as well as the first sound of the Sanskrit alphabet. It can be discovered by breathing, in and with the mouth slightly open, releasing the breath with sound that requires the minimal effort. It naturally arises in the throat before the articulation of all other sounds. “HA” is the last letter of the Sanskrit alphabet. After all the systematic patterns created by the movement of the tongue and lips have produced in perfect order all the other letters of the alphabet, the final sound is “HA”. It also is the only consonant sound that moves by the power of the breath alone, and the only consonant in exact proximity to “A”. The final letter “M” is the very last sound produced in the mouth, because it occurs due to the closing of the lips. In Sanskrit, AHAM is the beginning, the breath of life which brings forth creation, and the end. And this is expressed not just symbolically by the letters A-H-A-M, but physically, based on their location in the mouth.

The other most important attribute of a sacred language is that each of its individual sounds are regarded as sacred. Anyone can feel this by getting relaxed and repeating the AHAM, over and over, and while doing so, feeling a complete all-encompassing expression of self. Then, becoming silent, continue to feel “A” as the inhalation and HAM as the exhalation. “A” is the only sound which is truly internal. “HAM” is the most complete expression possible, arising directly from “A”, and closing after passing through all the positions of all other existing sounds. The design of a sacred language is such that the sounds perfectly express the vibrational essence of that which they describe. In this way, words establish knowledge and understanding directly.

The next stage of establishing a sacred language is an intimacy with the other sounds of the language, becoming familiar with their exact location, savoring their delicacy, feeling their force and power, and the unique way they vibrate the body and atmosphere. This is simply a matter of enjoying sound without inhibition, as we did when we were children. In the process of learning the Sanskrit alphabet, one discovers that all sounds are encompassed in “AHAM”. As other words are created, the sounds which compose them become the means by which “I-AHAM” establish my relationship of unity with, rather than separateness from, all existence

by Vyaas Houston, M.A.

Vyaas (Tuck) Houston is the founder and director the American Sanskrit Institute. After teaching Sanskrit and Yoga for more than 15 years, he discovered in 1987 a successful method for teaching Sanskrit based on the Yoga model of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras. His Sanskrit Training has provided thousands of people with the opportunity to discover their own unique relationship with Sanskrit. Vyaas Houston is the author of Sanskrit by CD and the Sanskrit Atlas 1.0, and has recorded and translated many Sanskrit classics.For more information: www.americansanskrit.com

The post Sanskrit: a Sacred Model of Language, Part 1 appeared first on Integral Yoga® Magazine.

Many of the universal chants sung in the Integral Yoga Institutes, as well as the ancient Yogic scriptures, are in the Sanskrit language.

”He who knows my grammar knows God,” said Panini, the great Sanskrit grammarian and philosopher of ancient India. ”He who would track Sanskrit to its lair must indeed end as omniscient, said Paramahansa Yogananda.

The word Sanskrit itself means ”polished” or ”complete”. Sanskrit is the most perfect of all languages; it is the mother of all Indo-European languages.

Its alphabetical script is called Devanagari, which literally means “divine abode” or the language spoken by the divine people. It is said that Sanskrit was revealed to the ancient rishis, or wise men, of India by God. Panini said that his grammar was revealed to him by Siva.

The Sanskrit alphabet, ideally constructed, consists of fifty letters, each carrying a fixed invariable pronunciation. Correct pronunciation is crucial to Sanskrit learning. Sanskrit is the science of vibrations, and to create the right vibration we have to give the right pronunciation.

By Devendra Chowla

Source:  “A Introduction to Sanskrit—Lesson II,” Integral Yoga Magazine archives (1972)

The post Sanskrit: Divine Abode appeared first on Integral Yoga® Magazine.

The chanting of Sanskrit as preparation to meditation is the vehicle. It tunes the body, mind and senses to a finer frequency and then provides the road map, ancient truths concisely stated in exacting terms that glide through the mind with a minimum of effort. The trip goes especially smoothly when absorbed in the beautiful elegance of sound, chanted aloud or whispered silently within, giving birth to meaning that points the way. Sanskrit, like anything else can turn into a commuter’s monotony, where in spite of beautiful scenery, the driver has his mind on other things. If it becomes mechanical, one can forget to look, or listen.

The definition of Yoga that appears at the beginning of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras is a perfect example of terminology that is as technical with regard to the process of yoga meditation as the mathematical equations that define the behavior of atoms in the field of physics. For example: Yoga = citta-vrtti-nirodhah is as fundamental to Yoga as e = mc2 is to physics.

Without understanding the word “citta”, the equation can’t be grasped. There are no English equivalents for citta. To substitute an English word like “mind” or “mindstuff” makes a genuine understanding of Yoga virtually inaccessible. To leave the word citta as it is and make an enquiry into its meaning by contemplating its use throughout the Yoga Sutra text leads to meaning as rich in dimension as life itself.

Citta is the individual life field, normally defined by, but not limited to the parameters of the physical body. It consists of the purest and subtlest form of matter/energy (sattva guna). Although any form of recording, from film and tape to micro chips offers a metaphor for citta’s capacity to record the infinitely complex multidimensional experience of life, they are crude by comparison. On the one hand, it’s strange that we should be so compelled to have the finest and the fastest means of recording impressions of life through digital technology, when each of us already possesses an existing system that no advancement in technology will ever be able to duplicate. On the other hand, it’s likely that our obsession or passion for clarity and speed of reproduction is based upon our great need — to experience and utilize our own citta’s capacity in its pristine state to sense and record the finest and subtlest experience that life has to offer. This use of citta is precisely what Yoga is all about from beginning to end.

Citta is like a movie screen, in the sense that when the movie is playing we’re not aware of the screen. The difference being that while the screen remains the same size, citta can take the form of anything from the smallest particle (paramanu) to an infinite magnitude (parama-mahattva). Citta can be focused anywhere, in any location (dharana) and sustained continuously in a single location (dhyana). This means that citta can illuminate any form of matter or energy by taking its form, as if having no form of its own. This is the meaning of the Yoga term samadhi.

Citta is ever-changing. From the perspective of Yoga its changes are viewed as a progression (krama) consisting of linked moments or ksana, which measure the time it takes an atom to move from one position to the next. The beginning of citta is unknown. Its end point represents kaivalya perfect self-knowledge.

Citta is programmable. It behaves in whatever way it is programmed or habituated to behave. If it is not consciously directed it will conform to the activities (vrtti) that have shaped it in the past (vrtti-sarupyam). This is very much like a default selection.

Thus, prior to Yoga, changes in citta are programmed by habits; physical habits, mental habits, sensory habits — all of which create repetitive patterns of experience, some pleasurable, some painful, but all contributing to a limited sense of self (citta being confined to the definition of the body). It could be said that the changes occurring in citta are painfully slow. Yoga is a process of terminating the habitual activities which have been seen to be painful. This is referred to as nirodha, another term better left un-translated.

Of all the ways Patanjali could have defined Yoga , he chose the word nirodha — “Yoga is nirodha”. Nirodha is the force that continuously purifies citta. I use the word “force” in the sense of “force of habit”. Nirodha is the only force greater than that of habit — specifically the habits that perpetuate citta in a constricted and clouded state. Nirodha is the new program for citta, that prevents the old from operating and reestablishing itself. It does so by two means: 1. vigilance in keeping citta forcused (abhyasa) and 2. the full awareness of one’s own power of choice to disconnect and free oneself from the force of previous habits (vairagya).

Nothing less than the combined power of abhyasa and vairagya can establish the force of nirodha, and make it strong enough to override the complex programming of self preservation and survival, all the mechanisms an individual has developed to seemingly preserve security, repeat pleasure, avoid pain and deny an inevitable death of one’s body.

Since the old program is based on millions of years of evolution it does not quit easily. Yet, as long as I define my life by the lifetime of my body, I can’t and won’t stop brooding over my own survival plan. In order to abandon it I must see that it truly offers no hope for happiness or fulfillment. I must also have something to replace it with. Here the gift of Sanskrit along with Patanjali’s mastery in composing through that medium provides a vision of great clarity and simplicity. The work itself is a guide book that provides all the necessary insights and practices for replacing the old with the new. But more than anything, the successful installation of the Yoga model depends on understanding the concept of citta, for it is the progression of citta that ultimately replaces my former identity.

As with the body, there is an end to the sequential progress of citta. Since Yoga is the process of consciously terminating activities (vrtti) which define and limit citta, this process results in the experience of citta in a purer and purer condition. When nirodha has become the most powerful force in the progression of citta, inevitably a final nirodha takes place. When this occurs, citta is in a pristine state, so pure that it can only record its own purity. Its mission accomplished (krtartha), devoid of it’s purpose of providing a field for the Self (purusartha-shunya), citta recedes into a state of dormancy (pratiprasava) and then the power of pure awareness (citi-shakti) abides in its own essential nature. The long journey of citta is fulfilled.

The stunning contrast between the two models is that whereas in the individual survival program the end of the body is feared and held at bay, in the Yoga model, the wrapping up of the journey of citta is actively pursued, knowing that the terminal point of citta represents freedom, kaivalyam.

By Vyaas Houston, M.A.

Vyaas Houston is the founder and former director the American Sanskrit Institute. After teaching Sanskrit and Yoga for more than 15 years, he discovered in 1987 a successful method for teaching Sanskrit based on the yoga model of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras. His Sanskrit Training has provided thousands of people with the opportunity to discover their own unique relationship with Sanskrit. Vyaas Houston is the author of Sanskrit by CD and the Sanskrit Atlas 1.0, and has recorded and translated many Sanskrit classics.

The post Sanskrit: The Language of Enlightenment appeared first on Integral Yoga® Magazine.

To hear Dr. M. A. Jayashree chant the

Integral Yoga Magazine (IYM): What are the benefits of chanting the Yoga Sutras?

M.A. Jayashree (MAJ): Chanting the Yoga Sutras has a two-fold benefit. Once you have begun studying the Yoga Sutras, memorization helps in recalling the appropriate sutra in times of doubt—whether you have a doubt about your own experience or you are down because your Ashtanga practice is not progressing well. The repeated browsing mentally of the sutras’ ambiance (manana), in a certain state of mental quietude, will help in getting a flash of the real meaning and also produce the “Aha” experience—perhaps we can call it a three-dimensional understanding. Chanting and memorizing is vital for our knowledge to become wisdom. Whatever texts you study, chanting reveals itself to you in time. It is a kind of tapas, where we bring the physical mind, the rational mind and the emotional mind to a single point. There, not just understanding, but revelation happens!

IYM: What is special about Sanskrit as a vibrational language and chanting the Yoga Sutras aloud?

MAJ: In India, the ancient seers were not satisfied to have a language that was just a means of communication for day-to-day activities. They wanted a language that could touch and transform the spirit too. For this purpose they created an oral tradition called the Srutiparamapara, wherein a strictly prescribed way of listening and pronouncing the sounds, syllables, combination of syllables, words, sentences, passages and the complete sets of knowledge systems enabled the transfer from the teacher to the pupil without distortions.

The Vedic seers were also interested in chanting as the basic means of modifying the spirit, so they perfected the language, namely Sanskrit. The perfection of a language, along with the methods of rendering, leads to the effective means of communication of the knowledge at the rational level and also an attempt for a subtle transformation of the spirit at the deeper emotional and spiritual level. This was achieved by the wise combination of the sound value, the rhythm and the tune associated with the learning of the texts. This transformation has been so effective, even after five thousand years, it can be felt by those who chant, which makes superfluous the knowledge of the language to understand the meaning of the text!

Chanting aloud helps in clearing the voice and lungs, and it helps you to listen to your own voice. Repeating the same word sequence helps the mind to remember the text easily. The mind has a fantastic capability to remember the sequence of words and sentences even without knowing their meaning. This builds a link between different cells in the brain. In this age of visual predominance, this practice hones the listening skills tremendously. It brings total attention in listening. It brings perfection in pronouncing the text. It utilizes all the vocal organs, improves memory and works to extend the breath fully, leading to pranayama and a deep, meditative state. Just the sequence and combination of syllables and the vibrations produced transforms the personality.

IYM:  If someone wants to study the Yoga Sutras, what is the best way to start?

MAJ: There are three levels in the methodology of the study of the Yoga Sutras. The first is the regular practice of Ashtanga Yoga, as mentioned by Patanjali, which includes the practice of yamas and niyamas, the most vital part of the journey for emancipation and liberation. Patanjali says that Yoga has to be practiced without interruption, for a long time and with a firm, positive faith that the practice will get the results. The next two levels address how we gain this firm faith in our practice. Level Two involves the memorization of the Yoga Sutras through chanting, whereby a deeper understanding of the blueprint of the journey to be undertaken to reach liberation, or kaivalya, will occur. Thirdly, the repeated chanting done religiously, helps in catalyzing the process of evolution, with knowledge being replaced with revelation.

IYM: What is Maharishi Patanjali’s main message?

MAJ: It’s to show how humanity, with a voluntary practice, liberates itself from all the miseries of the world and evolves to the highest state of consciousness—an eternal state of bliss and awareness. This can be had, not by an external journey but by an internal journey. According to Patanjali, you are an abode of the divine whose expression is unalloyed bliss. The goal of Yoga is to have a perfect mind in a healthy body and then to enjoy liberation in this sensory world as well as in life beyond.

Liberation is not just enjoying the same pleasures of life on this earth in unlimited ways elsewhere after death. It is to escape entirely from this cycle of births and deaths and to stay forever in an undisturbed state of bliss. In theistic terms, it is to enjoy The Being, to be in a state of eternal communion with God, as God is nothing but unalloyed bliss. God, in Patanjali’s terms, is Ishvara or Purusha-visesa—neither affected by joy nor sorrow, nor by inner compulsions nor reactions to the results of his or her actions. To enable the human being to come home, instead of being a wanderer buffeted by limited sorrows and joys of life, is the goal of Yoga. It can be gained by practice and determination. It needs no additional paraphernalia except the will to travel inward and the grit to persist in practice.

Patanjali’s system is basically a mind-oriented system. In the second sutra, he makes it clear that he is going to tackle the problems that we face as human beings through a mental approach: Yogah citta-vritti-nirodhah. It is a system where the mind becomes the core and all other factors like body, feeling, emotions and society become secondary. The eight limbs that he prescribes are to gain total freedom from all drives and needs and also to have the capability to withstand repercussions that result from indulging in the whims and fancies of our mind. By mastering the drives, one feels liberated instead of being controlled by these desires. Yoga is a system that doesn’t stop just at the well-being of human beings here and now. It also doesn’t prescribe ways and means for a pious life just for the sake of avoiding hell and to be in heaven eternally. For in the Indian system, even heaven and hell are temporary. Just as one’s bank balance gets finished by utilizing it, so the soul has to come back to the school of learning, namely the earth.

IYM: What do the Yoga Sutras have to offer to the world?

MAJ: We in India feel that human beings have become victims of our own creation, riding on a tiger’s back, and we are tired of the ride. The human quest to find solutions to all our problems through science and technology alone, has resulted in this mythical tiger and the feeling is that we are being led rather than being in the lead. So humanity is in search of mental and emotional security, which can only be gained by an internal journey and not by acquiring more knowledge or instruments to make one feel more secure. Technology can help in making us secure from external onslaughts but how can we become secure from internal onslaughts?

That is where Patanjali scores. He gives a practical plan to create internal securities, too. His system is universal. If studied properly, understanding the Indian ambiance behind the Yoga Sutras, it would provide an excellent text to the psychologists of the world, offering a simpler and better method to liberate humankind from its imagined insecurity. It also helps humanity to realize that happiness is an inner state, which releases it from its obsessive fixation towards objects as sources of happiness.

IYM: Why have the Yoga Sutras become so meaningful to you?

MAJ: I was raised in a very orthodox family that, for centuries, specialized in Indian texts of Vedanta. Even though I had the understanding of the purport of the Yoga Sutras, it was only due to my interaction with students who are practitioners of asana, pranayama and, to some extent, dhyana, that I came to realize the depth of the meaning of the Sutras. The questioning attitude of the non-Indian yogis also made me explore the inner and subtler shades of meaning at different levels, which we Sanskritists normally never do. After teaching the chanting of the Yoga Sutras for more than a decade, I have realized that this constant chanting, day in and day out, has transformed me physically, mentally, as well as emotionally. It has made me a firm believer that chanting is really one of the catalysts in attaining liberation. A deeper understanding of the Yoga Sutras has helped me become more of a witness to that which is happening around me. This has led to greater strength in confronting unforeseen situations with equanimity and poise, without becoming emotionally lost in the situation. I laugh more than ever. My compassion circuit is becoming more and more active and helps me in taking the appropriate action that the situation warrants.

Dr. M.A. Jayashree was head of the Department of Sanskrit at D. Banumaiah’s College in Mysore, India. She has authored many books in the fields of Sanskrit, ancient sciences, Indian history, culture and music. An accomplished teacher of spoken Sanskrit, Dr. Jayashree has a large following of overseas students. She is the voice heard chanting the Yoga Sutras in the documentary, Living Yoga: The life and teachings of Swami Satchidananda. She is also the voice on the recording of the audiobook of The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali: Translation and Commentary by Swami Satchidananda. Her chanting and instructional CDs on the Yoga Sutras, Hatha Yoga Pradipika, Gita and others are available from anantharesearch.org.

The post Chanting the Yoga Sutras in Sanskrit appeared first on Integral Yoga® Magazine.

The language that long ago established the certainty of freedom was Sanskrit. Like mathematics, Sanskrit is a language of infinite subtlety and functional precision. While the sciences of mathematics, physics, astronomy etc. continue to evolve, as scientists use them as tools to probe deeper into the nature of the universe, Sanskrit has not changed since 500 B.C., when it was meticulously codified by Panini. If the ultimate task of science, as well as the ultimate goal of life, had been to get a man on the moon, there would have been no need for science and mathematics to develop any further. It could have stopped right there. Sanskrit stopped being further refined precisely because it had become the sufficient instrument to facilitate human liberation, the ultimate purpose of human life. There simply was no need to go further. The enlightenment of the Buddha at exactly the same time in history could be viewed as an auspicious confirmation of the culmination of millennia of yogic research.

Although a wide range of manuals document the certainty of freedom by means of the technical language of Sanskrit from virtually every possible human perspective, there is one which stands apart as a jewel of scientific clarity, precision and brevity — the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali. Written sometime after the codifying of Sanskrit and the enlightenment of Buddha, the Yoga Sutras bring home the certainty of freedom as the inevitable outcome of the journey through life. A sutra is a short word equation that conveys a potent truth. A collection of sutras, such as the 196 in the Yoga Sutras, represents the interlocking correspondence of many potent truths from multiple perspectives to create a mandala, a cosmology, a complete and universal perspective of life, specifically the life of an individual progression from an unknown beginning through change and evolution to kaivalyam, being established in that which is beyond change. The truth of each individual equation is a convincing proof contributing to the ultimate perspective of the whole and conversely, the whole, a context for the essential truth of the individual sutra.

Before taking on such a perspective it’s essential to be convinced of the need to do so by the necessity of one’s own life. The process of adopting the perspective contained in the Yoga Sutras is well documented in the sutras themselves. It is perhaps the most significant rocket stage of insight that exists to accelerate momentum towards kaivalyam.

Consider the impact of the “certainty of freedom” as the fundamental context of your life. If you woke up every morning and went to bed every night, living life in the certainty of freedom, how would things be different?

No nagging fear of failure to accomplish this, of not resolving that with so-and-so, of being liked or disliked or controlled, of not being good enough, of losing health, suffering and dying not having accomplished goals, being less than others, than what you could have been.

The italicized above represents the perspective unconsciously adopted by the human race collectively. It operates not through the certainty of freedom but through the certainty of death. “The clock is running — I’d better prove myself before it’s too late.” Motivated by the certainty of death, individuals struggle for happiness or liberation all the time fearing they won’t make it. Patanjali dispenses with all this in a few words, saying:

duhkham eva sarvam vivekinah
All is pain to those who discriminate.

In the present context, it would only be possible to fully adopt the Yoga Sutras’ perspective of the certainty of freedom by being convinced that the only alternative credo, the certainty of death, is ultimately fraught with more struggle and suffering. There is no pessimism, whatsoever, in the statement, only a coming to terms with the lack of complete fulfillment that persists as long as one is not fully established in one’s own true nature. Patanjali states in the next sutras:

heyam duhkham anaagatam
Pain not yet come is to be ended. The word heyam, “to be ended” can also mean “endable”. That which is to be ended is endable. Anyone who decides to do so may. Consider once and for all ending suffering which otherwise is inevitable.

drashtr-drshyayoh sanyogo heya-hetuh
The cause of the suffering to be ended is the correlation between the seer (one’s true self) and that which is to be seen. What is to be seen is “seeable”. Anything which is other than my own true nature as the seer is seeable. When I identify myself with that which is essentially not myself, I continue to feel something is missing. This dissatisfaction is painful.

tasya hetur avidyaa
The cause of the correlation is avidyaa. The reason I correlate myself with what is not myself, fail to see what is to be seen, and therefore continue to feel dissatisfaction, is avidyaa, the absence of self-awareness.

anityaashuci-duhkhaanaatmasu nitya-shuci-sukhaatma-khyaatir avidyaa
Avidyaa is the identification with a self which is not one’s self, with happiness in what is really suffering, purity in what is impure, and permanence in what is impermanent. Not seeing the certainty of lasting happiness in my own being, I seek it elsewhere.

Giving Patanjali the benefit of the doubt — the certainty of liberation can displace the certainty of death only on the condition that I see that all that I believed would bring me happiness and freedom has not satisfied me. If I continue to hope for happiness through anything which identifies me as that which is the seeable, in effect, I deny the only possible true happiness, my own self. Any happiness other than my own self must be impermanent by nature, because all is changing. Seeking something I see in order to find happiness will definitely cause a correlation with it, and will definitely keep me identified with a self that is not the self, and will definitely cause future suffering — that which is to be ended.

To the one who is able to make this distinction, all is suffering. It would be equivalent to deciding “I will no longer pursue happiness where it does not exist.” Only for this one can there be the certainty of freedom. Such a conclusion inevitably leads one to a perspective such as the Yoga Sutras.

Once the decision has been made to establish the certainty of freedom in oneself, the Sutras have to be internalized and assimilated, preferably in the original Sanskrit. It’s not that they couldn’t be translated into English, but rather that they are infinitely more potent and effective in Sanskrit. Learning the Sutras in English could be compared to scientists using words rather than numerical equations to solve their problems. Not only does Sanskrit offer a precise technical vocabulary, but it is a completely fluid language consisting of vibrational harmonies, perfectly designed to bring the human energy system into phase with the subtlest matrix of creation. Since the Sutras are nothing more than word equations, the most rudimentary knowledge of Sanskrit suffices. The first step is to learn some basic Sanskrit, especially the pronunciation of its sounds. This is relatively easy, because the sounds of Sanskrit are based on being the purest, and most resonant the human vocal instrument is able to produce.

Another significant reason for the use of the Sanskrit is that the thorough assimilation of the perspective of the Yoga Sutras requires they be learned by heart. This is extremely pleasurable when approached through the chanting of them in the original Sanskrit. The fluid nature of Sanskrit lends itself to easy memorization. Each individual sutra being like a hologramatic segment, the overall perspective begins to gel just having learned one. The one links by way of sound continuity and philosophical context to the next and likewise that to the next. If one conceives the project as a quantitative one for the mind, it will tend to be abandoned. The number of sutras, 196, is more than most minds can deal with. A sutra can only be learned, one at a time. Each one must literally be learned “by heart”, an act of devotion to my true self, with a love for clarity and power of the truth being conveyed as well as the exquisite sounds it is conveyed through. It’s far more efficient when the inputting of the Yoga model is an experience that is consistent with the model.

For example, the very first sutra — atha yogaanushaasanam — serves to effect the paradigm shift by saying atha — now, definitively, distinctly breaking from past structures, a new beginning — yoga-anushaasanam — the model of yoga. The second sutra is the definition of yoga and the essential core of the entire text. All subsequent Sutras reference back to and develop the foundational depth of this one:

yogash-citta-vrtti-nirodhah
Yoga is the nirodha of the vrtti of citta.

In effect the rest of the text is largely devoted to expand the dimensions of these three words citta-vrtti-nirodhah. English has no exact equivalents. Although it can be helpful to use some English approximations such as, Yoga is a process of ending the mental artifices which specifically localize and define an individual (energy) field of consciousness; the real task at hand is to associate the original Sanskrit terms with elements of one’s own experience, especially through the process of Yoga. In other words feel, the vrtti — that which defines my individual energy field (citta). Now the nirodha — process of ending that vrtti — definition can become a dynamic force, a direct experience rather than just a definition, by simply enjoying the sounds and the rhythm of the sutras.

With a little training in Sanskrit, there is the pleasure of the tongue vibrating behind the upper teeth in many of the sounds, specifically the tt in citta and vrtti and the n and dh in nirodhah. In the last word, the release of extra breath with the sound dha, and the closing breath h. By chanting it a number of times, one can become absorbed in rhythm and vibration. The entire body can begin to resonate with sound. And followed by a moment’s silence, one can feel citta as a vibrant energy field. There takes place the nirodha of the prior vrtti-definition of myself as an individual person struggling with the uncertainties presented by a restless mind. In the very act of learning the sutra, I have had a living experience of it. Subsequent experiences can be easily accessed by using the word nirodha to define a specific inner state — infinitely more effective than trying to get the mind to stop. In this way, from the very outset, the sutras become a dynamic internal software, a program which thrusts one’s citta onwards towards a complete resolution of all vrtti limitations. With each sutra learned, and linked to one’s experience of life, the model gains momentum, establishing the certainty of freedom, while displacing the certainty of death, and the constraints that its companion fears impose on our lives. The sutras provide a new language of previously unknown distinctions by which we define and therefore determine our inner experience.

The subtlety of Sanskrit and the vitality of the truths conveyed through it, combine to propel the model to the very depths of the unconscious, where ultimately the certainty of freedom has to be established. This process of transformation is also well described in the Sutras:

vyutthaana-nirodha-sanskaarayor abhibhava-praadurbhaavau nirodha-kshana-cittaanvayo nirodha-parinaamah
The experience of Yoga in which there is the nirodha — ending of a vrtti limitation — deposits a sanskaara — subliminal impression in the unconscious — which then begins to serve as a subliminal activator for further experiences of nirodha.

Every time the nirodha sanskaara is activated, while at the same time there is a recession in the activation of the old patterning, there occurs a transformation of citta, the individual energy field, what Patanjali calls nirodha-parinaama or nirodha-transformation. The next sutra:

tasya prashaanta-vaahitaa sanskaaraat
The calm flow of that transformation occurs because of continuous subliminal activation.

The patterning that we establish in our fields each moment is a choice. By not choosing the certainty of freedom, we leave ourselves at the effect of the default setting, destined to repeat the patterns we know so well. A quote from the astronaut, Stuart Roosa, who orbited the moon alone while Alan Shepard and Edgar Mitchell explored the surface, sums it up nicely, “Space changes nobody. You bring back from space what you bring into space.”

In the final analysis, Yoga is the very essence of the great movement of life. All life is moving towards freedom. The repeated trials, pains and struggles of life ultimately help to establish nirodha and advance each individual life form beyond eternal repetitions of the same suffering. The Yoga Sutras are a scientific documentation of the process of life, by which we as human beings who do have a choice, may accelerate our journey, by seeing the root cause of suffering, and choose to not reinforce it. May we all choose to know the calm flow of the certainty of freedom, subliminally activated each moment, bringing about the transformation of citta and with that:

tadaa drashtuh svaruupe’vasthaanam
At each of those moments, the establishing of I, the seer, in my own true nature.

By Vyaas Houston, M.A.

Vyaas Houston is the founder and former director the American Sanskrit Institute. After teaching Sanskrit and Yoga for more than 15 years, he discovered in 1987 a successful method for teaching Sanskrit based on the yoga model of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras. His Sanskrit Training has provided thousands of people with the opportunity to discover their own unique relationship with Sanskrit. Vyaas Houston is the author of Sanskrit by CD and the Sanskrit Atlas 1.0, and has recorded and translated many Sanskrit classics.

The post Sanskrit and the Yoga Sutras appeared first on Integral Yoga® Magazine.

Sanskrit verse from Bhagavad Gita

The primary characteristic of a sacred language is that the purpose for which it’s being used is discovering one’s own true nature. Sanskrit is so highly developed and refined as a tool for serving this purpose that even the task of learning the language seems “difficult” — unless the motive for learning is aligned with the function of the language, that is, to know oneself. When Sanskrit is approached with the humility and one-pointedness that is the trademark of a genuine search for truth, it becomes revealed. There arises a simple joy in all aspects of its study. Singing the alphabet is especially inspiring even when one has become proficient.

My teacher, Shri Brahmananda Sarasvati, although a master of Sanskrit, with more than 60 years of study behind him, and his speech impaired by a stroke, still seems to find his greatest delight in leading a group of students through the alphabet. Perhaps, this says a much as anything about the nature of a sacred language.

(photo left: Shri Brahmananda Sarasvati)

We seldom hear anyone over seven years of age singing the English alphabet. Its not that these sounds aren’t enjoyable to sing. We do not have the same relation to the English language that adults and children alike who have learned Sanskrit have with it. That relation is a sacred one, based on the energy conveyed through sound, a love for the unique characteristics of each sound in engaging the mind, body, the breath, vocal resonance, the mouth, tongue and lips.

Because of the simplicity of life in ancient times, there was an acute awareness that all changes in life took place as a result of changes in language. As new discoveries occurred in language, there was an immediate and very noticeable shift in human beings’ interactions and in the way that they perceived their environment. The evolution of human awareness was inextricably linked to the development of language. It was natural that more and more attention should be given to its development as the single most important factor in changing the quality of human life. This eventually gave way to discoveries whose magnitude is inconceivable to us in modern times, where language tends to be taken for granted.

The discovery, development and refinement of Sanskrit must have taken place over millennia. Although Sanskrit along with its great power to elevate human consciousness to sublime heights, is often attributed to a divine source, we can also hypothesize that its properties were discoveries that took place as a result of human beings actively and intensively engaging in the discovery of their own divine nature. The most significant question that must have arisen to the ancients was how to continue optimizing the human instrument, the body and mind, as a vehicle for the expansion of awareness and happiness. Knowing that the operation of the instrument depends entirely on the language with which it is programmed, they worked on the refinement of language software. They scrutinized and experimented with the vocal instrument and the structure of the mouth and then selected only those sounds which had the greatest clarity, purity and power of resonance. They then organized these sounds in such a way that they could mutually enhance and brighten one another, and build upon each other’s resonance. They explored the factor of breath in creating sound, and discovered that by minimizing the breath with certain sounds and maximizing it with others, the language would induce in the instrument a state of relaxed alertness that could keep it operating efficiently and tirelessly for long periods of time, while expanding and building prana-energy. And as they did this, they became happier.

Furthermore, by coordinating the factors of purity of sound, enhanced resonance and breath, there also developed an awareness of the entire body as a resonating chamber through which sound could be transmitted. With increased vibratory power, the concept of the body as solid matter gradually became replaced by one of the body as the center of an energy field. In the process of transmitting sound energy, they observed subtle changes in the field and found they could expand it by following the sound waves. They had discovered that language has the capacity to convert the body and mind into pure energy. They began to feel joy.

It was further discovered that certain combinations of sounds would enhance the expansion of the field more than others, and this was experimented with, until sound combinations which could bring about this effect universally were revealed. Their joy expanded. These particular combinations became useful words for describing as well as feeling the state of consciousness they induced. In this way the breadth and depth of all that exists was explored. They looked and listened and experienced changes in the energy field, to see how the language could be further refined, what new distinctions could be made. Eventually, they fathomed creation and found their own identity at the very source of it all. Their bliss was boundless. When they spoke with one another in this language they established love and harmony.

Over millennia, Sanskrit was refined as an instrument of Yoga. By 500 B.C. it had reached a point where it was perfected, and ready to be laid down formally. The genius Panini was born for that purpose. So masterful, concise and comprehensive was his great work, Ashtadhyayi in formulating the Sanskrit language, that to this day, two and a half millennia later, no one has been able to improve upon his original work. For 25 centuries, the language has not only survived intact, but thrived through the love of countless enlightened sages, yogis and scholars, basically unmodified. Just imagine a language thriving with little change for 2500 years. In each century there have been spiritual geniuses, who immersed themselves in the blissful and timeless joy of Sanskrit. Many have elaborated or commented on Panini’s original work, but none have changed it or replaced it. Yoga has thrived side by side with Sanskrit, but through all the practice, experimentation and discovery that has taken place in that science, there has been little need to develop new language or modify the old language in order to measure or inspire progress. Sanskrit had been perfected by 500 B.C. as a tool for defining the ultimate pinnacle of human aspiration.

Questions tend to come up as to why Sanskrit has not been used more as a popular language, or why we are not now utilizing it more widely. The primary obstacle, as I see it, is that we have had difficulty in accessing Sanskrit in the way that it is designed to be used. Because of the strong belief we hold that we are our body/mind, our primary concern is what is going to happen to us individually. We see the possibility of change, being happy in the future. And we try to choose and do those things which will most certainly secure our future happiness or enlightenment. This equation is almost universally interpreted as “getting more and getting better”. The approach never works for learning Sanskrit, or for being happy.

Usually the motivation for learning Sanskrit is the enchantment, inspiration, peace and deep sense of spiritual connection felt when listening to it. Or it may have been a pure childlike enjoyment in duplicating those sounds. Most people would have no difficulty learning Sanskrit, if they simply remained in the mode of what motivated them in the first place, their enjoyment. But something else usually happens. The desire to learn Sanskrit starts to be perceived as a future goal, which, when and if achieved, will represent the securing of the happiness which generated the desire to learn it in the first place. The goal is usually accompanied by an expectation of mastering a certain amount of material within a certain period of time. The problem here is the old conditioning, all past memories of happiness, present or future, being thwarted by difficulties and interruptions. Greatest among these memories is the loss of the simple joy of being a child and the pure direct perception of life we all experienced in our childhood.

The nature of a sacred language such as Sanskrit is the direct way that it models life, or accesses through the purity of its sound and rhythms, the perfection and beauty of life that we all experienced as children. On our first exposure to Sanskrit, we reconnect with that purity and joy, and then with the desire to secure that again in our lives, decide that we must learn the language. On a very deep level, it’s a decision to nourish our spirit, and reestablish our oneness with life. But it also at the same time brings us face to face with our existential pain, the entire sum of our conditioning, all that has kept us in a state of feeling alone and separate for the greater part of a lifetime, as well as our repeated failure in attempting to regain that happiness.

Once the task of learning the language is conceived, the criteria for achievement are unconsciously measured. Success is determined by comparing what one has managed to learn with what remains to be known and how much others know. Success also depends on the mastery of a certain quantity of information in a certain period of time. The universal question asked at the beginning, is “How long will it take me to learn it?” But the Sanskrit language is so vast and distinctly different from other languages and other learning tasks, that from the very outset, it becomes apparent that it is going to be very difficult to achieve the expected success in the expected period of time. In addition, there are many Indian speakers and scholars, one could never even hope to catch up with. This inevitably brings the conclusion “Proficiency is further away than I had believed.” Along with this assessment — automatically arise the words “too difficult”. Sanskrit is too difficult.

But the problem is not really the perceived difficulty based on the amount of information that exists in the Sanskrit language. The fact that there is more information actually represents more enjoyment. If one were offered a large collection of the greatest music of all time accompanied by a continuous flow of increasingly majestic and panoramic visions, one would not be disappointed because it would take too long to listen to. In other words, discouragement about being able to learn Sanskrit has absolutely nothing to do with Sanskrit. Sanskrit is an enjoyable experience at all stages. Working with Sanskrit increases and develops energy and clarity of mind. There are seemingly an infinite variety of euphonic sound combinations and rhythmic patterns to be enjoyed. Experiencing them expands the capacity of the mind to operate as the cosmic computer it is designed to be.

The only real problem that arises with regard to learning Sanskrit is forgetting why one decided to learn it in the first place — to feel the joy and purity one felt as a child. When the real purpose is forgotten, we automatically default to concerns about success and failure based on past programming. It is only in regard to this that the idea “too difficult” can arise. Once “too difficult” takes root, the usual result is giving up, because one’s image of oneself being proficient, seems too difficult to attain within the time limitations calculated as a factor in producing the necessary satisfaction.

Although such resignation is based on the fact of long-standing pain, it is not the truth. The truth is the original inspiration, the joy, the play, the heightened awareness. If Sanskrit seems too difficult, it’s doing its job perfectly. A sacred language must teach us to discover where the energy of being flows, and it becomes easy.

The obvious solution is to have no expectations whatsoever with regard to time or quantities of information. This is an approach which serves our original purpose — to enter into that timeless dimension. If concerns come up or it seems to be getting difficult, it’s merely an indication that we’ve forgotten our real purpose. The moment the idea of getting or adding “more” arises, we lose the direct absorption, the enjoyment, the sense of play. This is direct bio-feedback — “I am off course”.

I have not yet seen Sanskrit, or life, fit into anyone’s time calculations or strategies. Sanskrit is a play, a dance of energy in the eternal now. It, modeling life, is perfectly designed to take us beyond our expectations, our self images, our programming. But we must be ready to be in the role of a perpetual learner, a student of life, of the ancient, eternal wisdom, miraculously encoded in this sacred language. If we believe that by learning a sacred language, we will gain knowledge and power, then we look to a future goal which is by definition opposed to our true nature. The power of a sacred language is to immediately mirror this back, as if to say, NO ACCESS. A sacred language, is one which guides us to our own true nature, and every time we derail ourselves, reminds us in some way that we’re missing out on its real nourishment. If we are going to engage, it must be with our total being, one pointed awareness, free from the distraction of where it might bring us, or rather, we might take it in the future.

Sanskrit is the living heritage of great rishis who walked this earth thousands of years ago. It presents us with an awesome responsibility and a lifelong challenge, while it inspires us to remain fully engaged in exploring what’s possible for a human being. Learning Sanskrit is an opportunity to know directly for ourselves what the rishis discovered long ago. Most important, when approached as a sacred language, it makes us happy.

“On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. The infinite sky is motionless overhead and the restless water is boisterous. On the seashore of endless worlds the children meet with shouts and dances… Tempest roams in the pathless sky, ships are wrecked in the trackless water, death is abroad and the children play. On the seashore of endless worlds is the great meeting of children.”    — Rabindranath Tagore

Article by: Vyaas Houston, M.A.

Vyaas (Tuck) Houston is the founder and director the American Sanskrit Institute. After teaching Sanskrit and Yoga for more than 15 years, he discovered in 1987 a successful method for teaching Sanskrit based on the yoga model of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras. His Sanskrit Training has provided thousands of people with the opportunity to discover their own unique relationship with Sanskrit. Vyaas Houston is the author of Sanskrit by CD and the Sanskrit Atlas 1.0, and has recorded and translated many Sanskrit classics.

(photo at top of article: Shri Brahmananda Sarasvati)

The post Sanskrit: a Sacred Model of Language, Part 2 appeared first on Integral Yoga® Magazine.

My teacher used to say “the body is a prison only when you cannot come and go as you please”. The experience of samadhi is the freedom to come and go. Without samadhi we live in a prison of language, whose walls consist of words, whose bars and locked doors are the meanings and significance we unknowingly give to those words. Unknowingly, because the meanings were never consciously selected. They were programmed into us by prior generations. For example, when people make a mistake, they tend to feel stupid or embarrassed. But whoever (aside from lexicographers) really defined for themselves what a “mistake” is? All we know is that we make them, we feel stupid because of them, we feel we should be able to correct them, but often don’t, which is a “big mistake”. When did we ever decide my life would be enhanced if I could find a word that would make me feel stupid, embarrassed, and worthy of contempt each time I act with imprecision?” From our parents, all the way back, the past has cultivated words and meanings which now survive as our prison. We were even told that it’s a nice place and we should be able to succeed there. What was perhaps actually meant by “mistake” was “anything which one’s child does that creates a fear that the child is not finding it to be a nice place, does not want to do what everyone else is doing, will not be able to succeed, and therefore survive.”

If you multiply all the words of the English (or any) language, times all prior generations’ fears about survival, you could get an idea of just how thick the walls of this prison are. Our ultimate challenge is to see right through those walls rather than to take them apart brick by brick. The former means changing our entire relationship to language. The latter would be equivalent to getting the inmates (practically everybody) to agree on redefining each word. For example, if we got together and decided that “mistake” from now on means “what occurs during a momentary lapse of attention from one’s activity — essential (as a bio-feedback device) for all phases of human development and self discovery”, we would be removing a large brick from the wall. But when someone screams at you #!#!!# XXX, from another car, when you forget to use your turn signal, the brick has suddenly popped back into its old place. While it’s a good idea to keep redefining words and clarifying definitions, it’s absolutely essential to redefine our relationship to language. This means deciding once and for all that language is the ultimate tool for being fulfilled in life and “I choose to use it as such”, as opposed to unconsciously allowing the language of the past to subconsciously dictate my identity. “I am at the source of, prior to language, rather than at the effect of it, after it. I am using language, not the other way around.”

The sage Shankara wrote:

satsangatve nissangatvam
nissangatve nirmohatvam
nirmohatve niscalitatvam
niscalitatvam jiivanmuktih

In a state of satsanga, good company, (comes) non-attachment; in non-attachment, a state beyond confusion; in truth beyond confusion, motionlessness; in motionlessness, living freedom.

The verse could be used as a model of the necessary conditions for making the shift from being at the effect of language to being at the source of it. It all begins with satsanga, good company. The best example of this that I know of is a group of people who have come together to learn Sanskrit. It seems that on some level, perhaps unconsciously, a person who has decided to learn Sanskrit, has decided in some way to use this sacred language for that which it was designed — to be free. It is remarkably easy for such a group of people to change their relation to language, to put themselves at the source of language and then select and use language in a way that gives them access to Sanskrit, with ease and enjoyment. Without the mutual agreement of the group, satsanga, good company, it would be highly unlikely that the shift could ever take place. We grew up in a world where a mistake was a bad thing, enough so that most people would not risk making one. This led to massive withdrawal. Though people remained in a group, they were not really part of the group. In truth, fear dominated nearly all groups. Natural unity was shattered. The satsanga was lost. Groups were ineffective. Alone, individuals were powerless. Everyone was hopelessly at the effect of the language of right/wrong and smart/stupid. In effect, a “group” could have been defined as a “body of people which has come together to determine who is worthy and who is unworthy.”

Fortunately, the Sanskrit language has given us the word “satsanga”, which could be defined as “a body of people who have come together (sanga) to ascertain reality (sat).” The fundamental agreement of such a group, such as the one which has come together to learn Sanskrit, is that “I” am prior to language. I use language to direct my attention to a full appreciation of the beautiful sounds of the Sanskrit language, their harmonies and their organization, as well as the truths expressed through the language. The language that makes this possible is the language of yoga, another gift of Sanskrit. The satsanga agrees upon abhyaasa the selecting and sustained attention upon a single focal point, for example, listening to the sounds of the Sanskrit language. It’s also agreed that there’s nothing “wrong” with being off the point. Becoming aware that I am off point, without satsanga — I might worry about what I missed that others got, I might worry about being left behind — “others are succeeding where I fail.” But in satsanga where the language of yoga has been agreed upon, there is vairaagya or non-attachment, “the full awareness of my own mastery to not-attach myself to habitual experience and simply return to the point, and even acknowledge ‘I missed something — could it be repeated?'”. For the satsanga, if anyone missed anything, it’s an opportunity for it to be reviewed and clarified and enjoyed again by everyone. It sounds too good to be true. Yet it happens exactly this way by shifting our relationship to language. This would not be possible without satsanga.

In the state of satsanga (satsangatve) comes non-attachment (nissangatvam). There is no more attachment to being right, and concurrently the fear of being wrong. The real satisfaction derived from the wholeness of group unity, the much greater capacity of the group to focus together, enjoy sound together, appreciate the beauty of Sanskrit together, all make the prior condition of being at the effect of words such as right/wrong or smart/stupid or success/failure seem totally irrelevant. Through satsanga, there’s a complete shift in our relation to language — we see through the prison walls.

In non-attachment (nissangatve), there comes a state beyond confusion (nirmohatvam). I’m no longer holding myself back because of the fear of consequences. I am feeling my oneness with the group. It’s safe to put myself into it. There is no conflict over wanting acceptance, while fearing rejection. My confusion over whether to participate or not — will I be rejected if I do it wrong or isolated if I do it right — is gone. The illusion, and the confusion (moha) of being separate from others dissolves. The truth that we are one emerges. When we move as one, we go beyond success and failure and access our natural ability to perfectly reflect whatever we perceive — samadhi.

In the state beyond confusion (nirmohatve), is motionlessness (nishcalitatvam). This happens in the Sanskrit satsanga. In the absence of striving to be better, fearing getting worse, the old language that raced through our mind stops. The mind becomes still, sensitive. A state of listening is present, samadhi, in which we feel the nuances of Sanskrit, its power, and the subtle way it resonates in the heart of our being, like ancient and eternal music. There’s no more struggle to learn, to gain and accumulate knowledge. The words of Sanskrit, through their sound vibration are like waves of pure energy, which we enjoy as if watching a performance taking place inside us — while their meanings describe our own fathomless perfection, as the seer of all, ancient, eternal.

In motionlessness (nishcalitatve), living freedom (jiivanmukti), The prison walls, even the memory that they were ever there, has dissolved. From beginning to end, from the first attempt to learn Sanskrit to the direct experience of the meaning of its ancient words of truth and power, Sanskrit generates and establishes an entirely different relationship with language. It’s the proper relationship, the true one, establishing our real unity, freedom from the bondage of the past illusions. It keeps us savoring the timeless enjoyment of the universe of sound, and a perfect creation.

By Vyaas Houston, MA

Vyaas Houston is the founder and director the American Sanskrit Institute. After teaching Sanskrit and Yoga for more than 15 years, he discovered in 1987 a successful method for teaching Sanskrit based on the yoga model of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras. His Sanskrit Training has provided thousands of people with the opportunity to discover their own unique relationship with Sanskrit. Vyaas Houston is the author of Sanskrit by CD and the Sanskrit Atlas 1.0, and has recorded and translated many Sanskrit classics.

The post Sanskrit: a Sacred Model of Language, Part 3 appeared first on Integral Yoga® Magazine.

In effect, Patanjali says that all study of Yoga exists for the sake of making this distinction, and only when this distinction is made continuously does there occur kaivalya, the freedom of the self from all limiting identities, and hence from what we refer to as “problems,” the big one and the little ones. Simple logic assumes that if kaivalya is free from all problems but we are being devoured by problems and their accompanying anxieties, that we are not familiar with kaivalya. Therefore the presence of problems is the absence of kaivalya and vice versa. But before kaivalya, we have the challenge of distinguishing sattva from purusha. The immediate choice is not between kaivalya and problems, but of one big problem or lots of little ones.

The specific term Patanjali uses to describe this distinguishing of the difference between sattva and purusha is viveka-khyaati. Khyaati implies “knowledge by naming.” It comes from the root khyaa — to name or declare. Viveka means “distinguishing by separating apart”, from the root vic. In this case it refers to separating apart one’s own self, purusha from sattva.

Since nothing can be known or distinguished without naming it, the act of naming something is the decisive turning point where anything can be known. Through his choice of words, Patanjali implies that the only difference between those who have discovered kaivalya and those who haven’t is that the former have been careful to focus upon the act of naming sattva and purusha as distinct from each other. In the same context, Patanjali also uses the term purusha-khyaati — naming, hence, knowing purusha (my true identity) to be independent from and therefore not at the effect of any activity in the perceptual field. This being the ultimate viveka, or distinction, it is also referred to as viveka-khyaati. Without purusha-khyaati, or viveka-khyaati. it is certain that identity will be shaped by what is occurring in the always changing field. We suffer from a limited identity, whose happiness depends upon the weather, so to speak.

The best hope we have of making this ultimate distinction of life is to assume that it’s the most natural thing in the world to do so. It’s natural in the sense that others like ourselves, worn down by multiple problems, sought and found this simplicity. It’s perfectly practical to choose the one problem that resolves the others to say “my problem is that my perspective has not included sattva — light, the essence of clarity, the subtlest substratum of life, and the original pulsation.” But it’s hard to imagine that one could ever arrive at viveka-khyaati without problem—khyaati, the act of naming the problem.

Several things occur by the sincere declaration of such a problem. The first is that other problems lose their charge. This is not to say that responsibilities or needs or relations disappear, or that discomfort, pain etc. go away, but that they no longer occur as “problems.” They can’t continue to exist in the same way when I say “my only problem is that I’m not seeing sattva and getting on to viveka-khyaati.” The funny thing about this is that by making the absence of sattva the big problem, sattva begins to show up. What becomes apparent is that the primary cause of not seeing sattva is a preoccupation with problems and worries. It also becomes clear that sattva, the medium of consciousness, is always present. The very fact that we are aware of a field is at once evidence of sattva, and can be a means of redirecting our attention to sattva. Another thing that occurs is an extraordinary appreciation of the Yoga Sutras and the Sanskrit language as the lenses that help to bring sattva into focus. They are lenses which we use, by our own choice, to focus, and thereby see. This is in contrast to a passive approach where we hope that something external, such as the Yoga Sutras, or Sanskrit, will enlighten us.

Most important, while seeing sattva, there a medium of clarity that makes it possible to become aware of the continuous presence of drashtaa — I the seer, purusha, seeing sattva. Since sattva is subtle, “seeing” here refers to a direct experience of an expanded field of vibration, by a simultaneous seeing, feeling and hearing of finer frequencies. With this comes the discovery that I, the seer, am always present, but when seeing sattva, it’s easier to remember. Patanjali has made the alternative clear by his definition of avidyaa (the lack of awareness):

Avidyaa is the khyaati of a self on what is not the self, happiness on misery, purity on impurity, and permanence on impermanence.

Again, he uses the word khyaati as if to say “if there is no viveka-khyaati, there will be the khyaati (naming and therefore knowing, projecting a self on what is not the self, etc.)” Another sutra, reinforcing the importance of dealing with the big problem adds:

vidyaa is the field of the other klesha (problems).

The use of Sanskrit as a lens to bring sattva into focus can be even more effective in a class environment with people who have agreed to exercise the continuous application of Yoga to the study of Sanskrit (and Sanskrit to the study of Yoga). Essential to this are abhyaasa — continuously choosing to focus on a predetermined point of focus — and vairaagya — the recognition of being off the point and not being stuck on staying off the point. Patanjali defines this as the “declaration of mastery on the part of one not holding on to prior experience.”

The Sanskrit required to grasp the Sutras is elementary, since the Sutras are only word equations. But, the richness of inspiration derived from this first step into the language is indescribable. It can never become one of those programs we try once and forget about. Its purity draws us, inspires us, and constantly reminds us, in case we forget, of our biggest problem.

By Vyaas Houston, M.A.

Vyaas (Tuck) Houston is the founder and director the American Sanskrit Institute. After teaching Sanskrit and Yoga for more than 15 years, he discovered in 1987 a successful method for teaching Sanskrit based on the yoga model of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras. His Sanskrit Training has provided thousands of people with the opportunity to discover their own unique relationship with Sanskrit. Vyaas Houston is the author of Sanskrit by CD and the Sanskrit Atlas 1.0, and has recorded and translated many Sanskrit classics.

The post Sanskrit, Sattva and Purusha appeared first on Integral Yoga® Magazine.

Dictionaries/Pronunciation Guides

1. The Monier-Williams Online Sanskrit Dictionary

2.  Online Sanskrit Pronunciation Guide by Tilak Pyle
A resource for Yoga teachers and students interested in learning how to better pronounce and understand the Sanskrit words that we use and encounter in our classes, conversations, texts, and teachings. Here you will find these Sanskrit words in the original Devanagari script, the corresponding transliteration, English translations of the terms and their roots, and streamable audio files of these words being pronounced.

3. Asana dictionary by Tilak Pyle

4. Online Sanskrit Dictionary

5. English Sanskrit Dictionary app
This is English Sanskrit Dictionary and Sanskrit English Dictionary (आङ्ग्लभाषा ंस्कृत भाषा निघण्टु). The Dictionary is OFFLINE and does not need the internet connection. English Sanskrit Dictionary database will be downloaded when the application is run first time. They recommend you to use Wi-Fi connection.

6. Dictionary of Sanskrit Names by the Integral Yoga Institute
A comprehensive list of beautiful, ancient Sanskrit names with their significance and spiritual meanings. Numerous references to classical scriptures of India are included to help in research and further study of a name. The special qualities implied by each name are highlighted with cross-references to other names having the same quality.

7. The Language of Yoga by Nicolai Bachman, published by Sounds True.
Learn how to read, write and pronounce over 200 asana names and over 300 Sanskrit terms relating to Yoga. Includes 7 chants, asana names in alphabetical order and separate tracks for Ashtanga sequences.

8. 108 Sanskrit Flash Cards with CD by Nicolai Bachman
Learn how to read, write and pronounce the Sanskrit alphabet. 108 color-coded cards with accompanying audio CD specifically designed to organically step you through the letters in alphabetical order leading up to words.

The post Resources: Dictionaries/Pronunciation Guides appeared first on Integral Yoga® Magazine.