द्रष्टा दृशिमात्रः शुद्धोऽपि प्रत्ययानुपश्यः ॥२०॥
draṣṭā dṛśi-mātraḥ śuddhaḥ api-pratyaya-anupaśyaḥ ||20||
The seer only sees; though pure, it appears intentional.
The seer is merely the power of seeing; [however,] although pure, he witnesses the images of the mind.
Bryant Commentary:
The seen—the guṇas of prakṛti and their effects—has been discussed in the above sūtras, and now Patañjali turns his attention to the seer, draṣṭṛ. The seer is the puruṣa, the soul or innermost conscious self. He is the pure undiluted power of consciousness—pure because untouched by any attribute, qualification, object, or predicate. He is neither the same as, nor, at least when embodied, totally different from buddhi, intelligence, insofar as his knowledge of prakṛti arises from his awareness of buddhi.
He is not the same as buddhi, because buddhi has external things (cows, pots, etc.) as its object of attention and is therefore always changing, while puruṣa is unchanging and has only buddhi as the object of its attention. Moreover, buddhi exists solely for the sake of puruṣa, while puruṣa exists for its own sake only. Finally, buddhi is inert, unconscious, and composed of the three guṇas, whereas puruṣa is the active spectator, the source of consciousness, and beyond the three guṇas. On the other hand, puruṣa is not totally distinct from buddhi in practice because, even though puruṣa is pure and self-contained in essence, by witnessing the transformations of buddhi in the form of thoughts and cognitions, pratyayas, etc., it appears as if those thoughts pertain to puruṣa itself, that they are puruṣa rather than the flickerings of an external and inert but subtle substance. Puruṣa sees its reflection in the mirror of buddhi, say the commentators, and the mind mistakes this reflection in the mirror, which is distorted due to the transformations of the guṇas, to be the real self. Puruṣa does not change or transform; buddhi does.
Therefore, it is said, says Vyāsa, that although puruṣa is the experiencer and does not change or pursue the objects of the senses, it appears to do so by its identification with the transformations of buddhi, which does change and does pursue the objects of the senses. Indeed, it is only when buddhi takes the form of the objects of the senses, the pratyayas, noted here (see I.10), that these objects become known to puruṣa via the medium of buddhi. And it is only puruṣa who can inherently know, says Vijñānabhikṣu; buddhi does not know, that is to say, is not conscious of the objects of the senses that it is processing and that it exhibits to puruṣa. One might analogize that the software of a computer is not conscious of the material that it is processing and that it exhibits on its screen. As the computer needs a witness to know the data, so does buddhi.
Thus, as a result of being identified with buddhi, puruṣa appears to assume the qualities of buddhi. The consciousness of puruṣa, although not in reality changing, witnesses or follows as a spectator the transformations of buddhi and therefore rests on (is aware of) each object that comes into the sphere of the ever-changing buddhi. Whatever buddhi is transformed into is colored by consciousness, says Vācaspati Miśra, as a result of their contact. Although the moon is not transformed into water, he continues, it appears to be so due to its reflection in water. This Vedāntic analogy works well: Water in a lake or an ocean is transformed or agitated by waves, ripples, foam, etc. When the moon shines upon this disturbed surface, its reflection also becomes rippled and agitated due to the disturbed surface of the water. Ignorance is mistaking the disrupted reflection to be the true moon. Due to ignorance, puruṣa is misidentified with the disturbed reflection of buddhi, which is taken to be the real self. Like an echo, says Vijñānabhikṣu, a sound that emanates from a source and then bounces off an object to return back to that source in somewhat distorted fashion, the consciousness of puruṣa bounces back from buddhi in the form of a distorted reflection, and thus puruṣa becomes aware of the disturbed buddhi along with its bhāva, or quality, of ignorance. The Sāṅkhya Kārikās speaks of buddhi as having eight bhāvas (virtue, knowledge, nonattachment, potency, and their opposites, including ignorance) (XXIII). Buddhi thus becomes aware of ignorance even though the ignorance is not in puruṣa—which, by definition, is pure awareness—but rather in buddhi.
Not only does puruṣa appear changed due to this symbiosis, but inert buddhi appears to be conscious due to being energized by consciousness, continues Vijñānabhikṣu, just as sunlight falling on the sea makes the sea appear to be luminous like the sun. (Verse XX of the Saṅkhya Kārikās states that that which is unconscious appears as if conscious.) Therefore, puruṣa is witnessing not only its own reflection but one that appears to be energized, or animate, and this further enhances the tendency of misidentification.
This misidentification of puruṣa with buddhi transformed or agitated by the three guṇas, the objects of this world, is the cause of bondage. Its freedom, says Vijñānabhikṣu, cannot come about through the conventional means of knowledge—the senses, mind, intelligence, etc.—since its nature is essentially different from these. It can come about only through its own nature. Its own nature is pure knowledge, that is, exclusive awareness of its own self, rather than of the objects of prakṛti.
Hariharānanda adds to this that the existence of puruṣa is evidenced by the fact that the sense of I is constant at all times. One may say, “I know something,” where the thing one knows pertains to whatever is being presented at any point in time by buddhi and is always changing, but the I who knows remains constant. Likewise even with the notion “I know myself”: The myself that is known also pertains to ever-changing buddhi—one may think of oneself in many different ways throughout the various stages of one’s life—but the I is always constant. As soon as this I begins to know something—anything—then the misidentification of buddhi with puruṣa, the erroneous notion that puruṣa is buddhi, has occurred, since all knowable things are the products of prakṛti. All knowledge thus requires the presence of the overseer, puruṣa, and of something seen, an object in prakṛti.
This misidentification of the seer and the seen, continues Hariharānanda, is the product of ahaṅkāra, the ego. As a result of this misidentification, the distinction between puruṣa and buddhi is not perceived in ordinary consciousness. Buddhi resembles puruṣa to some extent, and vice versa. Inanimate buddhi appears to be animate because it is energized by the consciousness of the animate puruṣa, and the unchanging puruṣa appears to be ever-changing and mutable because its consciousness pervades the ever-changing and mutable buddhi; hence Vyāsa’s statement that they are neither the same nor different.
The Seer Is Absolute Knower. Although Pure, Modifications (Of Buddhi) Are Witnessed By Him As An Onlooker.
Pure awareness is just seeing, itself; although pure, it usually appears to operate through the perceiving mind.
The Seer is pure consciousness only. Even though it appears to see by directing thoughts and concepts, it remains unchanged by the mind’s operations.
The Seer is pure consciousness but though pure, appears to see through the mind.
The Seer is pure consciousness but though pure, appears to see through the mind.
The Seer is nothing but the power of seeing which, although pure, appears to see through the mind.
Satchidananda Commentary:
After discussing Prakṛti, Patañjali talks about the Seer, or Puruṣa. Even though the light is pure and never-changing, it appears to change because of the medium of nature. The sun’s rays appear to bend when they pass through a section of water although they do not actually bend. A filament gives pure light but appears to be red because of the red glass that surrounds it. Likewise, we are all the same light; but we do not look alike, act alike or think alike because of the nature of our bodies and minds. If the mind accumulates some ideas of law, we become lawyers; some knowledge of medicine, we become doctors. If we have no ideas, we are called fools. So, although the original substance is the same, we appear to be different.
Through Yogic thinking we can see the entire humanity as our own. We can embrace all without any exceptions. Even the worst sinner will be loved by us because we ourselves were once sinners. Today’s sinner is tomorrow’s saint. We will never criticize a sinner if we realize that we were once in the same boat. Instead, we can give the so-called sinner a helping hand. If a baby dirties its diaper, you take it out of the crib, clean it and put on a new diaper. You don’t criticize it. If you wish to criticize it, you have no business being with that child.
So Yoga helps in every aspect of our lives, from the White House to the outhouse. It’s not something to be experienced only after sixty years of practice, but something that can benefit everyone now.
The seer is intelligence only, and though pure, seen through the colouring of the intellect.
SV Commentary:
This is again Sankhya philosophy. We have seen from this philosophy that from the lowest form up to intelligence all is nature, but beyond nature are Purusas (souls), and these have no qualities. Then how does the soul appear to be happy or unhappy? By reflection. Just as if be piece of pure crystal be put on a table and a red flower be put near it, the crystal appears to be red, so all these appearances of happiness or unhappiness are but reflections; the soul itself has no sort of colouring. The soul is separate from nature; nature is one thing, soul another, eternally separate. The Sankhyas say that intelligence is a compounds, that it grows and wanes, that it changes, just as the body changes, and that its nature is nearly the same as that of the body. As a fingernail is to the body, so is body to intelligence. The nail is a part of the body, but it can be pared off hundreds of times, and the body will still last. Similarly, the intelligence lasts æons, while this body can be pared off, thrown off. Yet intelligence cannot be immortal, because is changes— growing and waning. Anything that changes cannot be immortal. Certainly intelligence is manufactured, and that very fact shows us that there must be something beyond that, because it cannot be free. Everything connected with matter is in nature, and therefore bound for ever. Who is free? That free one must certainly be beyond cause and effect. If you say that the idea of freedom is a delusion, I will say that the idea of bondage is also a delusion. Two facts come into our consciousness, and stand or fall by each other. One is that we are bound. If we want to go through a wall, and our head bumps against that wall, we are limited by that wall. At the same time we find will, and think we can direct our will everywhere. At every step these contradictory ideas are coming to us. We have to believe that we are free, yet at every moment we find we are not free. If one idea is a delusion, the other is also a delusion, because both stand upon the same basis—consciousness. The Yogi says both are true; that we are bound so far as intelligence goes, that we are free as far as the soul is concerned. It is the real nature of man, the Soul, the Purusa, which is beyond all law of causation. Its freedom is percolating through layers and layers of matter, in various forms of intelligence, and mind, and all these things. It is its light which is shining through all. Intelligence has no light of its own. Each organ has a particular centre in the brain; it is not that all the organs have one centre; each organ is separate. Why do all these perceptions harmonise, and where do they get their unity? If it were in the brain there would be one centre only for the eyes, the nose, the ears, while we know for certain that there are different centres for each. But a man can see and hear at the same time, so a unity must be back of intelligence. Intelligence is eternally connected with the brain, but behind even intelligence stands the Purusa, the unit, where all these different sensations and perceptions join and become one. Soul itself is the centre where all the different organs converge and become unified, and that Soul is free, and it is its freedom that tells you every moment that you are free. But you mistake, and mingle that freedom every moment with intelligence and mind. You try to attribute that freedom to the intelligence, and immediately find that intelligence is not free; you attribute that freedom to the body, and immediately nature tells you that you are again mistaken. That is why there is this mingled sense of freedom and bondage at the same time. The Yogi analyses both what is free and what is bound, and his ignorance vanishes. He finds that the Purusa is free, is the essence of that knowledge which, coming through the Buddhi, becomes intelligence, and, as such, is bound.
The knowable has been described. Discussion is now begun with the object of describing and ascertaining the nature of the seer (knower). ‘ The seer is consciousness only : even though pure, he cognizes ideas by imitation.
‘ Consciousness only’ : This means that he is nothing other than the power of becoming conscious ; that is to say, he is not touched by the qualities. This Purusa cognizes the Will-to-be by reflex action.’ He is neither quite similar nor quite dissimilar to the Will-to-be (buddhi). ‘ He is not quite similar.’ Why ? The Will-to-be haying for its sphere of action objects known, and not yet known, is of course changeful. The changefulness is shown by its objects, such as the cow and the jar, &c., being both known and unknown. The fact, however, that the sphere of consciousness is always the Known , renders it plain that consciousness is not changeful. How? It never happens that the Will-toknow becomes the sphere of consciousness both when it takes in some notion and when it does not. Hence it is proved that the Known is always the sphere of the Purusa. Thence the unchangeability of the Purusa is shown. Further the Will-to-be exists to fulfil another’s object, bringing as it does more than one phenomenon together into itself, for the purpose of presenting them to the Purusa. The Purusa, however, has his own object before it.
Besides the Will-to-be is the underlying determinative energy of all objective phenomena, and is as such of the nature of the qualities. It is, therefore, non-intelligent. The Purusa, however, is the seer of the qualities by proximity. For these reasons he is not similar.
Well then let him be dissimilar. To meet this he says : — ‘He is not quite dissimilar.’ Why? ‘Even though pure, he sees the ideas after they have come into the mind.’ Inasmuch as the Purusa cognizes the ideas as the Will-to-be seized of consciousness is transformed into them, he appears by the act of cognition to be as it were the very self of the Will-to-be, although in reality lie is not so. As it has been said : — ‘ The power of the enjoyer is certainly unchangeable, and it does not run after every object. In connection with a changeful object it looks as it were being transferred to every object, and imitates its modifications.
And when that modification of the Will-to-be assumes the form of consciousness by which it is coloured, it imitates it and looks as if it were a manifestation of consciousness unqualified by the modifications .of the Will-to-be. It is accordingly so spoken of.
draṣṭā ()
dṛśi ()
mātraḥ ()
śuddhaḥ ()
api ()
pratyaya ()
anupaśyaḥ ()