Dispassion is the controlled consciousness of one who is without craving for sense objects, whether these are actually perceived, or described [in scripture].

Bryant Commentary:

After defining practice, Patañjali turns to the second element in the restraint of the mind, vairāgyam, dispassion, renunciation. He defines dispassion as the absence of craving for sense objects, viṣaya. As examples of sense objects, Vyāsa mentions members of the opposite sex, food, drink, and power. He notes that such dispassion or detachment precludes the inclination either to accept or reject such objects, even when they are available. That renunciation involves disinterest toward indulging in sense objects is straightforward, but Vyāsa’s observation that it also involves disinterest to overly rejecting them merits

“attention. Too much energy and fanfare dedicated to overly rejecting sense objects can often indicate a hidden attachment to those very objects that is being overcompensated for. Real detachment is indifference to sense objects whether in their absence or presence. As Vācaspati Miśra points out, one might be free from desires for objects because one knows nothing about them, but this does not qualify as dispassion; dispassion is indifference to objects even when these are available. Vaśīkāra means to have control over; thus Bhoja Rāja states, with regard to desires, “I am not in their control—they are in my control.

With II.33–34 in mind, Vyāsa states that one who is renounced understands the defects of sensuality from reflection on its consequences, or, as Vijñānabhikṣu puts it, renunciation arises specifically from perceiving the defects of indulging in the objects of the senses, in other words, from discrimination. This is significant: The tradition does not take the position that sensual desires somehow disappear; desires are imprints of past pleasurable experiences that are recorded in the citta as saṁskāras. Saṁskāras never disappear; they always remain latent (except in the exceptional cases when they are burnt by yogic practice). When they reactivate, they create desires, the impulse to re-create the pleasurable experience (the desire to avoid unpleasant experiences works along parallel lines). As Vācaspati Miśra notes, the power of renunciation comes not from being free from desires but from being indifferent to them.

The discriminating yogī cultivates this indifference by recognizing that any sensual gratification, irrespective of how pleasurable, is temporary. Sooner or later, one is separated from the object of gratification and consequently experiences frustration. Through discrimination, one recognizes this inherent defect of sensual indulgence. One is also astute enough to realize realistically that there is always a karmic price to pay for the pursuit of pleasure (all actions, good or bad, when based on seeking gratification, generate correspondingly good or bad reactions and thus perpetuate saṁsāra). Simply put, renunciation “consists in the idea of ‘enough’” of this sense gratification, says Vijñānabhikṣu. One becomes exhausted with the unending pursuit of seeking fulfillment in this way but attaining only temporary and unfulfilling (from an ultimate perspective) pleasures. Therefore, the wise strive for detachment and the eternal experience of the soul rather than the never-ending pursuit of ephemeral pleasure. This is a recurring theme in the Gītā:

Detached from the external contact [of the senses with their objects] a person finds happiness in the ātman. Such a person, engaged in practicing the yoga of Brahman [the Absolute Truth], experiences eternal happiness. Material pleasures are born from the contact [of the senses with the sense objects]; they have a beginning and an end, and so they are the source of unhappiness. The wise do not delight in them. (V.21–22)

However, Vijñānabhikṣu also cautions that renunciation in and of itself does not guarantee success in yoga, and mentions the case of the sage Saubhari. The Bhāgavata Purāṇa (IX.6.40ff) tells the story of a sage whose desire for renunciation was so intense that he resolved to meditate under water so as to eliminate all the distractions of the sensual temptations of the world. However, he happened to open his eyes one day and notice two fish mating. This activated latent erotic saṁskāras in his own mind (perhaps from experiences recorded from previous births), and he again became overwhelmed with fantasies of sexual enjoyment, abandoned his meditation, and returned to worldly life. As noted, in normal circumstances, saṁskāras are not destroyed; they remain latent until suitable conditions arise for reactivation. Therefore, excessive renunciation in and of itself does not necessarily guarantee that one is freed from the potential reemergence of undesirable saṁskāras.

Vijñānabhikṣu outlines various stages of detachment: One begins by making an effort to break attachment; next one determines that detachment has been accomplished toward certain objects, while others still need some work; and then, when detachment from all the external objects of the senses has been achieved, one begins to target internal attachments. These include such things as the attachment to honor and respect, and the opposite, the dislike of dishonor and disrespect. One may be externally very renounced and austere but internally be very attached to the prestige renunciation can bring (for example, the reputation of being a great yogī, or of having many followers). In this way, one slowly starves the karmāśaya, the storehouse of karma discussed in II.12, by giving up all desires for the fruits of actions, thereby preventing the further planting of karmic seeds.

The commentators elaborate on Patañjali’s comment here that there are two types of sense objects: There are the dṛṣṭa, those seen in this world, the everyday sensual pleasures of life; and those that are not seen here but are anuśravika, heard about (anu + śru = to hear from authorities). This is a reference to Vedic texts, more commonly referred to as śruti (from the same root), texts that are transmitted and recited orally, and thus heard, and therefore is an indirect reference to the pleasures of the celestial realms referred to in these texts. Vyāsa states that detachment requires that one be indifferent also to the heavenly enticements described in the Vedas and such texts (as well as attainments from yoga practice such as those outlined in the next verse, and the mystic powers outlined in Chapter III).

The celestial realms mentioned in various Sanskrit literature as early as the Vedic hymns, but more elaborately in the Purāṇas, point to other worlds or dimensions within the material universe where the level of enjoyment, duration of life span, and quality of experience far exceed anything available in this world. These worlds are the destination of the pious—that is, the good karma accrued by the performance of dharma, socioreligious duty, can translate into sojourns in these celestial realms. By the later Upaniṣadic period, however, these realms were perceived to have a defect in that they, too, involve embodied existence within the confines of saṁsāra—they are not the ultimate or permanent destination of the soul. When the good karma, or righteous deeds, of the pious that earned them a place in these realms has expired, such souls return again to this world. Good karma is accumulated like money in the bank. When one starts to draw on one’s credit, however much one has accumulated, sooner or later the account will be depleted. Likewise, upon attaining the celestial realms as a result of the accumulation of merit while on earth, souls are able to remain there until their karmic bank account is inevitably depleted, at which point they again return to this world where suffering is much more pronounced.

“In this sūtra, Patañjali is implicitly criticizing aspects of Vedic ritualism, which, while on the decline due to the rise of the ascetic traditions including Buddhism and the great theistic devotional traditions of Vaiṣṇavism and Śaivism, would still have been a mainstream religious presence in his day. One of the expressed goals of Vedic ritualism is the obtainment of the good things in life in this world, followed by the pleasures of the celestial realms in the next.88 The Vedic hymns often express a lusty desire for very earthly boons such as cows, offspring, victory over enemies, etc., which the sacrificer in the earlier Vedic period attempted to obtain by cajoling the gods who controlled such things and, in the middle Vedic period, by mastering the technology of ritual such that the gods were constrained to bestow these boons.

One can read the entire religious and philosophical history of post-Vedic India as a rejection of Vedic ritualism by communities that were eventually to become heterodox to the Vedic matrix—the Buddhists and Jains—and as a demotion or radical reinterpretation of it by those, such as Patañjali and the Yoga school, who remained in the orthodox Vedic fold. Among this latter category, a sometimes quite scathing critique of the ritualistic mind-set can be found in texts as early as the Muṇḍaka Upaniṣad, a late Vedic text:

The fools, who proclaim [the Vedic sacrifices] as the ultimate, return again to old age and death. Wallowing in ignorance, but imagining themselves wise and thinking themselves learned, the fools go about harming themselves, like blind men led by a man who is himself blind. Wallowing in ignorance again and again, these foolish people imagine, “We have attained our goals!” Because of their desires, these ritualists do not have foresight, therefore they fall back down, wretched and despondent, when their time in the celestial realms expires. Deeming sacrifices and gifts [to the ritual priests] as the highest, these idiots know nothing better. When they have enjoyed their pious work [i.e., the fruits of their karma] in the celestial realms, they return again to this miserable world.

But those [seekers of the self] in the forest, peaceful and wise, who practice austerity and faith, as they wander around as mendicants, pass through the doorway of the sun, spotless, to where that immortal puruṣa is, the eternal ātman. (I.7–11)

“The Upaniṣadic/Yogic view, expressed in this early context, is that pleasures in this world or the next are temporary and simply entwine one in the cycle of birth and death. The Gītā, too, is forceful in its rejection of Vedic ritualism in language that parallels that of the Yoga commentarial tradition.

Those who are ignorant subscribe to the flowery words [of the Veda], Arjuna. Reveling in the Vedic rites, they proclaim “there is nothing else but this.” Their hearts filled with desires, intent on the celestial realms, they take to the path of performing numerous variegated rites, which are dedicated to the attainment of opulence and sensual enjoyment, but which bestow rebirth as the fruit of action. To such people, attached to sensual enjoyment and opulence, whose minds have been stolen by these flowery words, a mind fixed in samādhi is not granted. (II.42–44)

Patañjali’s reference to disinterest in ānuśravika–viṣaya, the sense objects available from Vedic ritualism, falls in this same vein: Clearly the goals of yoga are in complete contrast to the lusty goals of the normative Vedic sacrificial cult that was still a mainstream presence in his day. Therefore, disinterest in this type of ritualism, whether Vedic or other, is a prerequisite to yoga.

Essentially, the critique here is one of materialistic religiosity—religiosity performed with the motive of enjoying the good things of the world. This criticism is thus perennially relevant to the attitudes underpinning religious traditions other than Hindu ones, which likewise promote worldly boons as the goal of religious practice. In other words (connecting this verse to modes of religiosity on our own horizons), engaging in religious activities with material motives for mundane goals conflicts with the transcendent goals of yoga. In sum, renunciation means not only disinterest in the visible things of this world but also disinterest in some of the worldly or celestial boons that might be promoted in sacred scripture itself.

One more comment is in order here. A general principle of Sanskrit hermeneutics is that a first item mentioned on a list carries more importance than any subsequent items. Thus, of the five vṛttis, pramāṇa, right knowledge, is listed first—it is the most important state of mind. And even within the three subdivisions of pramāṇa, the Yoga school prioritizes pratyakṣa, direct experience; hence this is situated as the first item of the pramāṇa sublist. Of the two ingredients of nirodha, then, by this principle, abhyāsa is situated before vairāgya, since, by practice, the by-products of dispassion, detachment, and renunciation arise spontaneously. It is therefore generally a precondition of the latter.

When The Mind Loses All Desires For Objects Seen Or Described In the Scriptures It Acquires A State of Utter Desirelessness Which is Called Detachment.

“Non-attachment
is the mastery of consciousness,
wherein one is free from craving
objects of enjoyment,
whether they have been perceived
or imagined from
promises in scriptures.”

Excerpt From
Yoga Sutras of Patanjali
Mukunda Stiles
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Non-attachment is the mastery of consciousness, wherein one is free from craving objects of enjoyment, whether they have been perceived or imagined from promises in scriptures.

The consciousness of perfect mastery (of desires) in the case of one who has ceased to crave for objects, seen or unseen, is Vairagya.

Taimini Commentary:

 This Sutra defines Vairagya the second general means of bringing about the suppression of Citta-Vrttis. The full significance of Vairagya and its role in bringing the mind to a condition of rest will be fully understood only after the study of the philosophy of Klesas outlined in Section II. Here we shall discuss only certain general principles. The word Vairagya is derived from the word Raga which has been defined in II-7 as the attraction which arises due to pleasure derived from any object. Vairagya therefore means the absence of any attraction towards objects which give pleasure. The question may be asked: why absence of attraction only, why not absence of repulsion also, because attraction and repulsion are a pair of opposites and repulsion binds the soul to the objects as much as attraction. The reason why Dvesa has been left out in the etymological expression of the idea as Vairagya is not oversight but the fact that Dvesa is really included in Raga and forms with it a pair of opposites. The alternation of attraction and repulsion between two individuals who are attached to each other shows the underlying relation of attraction and repulsion and their common derivation from attachment. So, non-attachment which means freedom from both attraction and repulsion correctly expresses the underlying meaning of Vairagya.

The reason why Vairagya plays such an important part in restraining and then eliminating Citta-Vrttis lies in the fact that desire in its two expressions of Raga and Dvesa is a tremendous driving and disturbing force which is incessantly producing Vrttis in the mind. In fact, in the earlier stages of evolutionary progress, desire is the sole driving force and the development of the mind takes place almost solely as a result of the constant driving to which it is subjected by desire. In the later stages other factors also come in and as desire gradually changes into will the latter more and more becomes the driving force behind the evolutionary development.

All aspirants who are treading the path of Yoga must therefore try to understand clearly the role which desire plays in our life and the manner in which it keeps the mind in a constant state of agitation. Many Sadhakas not realizing sufficiently the disturbing influence of desire try to practise meditation without giving sufficient attention to the problem of controlling desires with the result that they do not succeed to any considerable extent in freeing the mind from disturbances at the time of meditation. Trying to render the mind calm without eliminating desire is like trying to stop the movement of a boat on a surface of water which is being violently agitated by a strong wind. However much we may try to hold it down in one position by external force it will continue to move as a result of the impulses imparted to it by the waves. But if the wind dies down and the waves subside completely the boat will come to rest—in time—even without the application of an external force. So is the case with the mind. If the driving force of desire is eliminated completely the mind comes to rest (Niruddha state) naturally and automatically. The practice of Vairagya is the elimination of the driving force of desire using the word desire in its widest sense of Vasana as explained in Section IV. But the elimination of Citta-Vrtti by practising Vairagya alone, though theoretically possible, is neither feasible nor advisable. It is like trying to stop a car by merely shutting off the supply of gas. Why not also apply the brakes and make the car stop more rapidly and effectively. Herein comes the role of Abhyasa. Abhyasa and Vairagya are therefore jointly utilized for Citta-Vrtti-Nirodha. After this general consideration of the role of Vairagya let us now take note of some of the phrases used in I-15 with a view to understand the full implication of the definition given therein.

Visaya are the objects which produce the attraction and consequent attachment. They have been divided under two heads, those which are seen and those about which we merely hear, i.e. those which are mentioned in scriptures. Anusravika, of course, refers to the enjoyments which the followers of orthodox religions expect to gain in the life after death. The practice of Vairagya seeks to destroy the thirst for both kinds of enjoyments.

It will be seen from what has been stated above that the Yogic ideal is entirely different from the orthodox religious ideal. In the latter, a particular kind of life and conduct are prescribed and if the votary of the particular religion conforms to that code of conduct he expects to live after the dissolution of the physical body in a superphysical world with all kinds of enjoyments and means of happiness. The heavens of different religions may differ with regard to the amenities which they provide but the underlying idea is the same, i.e. a particular kind of life which consists in following certain observances and moral code ensures a happy life in the hereafter.

The Yogic philosophy does not deny the existence of heaven and hell but it places before the Yogi an ideal of achievement in which the enjoyments and pleasures of heaven life have no place because these also are temporary and subject to illusion. The enjoyments of the heaven world are nothing as compared with the bliss and powers which the Yogi acquires when his consciousness passes into the still higher planes of existence. Even these transcendent states have to be renounced by him in his progress towards his ultimate goal. Every power and pleasure which is ‘born’ out of contact with Prakrti and which is not contained in the Self and therefore does not make the Yogi self-contained is to be included in Anusravika Visaya.

It may be pointed out here that it is not the feeling of enjoyment on coming into contact with those Visayas which constitutes Trsna. In our contact with objects of senses some must necessarily produce a sensation of pleasure. When consciousness functions on the higher planes through the subtler vehicles bliss is the natural inevitable accompaniment but it is not this feeling of pleasure or bliss which constitutes Raga. It is the attraction and consequent attachment which is the cause of bondage and must be destroyed by the practice of Vairagya.

It is also necessary to remember that mere absence of attraction due to the inactivity of the body or satiety or preoccupation with other things does not constitute Vairagya. A man who becomes old may lose his sex-desire for the time being. A politician engaged in the pursuit of his ambitions may for the time being become indifferent to sensuous enjoyments. But this temporary indifference towards objects has nothing to do with Vairagya. The attraction is merely in abeyance ready to come to the surface as soon as the necessary conditions are present. What is needed for true Vairagya is the deliberate destruction of all attractions and the consequent attachments and conscious mastery over the desires. This is the meaning of the phrase Vasikara–Samjna. Control over the vehicles through which the desires are felt and the consciousness of mastery which comes from such control are the essential elements of Vairagya. For gaining this kind of mastery one should have come in contact with temptations of every kind and should have passed through ordeals of every description and come out not only triumphant but even without feeling the slightest attraction. For, if the attraction is felt, even though we may not succumb to the temptation, we have not completely mastered the desire. 

Renunciation is the practice of detachment from desires.

Iyengar Commentary:

When non-attachment and detachment are learned there is no craving for objects seen or unseen, words heard or unheard. Then the seer remains unmoved by temptations. This is the sign of mastery in the art of renunciation.

Non-attachment and detachment must be learned through willpower. They consist of learning to be free from cravings, not only for worldly, but also heavenly pleasures. Citta is taught to be unmoved by thoughts of desire and passion, and to remain in a state of pure consciousness, devoid of all objects and free even from the qualities of sattva, rajas and tamas.

The mind is considered by the sages to be the eleventh sense. The eyes, ears, nose, tongue and skin are the five senses of perception. The arms, legs, mouth, generative and excretory organs are the five organs of action. These are the external senses: the mind is an internal sense organ.

There are five states in vairagya.

1. Disengaging the senses from enjoyment of their objects, and controlling them, is yatamana. As it is not possible to control all the senses at once, one should attempt to control them one by one to achieve mastery over them all.
2. By thoughtful control, one burns away the desires which obstruct citta’s movement towards the soul. This is vyatireka.
3. When the five senses of perception and five organs of action have been weaned away from contact with objects, the feeblest desires remain in a causal state and are felt only in the mind: this is ekendriya. The mind wants to play a dual role: to fulfil the desires of the senses, and also to experience Self-Realization. Once the senses have been silenced, the mind moves with one-pointed effort towards Soul Realization.
4. Vasikara is attained when one has overcome all longings, and developed indifference to all types of attachment, non-attachment and detachment (see 1.40). All eleven senses have been subjugated.
5. From these develops paravairagya, the highest form of renunciation: it is free from the qualities of sattva, rajas and tamas. On attaining this state, the sadhaka ceases to be concerned with himself, or with others who remain caught in the web of pleasure (see Table 2 and 11.19).

Often we come across renounced persons who get caught in the pleasures and comforts of life and neglect their sadhana. We should learn from such examples and guard ourselves so that we develop firmness in our sadhana.

A bird cannot fly with one wing. It needs two wings to fly. To reach the highest spiritual goal, the two wings of yoga, abhyasa and vairagya are essential.

The consciousness of self-mastery in one who is free from craving from objects seen or heard about is non-attachment.

Satchidananda Commentary:

 Normally, the mind gets attached by seeing or hearing something. It is mainly through the eyes and ears that the mind goes out and gathers things to satisfy its desires. Before the mind is attracted to something it sees or hears, you should have discrimination to see whether that object is good for you or not. The mind should not just go and grasp as it wants.

Non-attachment should not be misunderstood to be indifference. Vairāgya (non-attachment) literally means “colorless.” Vi is “without;” rāga is “color.” Every desire brings its own color to the mind. The moment you color the mind, a ripple is formed—just as when a stone is thrown into a calm lake, it creates waves in the water. When the mind is tossed by these desires one after the other, there won’t be peace or rest in the mind. And with a restless mind you can’t have steady practice. When you want to do something constantly, your mind should not be distracted by other desires. That’s why this sort of dispassion or non-attachment must always go with the practice. Any practice without this non- attachment can never be fulfilled.

Many times people say, “Oh, I have been practicing meditation for so many years. I pray daily, morning and evening.” Yes, they do that; we have to accept it because we see them sitting in meditation every day or going to the church or temple. Sometimes they sit in front of the altar for hours and hours. There are people who read the whole Bible every day. There are people who repeat the Bhagavad Gītā every day—they won’t even eat until they do that. The moment they get up, they go in front of the altar and repeat the entire Gītā before even drinking a glass of water! But still they remain in the same state. The reason is that their minds are still dissipated because of the different desires. How many people stand in front of the altar and think of their business or allow their eyes to wander about to see how many of their friends are there? Temples and churches have become social centers. They have lost their original purpose because the minds of the people are more attracted to worldly things than to prayer. The lips may repeat the prayer mechanically like a phonograph record, but the mind wanders to other places. That’s why you can’t collect and compose the mind unless it is free from distracting desires. Meditation is possible only when the mind is free from attachment. In fact, you need not even practice meditation if your mind is completely free from all selfish desire. You will see that you are always at ease; you will never become restless and never disappointed. So we need the practice and the non-attachment; and, of these two, the non-attachment is the more important.

Immediately somebody will ask, “If you are unattached, won’t you lose all incentive and become dull?” No. When we say unattached, it means without personal desires. If you really want to be greedy, be greedy in serving others. Try to remove the suffering of other people. Once you are unattached in your personal life, you can serve others, and by doing that you will find more and more joy. That’s why sometimes I say that the selfless person is the most selfish one. Why? Because a selfless person doesn’t want to lose his or her peace and happiness.

Even with God, do not have personal desire or attachment. Many people approach God and say, “God, give me this; give me that; help me win this campaign, ” or “If you help me pass this examination, I will light ten candles.” We try to do business with God. It only shows our own ignorance. Those very candles were given to us by God, so what is the idea of giving them back to God as if we have created something? Our desirous mind deludes us, and we become ignorant. The discrimination of a desirous person gets completely faded. His or her interest is to achieve things, that’s all; the desirous person doesn’t bother to wait and think.

The Vedantic scriptures say: “Even the desire for liberation is a bondage.” “Mokṣabhekṣo bandhaḥ.” Even if you desire liberation, you are binding yourself. Every desire binds you and brings restlessness. To get the liberation you have to be completely desireless.

Is it possible to be desireless? No. Actually, it is not possible. As long as the mind is there, its duty is to desire. It seems to be contradictory. But the secret is that any desire without any personal or selfish motive will never bind you. Why? Because the pure, selfless desire has no expectation whatsoever, so it knows no disappointment no matter what the result. But though it expects nothing, it has its own reward. When you make someone happy, you see his or her happy face and feel happy yourself. If you have really experienced the joy of just giving something for the sake of giving, you will wait greedily for opportunities to get that joy again and again.

Many people think that by renouncing everything, by becoming selfless and desireless, there is no enjoyment. No. That is not so. Instead, you become the happiest man or woman. The more you serve, the more happiness you enjoy. Such a person knows the secret of life. There is a joy in losing everything, in giving everything. You cannot be eternally happy by possessing things. The more you possess, the more sad you become. Haven’t we seen millionaires, people of high position, prime ministers, presidents? Are they happy? No. The higher the position, the greater the trouble. Only a saint, a renunciate, is always happy because there is nothing for a saint to lose. Because you don’t have anything, you have your Self always. That is the secret. That’s why we say, “Ha v e vairāgya, have dispassion, have non-attachment.” By renouncing worldly things, you possess the most important sacred property: your peace.

There is another aspect, or benefit, of non-attachment. It is mainly a person with a detached mind who can do a job perfectly. As an example, the other day I received a letter from a disciple who runs one of my centers. Another Yoga teacher visited this center and asked, “Don’t your students ask for something more? In my classes, if I don’t teach something new each class, they say, ‘What is this? We paid you and got this yesterday. You are teaching us the same thing today; why should we pay more? Unless you give us something new, we won’t pay you more.’ So I carefully arrange my lessons in such a way that every day I can add something new, so that I can ask for more money. But here, I see the same old stuff every day, and people are coming more and more—and nobody seems to be disappointed.”

Then my child said, “We don’t sell Yoga; we just teach for our joy. The people contribute as they want. There’s no business here, but rather the heart is working. Probably in your case you expect money, and so you are interested in teaching something new every time to get more people and more money.”

It is a fact. The same thing is happening in our other hatha classes also. For years now, people have been coming to the classes and each class has been more or less the same. And every time they come, they contribute something without ever getting tired of it. They could practice the same thing at home, but still they come to the classes because they don’t feel the vibration of business there, but the vibration of Yoga. That is what they don’t want to miss.

Even in my lectures, I don’t quote many scriptures or try to give something new every time. Probably if I were to play back tapes of my past talks, it would be the same ideas again and again. People might say, “The Swami says nothing new—the same old Swami, the same old stuff. Why do they listen again and again?” I feel happy and they all feel happy being there, so they make me happy and I make them happy. We just spend a little happy time together, that’s all. We just talk about something or do something in the name of Yoga. Yes, that is the secret. There is a joy in being together, that’s all. So that is the life of detachment. There is no expectation. We just come together. They don’t feel that they are losing their money, and I don’t feel that I am gaining their money. We are all as one family. We pool our money, our energy and our ideas. What else do we want in this life? And that is Yoga.

So, when the mind is free from personal interest, we do our work well and feel joyful. Our lives become meaningful. If our minds are free from selfishness and there is sacrifice in everyone’s lives, the very world becomes a heaven, an abode of peace and bliss. Everything in this life gives. Sacrifice is the law of life. That is why we admire and adore people who have given their lives for the sake of humanity. Why do we worship Jesus and the cross? Because sacrifice is the meaning of that cross. He sacrificed himself, and we worship that quality; it is not the piece of wood we appreciate, but the sacrifice it represents. He gave his very life for the sake of humanity. It is because of that sacrifice that all the prophets, sages and saints are worshipped as divine beings or as God. It is not only saints, but everything in nature—trees, birds, animals— they all live for the sake of others. Why does a candle burn and melt away? To give light. Why does an incense stick burn to ash? To give fragrance. Why does a tree grow? To give fruit and flowers. Is there anything, sentient or insentient, in this world that lives for its own sake? No. When the entire nature sacrifices, why should we human beings alone lead selfish lives? We are here to give and give and give. What is due to us will come without our worrying about it.

Of course, even here we can wonder, “If I am to lead a sacrificial life, how can I eat, how can I clothe myself or have a house of my own?” You can have all these things to equip yourself to serve others. You must have a bed to rest in to feel refreshed in the morning, in order to go out to serve others. You must eat to have enough energy to serve others. So you do everything with the idea that you are preparing yourself to serve others. Even the practice of meditation is not done just for your own peace but is done because with a peaceful mind you can go out into the world and serve well. With that very idea you can meditate. So, even your Yogic meditation becomes a selfless action. That is what is meant by “Even with God do not have attachment.” This vairāgya, or nonattachment, alone is enough to change your entire life into a joyful one. 16. Tat param Puruṣa khyāter

That effort, which comes to those who have given up their thirst after objects either seen or heard, and which wills to control the objects, is non-attachment.

SV Commentary:

Two motives of our actions are (1) What we see ourselves; (2) The experience of others. These two forces are throwing the mind, the lake, into various waves. Renunciation is the power of battling against these, and holding the mind in check. Renunciation of these two motives is what we want. I am passing through a street, and a man comes and takes my watch. That is my own experience. I see it myself, and it immediately throws my Chitta into a wave, taking the form of anger. Allow that not to come. If you cannot prevent that, you are nothing; if you can, you have Vairagyam. Similarly, the experience of the worldly-minded teaches us that sense enjoyments are the highest ideal. These are tremendous temptations. To deny them, and not allow the mind to come into a wave form with regard to them is renunciation; to control the twofold motive powers arising from my own experience, and from the experience of others, and thus prevent the Chitta from being governed by them, is Vairagyam. These should be controlled by me, and not I by them. This sort of mental strength is called renunciation. This Vairagyam is the only way to freedom.

A mind free from attachment to perceptible enjoyments, such as women, foods, drinks, and power, and having no thirst for scriptural enjoyables, such as heaven and the attainment of the states of the Videha and the Prakritilaya, has, when it comes into contact with such divine and worldly objects, a consciousness of its supremacy, due to an understanding of the defects of the objects, brought about by virtue of intellectual illumination. This consciousness of power is the same as the consciousness of indifference to their enjoyment, and is devoid of all desirable and undesirable objects as such. This mental state is desirelessness (Vairagya).

~ Rāma Prasāda translation.