Yoga is the stilling of the changing states of the mind.

Bryant Commentary:

There are various definitions of yoga expressed in different traditions which, while all overlapping, reflect the fact that yoga referred to a cluster of practices featuring various forms of discipline and mind control practiced by many differing ascetics and communities on the landscape of ancient India with a view to liberation from the sufferings of embodied life; it was not associated with a distinct school until well into the Common Era.24 In the Kaṭha Upaniṣad, for example, “yoga is believed to be when the senses are firmly under control” (VI.11), while in the karma-yoga (path of action) section of the Bhagavad Gītā, yoga is defined as samatvam, evenness of mind (II.48) and as karmasu kauśalam, skill in action (II.50). Elsewhere, the text defines yoga as duḥkha-saṁyoga-viyogam, separation from union with pain (VI.23), which is essentially the definition given in the Vaiśeṣika Sūtras: duḥkhābhāvaḥ, the absence of pain (V.2.1625), a definition that finds its roots in the Kaṭha Upaniṣad (II.12).26 The Nyāya Sūtras associate the practice of yoga with the attainment of liberation (IV.2.46). While his teachings will incorporate all the above definitions, Patañjali here gives his formal definition of yoga for the classical school of Yoga itself: “Yoga is the stilling of all thought.”

The commentators have packed a considerable amount of rather dense information into their commentaries in this sūtra, since Patañjali has basically defined and summarized the entire system of Yoga here, and the commentaries use this sūtra to lay out the infrastructure of the psychology and metaphysics of the yoga process. Although an attempt will be made here to present the information in stages, the unfamiliar reader might well feel alarmed or overwhelmed by the sudden immersion in yogic concepts and Sanskrit terms presented in the commentary to this sūtra. The task is complicated somewhat since the commentators presuppose that their readers are aware of the system of Sāṇkhya, one of the other six schools of orthodox Indian thought with which the Yoga school is typically coupled.

Having said this, there are advantages to the “sudden-immersion” technique into Yoga psychology that follows, since once the basics are grasped, the teachings of Yoga become progressively clearer as one advances through the text. The reader unfamiliar with Hindu metaphysics is reassured that if a clear and coherent picture of Yoga psychology is not gained at this early stage, the material presented in the commentary for this sūtra will be unpacked, explained, reiterated, and elaborated upon repeatedly and in great detail throughout the remainder of the text such that one soon becomes familiar with the system. Additionally, there are a dozen or more technical Sanskrit words that are retained throughout this translation, which do not translate succinctly into English, and a number of them will be introduced here in rapid succession, but, again, readers will become familiar with them by dint of sheer repetition. That said, the commentary for this sūtra remains unavoidably challenging since it presents something of a synopsis of Yoga psychology and practice, and an understanding of these requires a prior discussion of Sāṅkhya and Yoga metaphysics.

The first of the Yoga Sūtras introduced the subject matter of the text, a discussion of yoga, and this second sūtra proceeds to define what this yoga is. According to Patañjali’s definition in this sūtra, yoga is the cessation (nirodha) of the permutations or activities (vṛttis) of the citta. In order to define citta, perhaps the most important entity in yoga practice, one must become familiar with ultimate reality as elaborated upon in the Sāṅkhya (literally, numeration) system. As we know, in Sāṅkhya, ultimate reality is perceived as the product of two distinct ontological categories: prakṛti, or the primordial material matrix of the physical universe, and puruṣa, pure awareness, the innermost conscious self or soul (the terms “consciousness” and “awareness,” although problematic,28 will be used interchangeably in this commentary to refer to the nature of the puruṣa). As a result of the contact between these two distinct entities, prakṛti and puruṣa, the material universe evolves in a sequential fashion.

To reiterate, the first and subtlest evolutes from the material matrix, according to Sāṅkhya, are, in order: buddhi, intelligence; ahaṅkāra, ego; and manas, mind. These layers, which are grouped together under the rubric of the “internal body,” constitute the inner life of an individual, and the puruṣa soul is cloaked in these psychic layers prior to receiving a gross physical body equipped with senses. The term citta (from cit, to think, consider, fix the mind on) is used in this sūtra and throughout the text by Patañjali and the commentators to refer to all three of these cognitive functions combined (the Yoga school differs somewhat from that of Sāṅkhya in conceiving these three as interacting functions of the one citta, mind, rather than as three distinct metaphysical layers), but the main point, as stressed in the last sūtra, is that they are distinct from the soul proper.

Buddhi, intelligence, is the aspect of citta that produces, among other things, the functions of thought connected to judgment, discrimination, knowledge, ascertainment, and will (from budh, to wake up, be aware of). It is the most important aspect of the citta as it is from its function of discrimination that liberation is achieved. Additionally, it is buddhi that molds itself into the forms of the data funneled to it by manas, below, and presents these images to the puruṣa soul, to which it is immediately adjacent. Buddhi is thus the liaison between puruṣa as pure awareness, and the objects, whether physical or psychic, of which puruṣa can be aware.

Ahaṅkāra, or ego, produces the function of thought related to self-awareness, self-identity, and self-conceit (the personal pronoun aham means I, and kāra, the doer). This is the aspect of citta that causes notions of I-ness and my-ness: “I know,” “I am a man,” “I am happy,” “This is mine.” It also delimits awareness, which is potentially omnipresent, and refracts it to fit into the contours of the particular body and mind within which it finds itself. It is because of ego that the awareness of an ant is limited to the range of the ant’s senses and the conceptual structure of its mind, while the awareness of an elephant has a larger range, and that of a human an even larger range. This restructuring of the lens of ahaṅkāra, so to speak, is the result of specific sets of saṁskāras (imprints from present and past lives, which will be discussed in I.5), relevant to any particular form—bug, dog, or human—activating at the appropriate time.

Manas, the mind, is the aspect of citta that engages in the functions of thought especially related to organizing sensory input and directing the senses; it imposes a conceptual structure on the chaotic field of raw sensations, recognizing and identifying sensual impetuses and categorizing them (from man, to think, believe). It exhibits attraction to some sensory possibilities and aversion to others—in other words, the functions of feeling, emotion, and desiring. It is the bridge connecting the world of the sense objects as accessed through the sense organs; the ego, which appropriates this under the notion of I; and the intelligence, which judges, evaluates, and strategizes over the input to determine what its duty (dharma) is in relation to the data it is receiving from the mind and senses (that is, what to do about it, how to respond or act). In his commentary to the Sāṅkhya Kārikā (36), Vācaspati Miśra says:

“As the village chief collects rent from the heads of the families and presents it to the district chief, who delivers it to the chief superintendent, who delivers it to the king, so the sense organs, having perceived an external object, deliver it to the mind, who considers it and delivers it to the ego, who appropriates it and delivers it to the intelligence, the chief superintendent of all. Thus it is said “they present it to intelligence, [thereby] illuminating the purpose of the puruṣa.“

I will gloss the Sanskrit word citta throughout this discussion with the term mind for ease of reference, since this is how it is usually translated, but it should be noted that the term encapsulates all of the the functions of thought outlined above, and not just that of manas, which is also usually translated as mind (when I use mind in the latter sense, I will qualify it by the Sanskrit term manas). Vijñānabhikṣu states that the citta is the one unified internal organ, and this becomes manifest in the various functions of intelligence, ego, and mind because of vṛttis.

The vṛttis indicated by Patañjali in this sūtra will be categorized into five basic types in I.5 and discussed thereafter, and so we will simply note at this point that they ultimately refer to any permutation or activity of the mind, in other words, any sequence of thought, ideas, mental imaging, or cognitive act performed by either the mind, intellect, or ego as defined above, or any state of the mind at all including deep sleep. The verbal root vṛt means to revolve, turn, proceed, move, and underscores the always active, sequential, rambling aspect of the mind. The mind is a physical substance in Hindu thought in general and assumes the forms of the sense data presented to it. The ensuing sense impressions, thoughts, or states are products made of that mental substance, just as a gold statue is a form made from the substance gold, or a clay pot is a form from the substance clay. These constantly moving mental images, states, or formations in the citta are vṛttis. If citta is the sea, the vṛttis are its waves, the specific forms it takes. (They will be defined in I.5 below.) I will gloss the term vṛtti with states or activities of mind or fluctuations of thought, and I will refer to puruṣa as pure consciousness or pure awareness. The essential point Patañjali is making here is that since all forms or activities of the mind are products of prakṛti, matter, and completely distinct from the soul or true self, puruṣa, they must all be restrained in order for the soul to be realized by the yogī as an autonomous entity distinct from the mind.

Since, as Vyāsa notes, the soul in its pure state is considered to be free of content and changeless—it does not transform and undergo permutations in the way the mind constantly does—Vijñānabhikṣu raises the issue of how it can be aware of objects at all in the first place. Awareness of objects is brought is brought about by means of buddhi, the intellect. The intelligence is the first interface between the soul and the external world. The sense objects provide images that are received through the senses, sorted by the manas, the thinking and organizing aspect of citta, and presented to the intellect. Although inanimate, the intellect molds itself into the form and shape of these objects of experience, thoughts, and ideas. Vijñānabhikṣu compares this process to liquid copper being poured into a mold and taking the exact shape of the mold, although the forms into which buddhi is molded are extremely subtle and psychic in nature. This molding of the citta into these thoughts and ideas is the vṛttis referred to by Patañjali in this sūtra.

This process can be compared to dull, opaque external objects being captured as photographic images on film, which is both translucent and representational, or to geometric patterns on a stained-glass window (Schweitzer 1993, 853), which are again both translucent and representational. That is to say, images on film or in stained glass are translucent enough to allow the light to filter through them, which, on account of the opaqueness of matter, is not the case with the original external gross objects they represent (due to the greater tāmasic component).38 But they are also representational, insofar as these external objects are still indirectly represented as images on the film or forms in the stained-glass windows, becoming visible when pervaded by light. Due to adjacency, the pure consciousness of the soul shines onto the intellect and animates it with consciousness, like a lamp illuminates the film or stained glass with light and makes it appear luminous. Because the pure highly translucent sattva element is maximized in buddhi, it is able to absorb and reflect the soul’s power of consciousness. Enveloped in the soul’s consciousness, the workings of the citta mind appear to be themselves conscious, but they are in reality unconscious, just as the film or stained glass appears illuminated in their own right but are in actuality dependent on light external to themselves for their illumination and visibility. The awareness of the pure soul permeates the citta, animating the churnings of thought, citta-vṛttis, but due to ignorance, this animated citta considers consciousness to be inherent within itself, rather than an entity outside and separate from itself. It is this ignorance that is the ultimate cause of bondage and saṁsāra.

According to some commentators (most notably, Vijñānabhikṣu), just as light bounces off an object back to its source, the consciousness of the soul is reflected off this animated intellect and back to the soul. From this perspective, the intellect also functions like a mirror, the soul becoming conscious of its reflection in the animated intellect, just as one becomes conscious of one’s appearance in a mirror. However, since the intellect is constantly being transformed into the images presented to it by the mind and senses, this reflection presented back to the puruṣa soul is constantly obscured and distorted by vṛttis, just as one’s reflection in a mirror is distorted if the mirror is dirty or warped. When this distorted reflection is considered to be inherent within the actual puruṣa, rather than the product of the citta, an entity outside of and separate from it, the soul becomes misidentified with the world of change, through the changing states of mind, the vṛttis noted in this sūtra, just as one may look at one’s reflection in a dirty mirror and mistakenly think that it is oneself who is dirty. Consider a young child looking at herself in one of those “crazy mirrors” that make one appear grotesquely fat or thin (or, in the premodern analogy used by Śaṅkara, a face reflected in a long sword, making the face appear elongated, III.35). If the child does not realize that her deformed appearance in the mirror is merely a distorted reflection and not her actual self, she may experience fear or panic.

The soul, in short, is neither the physical body in which it is encased nor the mind that exhibits psychic functions. It is pure autonomous consciousness. The Sāṅkhya Sūtras refer to a quaint traditional story to illustrate this point:

A certain king’s son, due to being born under an afflicted astrological constellation, is expelled from the city and raised by a member of the forest dwelling Śabara tribe. He thus thinks: “I am a Śabara!” Upon finding him to be still alive, one of the king’s ministers informs him: “You are not a Śabara, you are a king’s son.” Thereupon, the son gives up the idea that he is a Śabara, accepts his true royal identity, and thinks: “I am a king’s son.” In the same way, the soul, by means of the instruction of a kind soul [the guru], is informed: “You are manifest from the first Soul [Brahman], who is made of pure consciousness.” Thereupon, giving up the idea of being made of prakṛti, the soul thinks: “Because I am the son of Brahman,40 I am Brahman, not a product of saṁsāra.” (IV.1)

Thus, the soul appears to undergo the experiences of the body and mind—birth, death, disease, old age, happiness, distress, peacefulness, anxiety, etc., but these are mere transformations of the body and mind. In other words, they are the permutations of gross and subtle matter external to the soul that are pervaded by the soul’s awareness. The mind misidentifies the pure self with these permutations and considers the pure self to be subject to birth and death, happiness and distress, etc. This misidentification, or ignorance, is therefore the root of bondage to the world, as will be discussed in the beginning of Chapter II. As stated in this sūtra by Patañjali, yoga involves preventing the mind from being molded into these permutations, the vṛttis, the impressions and thoughts of the objects of the world.

An understanding of the process underpinning the workings of the mind—the citta-vṛttis noted here—requires the introduction of a further set of categories: the three guṇas, strands or qualities. They are sattva, lucidity; rajas, action; and tamas, inertia. Vyāsa and the commentators waste no time discussing these guṇas here and continue to do so continuously in their commentaries throughout the text. Since they are pivotal to an understanding of yoga meditation and practice, they require some attention.

The guṇas are inherent in prakṛti, matter, and are the catalysts in the evolution of the mind and all manifest reality from primordial prakṛti. Just as threads are inherent in the production of a rope, says Vijñānabhikṣu, so the guṇas underpin and permeate the material matrix of prakṛti. Prakṛti is constituted by the three guṇas. Therefore, since everything evolves from this material matrix, the guṇas are present in varying proportions in all manifest reality, just as the three primary colors are present in all other colors produced from them. As one can create an unlimited variety of hues by simply manipulating the relative proportions of red, yellow, and blue, so the unlimited forms of this world, as well as psychological dispositions of all beings, are the product of the interaction and intermixture of the guṇas. The Mahābhārata states that as one can light thousands of lamps from one lamp, so prakṛti can produce hundreds of thousands of transformations of the guṇas (XII, 301, 15–16). For our present purposes, the citta, as a product of matter, also consists of the three guṇas: sattva, rajas, and tamas.

Although all of prakṛti, including the cosmological and physical aspect of the universe, is also a product of the three guṇas, the Yoga tradition is interested in their psychic aspect. The guṇas are usually portrayed, and perhaps best understood in the context of Yoga, by their psychological manifestations (indeed Dasgupta translates them as “feelings”42). Sattva, the purest of the guṇas when manifested in the citta, is typically characterized, among a number of things, by lucidity, tranquillity, wisdom, discrimination, detachment, happiness, and peacefulness; rajas, by hankering, energetic endeavor, power, restlessness, and all forms of movement and creative activity; and tamas, the guṇa least favorable for yoga, by ignorance, delusion, disinterest, lethargy, sleep, and disinclination toward constructive activity. The Bhagavad Gītā (XIV, XVII, and XVIII) presents a wide range of symptoms connected with each of the guṇas. Kṛṣṇa makes the useful observation that the guṇas are in continual tension with each other, one guṇa becoming prominent in an individual for a while and suppressing the others, only to be dominated in turn by the emergence of one of the other guṇas (Bhagavad Gītā XIV.10).

One of the goals of yoga meditation, as discussed repeatedly in the traditional literature, is to maximize the presence of the guṇa of sattva in the mind and minimize those of rajas and tamas. According to Sāṅkhya metaphysics, all three guṇas are inherently present in all the material by-products of prakṛti including the citta, so rajas and tamas can never be eliminated, merely minimized or, at best, reduced to a latent and unmanifest potential. Clearly, sattva is the guṇa most conducive—indeed, indispensable—to the yogic enterprise, but while rajas and tamas are universally depicted as obstacles to yoga, a certain amount of each guṇa is indispensable to embodied existence. Without tamas, for example, there would be no sleep; without rajas, no digestion or even the energy to blink an eye. Nonetheless, yoga is overwhelmingly about cultivating or maximizing sattva. Another way of putting this is that sattva should control whatever degree of rajas and tamas are indispensable to healthy survival—sleeping for six or seven hours, for example, rather than ten, eating a modest amount of food, rather than gorging, etc.
The etymological meaning of sattva is the nature of being. This indicates material reality in its purest state, and is characterized by the desirable qualities of discrimination, lucidity, and illumination, since it is sattva that can reveal matter for what it is before rajas and tamas cause it to transform. On the other hand, rajas and tamas are the active influences in the production of the changing states of the mind and fluctuations of thought, the vṛttis mentioned in this sūtra, by disrupting the citta’s placid and lucid aspect of sattva. Vyāsa states that when rajas and tamas become activated, the mind is attracted to thoughts of the sense objects. But both direct the consciousness of the soul, the pure puruṣa self, outward, drawing it into the external world and thus into awareness of action and reaction, the cycle of birth and death, in short, saṁsāra. When all trace of tamas and rajas is stilled, however, the mind attains the highest potential of its nature, which is sattva, illumination, peacefulness, and discernment.

When the citta mind attains the state of sattva, the distinction between the ultimate conscious principle, the puruṣa soul, and even the purest and most subtle (but nonetheless unconscious) states of prakṛti, matter, become revealed. Buddhi, intelligence (the subtlest product of prakṛti), is the aspect of the mind that produces such discrimination when manifesting its highest potential of sattva and suppressing its inherent potential of rajas and tamas. When freed from the obscuration of these other two debilitating guṇas, which divert consciousness from its source, puruṣa, and into the external world of objects and internal world of thought, the pure sattva nature of the mind redirects consciousness inward toward this inner self. It is like a mirror that, freed from the coverings of dirt, can now reflect things clearly, say the commentators, and can ultimately reflect the true nature of the soul back to itself as it is without distortion. The ensuing state of contemplation is known as samprajñāta-samādhi, which, while not the ultimate level of samādhi, is the highest level of discriminative thought. In short, the goal of yoga is to eliminate, that is, still, the potential of rajas and tamas, and allow the potential sattva nature of the mind to manifest. This is another way of conceptualizing the citta-vṛtti-nirodha of this verse.

The means prescribed by Patañjali to still the states of mind or fluctuations of thought is meditative concentration, defined as keeping the mind fixed on any particular object of choice without distraction. By concentration, the distracting influences of rajas and tamas are suppressed, and the sattva aspect of the mind can manifest to its full potential. Since sattva is by nature discriminating, it recognizes the distinction between puruṣa and prakṛti, the soul and matter, when not distracted by the other two guṇas. But, since sattva is also by nature luminous and lucid, it is able to reflect the soul in an undistorted way, once the disruptive presences of rajas and tamas have been stilled, and thus the soul becomes aware of itself in the mirror of the mind, so to speak. Once the dust has been removed, a person can see his or her true face in the mirror. One of the goals of yoga is for the mind to develop such discrimination and to reflect the true image of the soul to itself.

The commentators point out, however, that the very faculty of discrimination—even its ability to distinguish between matter and spirit—is nonetheless a feature of the guṇa of sattva, and sattva itself is still an aspect of prakṛti matter. The point is that discrimination is not a function of the soul, the innermost conscious self. The soul, notes Vyāsa, the pure and eternal power of consciousness, never changes—a fundamental axiom of Indic thought in general; it does not transform when in contact with states of mind. Rather, consciousness passively pervades and illuminates objects, whether in the form of gross external sense objects or subtle internal thoughts including the higher stage of discrimination, just as light passively reveals gross and subtle objects in a dark room and yet is not affected by them. Hariharānanda points out that the consciousness of the soul, citi-śakti, is pure, infinite, immutable, detached, and illuminating. Therefore, as Vijñānabhikṣu outlined in the last sūtra, discriminative intelligence, even the ultimate pure sāttvic act of discrimination, which is recognition of the distinction between the soul and the subtlest aspect of matter, although indispensable in the yogī’s progress, still connects the soul to matter albeit in its subtlest aspect. It, too must eventually be transcended for full liberation to manifest. As Śaṅkara puts it, the mind sees the limitation in its own nature and deconstructs itself. When lead is burned with gold, says Bhoja Rāja, it not only burns away the impurities in gold, but burns itself away too; discrimination discerns that it itself is not the final aspect of being and pushes the citta to dissolve itself and transcend discerning thought altogether so as to reveal the ultimate consciousness beyond. There is thus a still higher goal in yoga beyond discrimination.

When the mind restrains even the ability to discriminate, continues Vyāsa, and exists in an inactive state where all thoughts remain only in potential but not active form, in other words, when all thoughts have been stilled (nirodha), one has reached a state of mind where nothing is cognized—all cognition, after all, is connected to some external reality (since cognition requires a subject, the cognizer, and an object of cognition distinct from or external to this subject). With no further distractions including discrimination and even the reflection of itself in the mirror of the sāttvic buddhi intelligence, consciousness can now abide in its own autonomous nature, the actual soul itself, puruṣa. This is the samādhi called asamprajñāta, the state of awareness in which nothing can be discerned except the pure self. In this stage, the mind, which is ultimately an interface between the puruṣa and the external world, becomes redundant and can be discarded by the yogī upon attaining full liberation.4 This is the ultimate goal of yoga and thus of human existence. This stage, however, must be preceded by samprajñāta-samādhi, uninterrupted meditation, that is, concentration on an external object (which, by definition is a product of matter) so that the states of mind and fluctuations of thought mentioned in this sūtra can first be fully stilled.

Bhoja Rāja raises a possible objection to the existence of puruṣa, the soul, which is most likely an implicit reference to Buddhism (although it could in principle apply to the Nyāya and Vaiśeṣika schools). If the soul, or pure consciousness, has no object of consciousness, then would it not cease to exist altogether, like fire ceases to exist when the wood upholding it is destroyed? In other words, if the vṛttis, fluctuations of thought, are eliminated, then what would consciousness be conscious of? Buddhists hold that the human

“persona consists of five sheaths, skandhas,47 one of which is consciousness itself, but none of these are eternal or autonomous as almost all Hindu philosophical thought considers the puruṣa, or conscious self, to be. There is thus a fundamental and intractable difference between Buddhism and Hindu and Jain philosophies on this point.

For Buddhists, when the objects of consciousness are removed, so is consciousness. There is thus no ultimate, eternal, essential entity such as a puruṣa, soul, that is separable from an object of consciousness; indeed, clinging to such notions of an autonomous self is the very cause of saṁsāra. Buddhist theologians used the analogy of the wood and fire mentioned by Bhoja Rāja to argue that consciousness is generated by an object. It is not an entity sui generis with an independent existence—one cannot have consciousness that is not conscious of some object, any more than one can have fire without a substratum such as wood. Even the orthodox Nyāya and Vaiśeṣika schools, which do accept the existence of an autonomous puruṣa, hold that when the puruṣa becomes liberated and uncoupled from the mind and the objects of the senses, it ceases to be conscious. They, too, hold that consciousness requires contact with the mind as an external object in order to manifest in the ātman; it does not manifest independently. To answer such objections, says Bhoja Rāja, Patañjali offers the next sūtra.

Yoga Is The Suppression Of The Modifications Of The Mind.

Yoga is to still the patterning of consciousness.

These practices cultivate an attitude conducive to being absorbed in Spirit and minimize the power of the primal causes of suffering.

Yoga is the inhibition of the modifications of the mind..

Taimini Commentary:

This is one of the most important and well-known Sutras of this treatise not because it deals with some important principle or technique of practical value but because it defines with the help of only four words the essential nature of Yoga. There are certain concepts in every science which are of a basic nature and which must be understood aright if the student is to get a satisfactory grasp of the subject as a whole. The ideas underlying ail the four words in this Sutra are of a fundamental nature and the student should try to grasp through study and reflection their real meaning. Of course, the significance of these words will become sufficiently clear only when the book has been studied thoroughly, and the various aspects of the subject considered in their relation to one another. It might be expected that words of such fundamental importance will be carefully defined and such definitions inserted wherever they are needed. But in the case of the present Sutra no such definitions have been given and we can therefore conclude that the author expected the student to acquire a clear idea with regard to the import of the words from his study of the whole book. But as it is necessary for the student not to start his study with wrong or confused ideas it will perhaps be worthwhile considering at this initial stage the import of the words and the Sutra in a general way.

Let us begin with the word Yoga. The word Yoga in Samskrta has a very large number of meanings. It is derived from the root Yuj which means ‘to join’ and the idea of joining runs through all the meanings. What are the two things which are sought to be joined by the practice of Yoga? According to the highest conceptions of Hindu philosophy of which the Science of Yoga is an integral part, the human soul or the Jivatma is a facet or partial expression of the Over-Soul or Paramatma, the Divine Reality which is the source or substratum of the manifested Universe. Although in essence the two are the same and are indivisible, still, the Jivatma has become subjectively separated from Paramatma and is destined, after going through an evolutionary cycle in the manifested Universe, to become united with Him again in consciousness. This state of unification of the two in consciousness as well as the mental process and discipline through which this union is attained are both called Yoga. This conception is formulated in a different way in the Samkhya philosophy but on close analysis the fundamental idea will be found to be essentially the same.

Then we come to the word Citta. This word is derived from Cit or Citi (IV-34) one of the three aspects of Paramatma called Sat-Cit-Ananda in Vedanta. It is this aspect which is at the basis of the form side of the Universe and through which it is created. The reflection of this aspect in the individual soul which is a microcosm is called Citta. Citta is thus that instrument or medium through which the Jivatma materializes his individual world, lives and evolves in the world until he has become perfected and united with the Paramatma. Broadly, therefore, Citta corresponds to ‘mind’ of modern psychology but it has a more comprehensive import and field for functioning. While Citta may be considered as a universal medium through which consciousness functions on all the planes of the manifested Universe, the ‘mind’ of modern psychology is confined to the expression of only thought, volition and feeling.

We should not, however, make the mistake of imagining Citta as a sort of material medium which is moulded into different forms when mental images of different kinds are produced. It is fundamentally of the nature of consciousness which is immaterial but affected by matter. In fact, it may be called a product of both, consciousness and matter, or Purusa and Prakrti, the presence of the both being necessary for its functioning. It is like an intangible screen which enables the Light of consciousness to be projected in the manifested world. But the real secret of its essential nature lies buried in the origin of the manifested Universe and can be known only on attaining Enlightenment. It is true that the theory of perception which is developed in Section IV gives some general indication with regard to the nature of Citta but it does not say what Citta essentially is.

The third word we have to consider in this Sutra is Vrtti. It is derived from the root Vrt which means ‘to exist’. So Vrtti is a way of existing. In considering the ways in which a thing exists we may consider its modifications, states, activities or its functions. All these connotations are present in the meaning of Vrtti but in the present context this word is best translated by the words ‘modifications’ or ‘functionings’. Sometimes the word is translated as ‘transformations’. This does not seem to be justified because in transformation the emphasis is on the change and not on the condition. The transformations of Citta may be stopped and it may still remain in one particular modification as happens in Sabija Samadhi. As the ultimate aim of Yoga is inhibition of all modifications in Nirbija Samadhi it will be seen that the word ‘transformation’ will not adequately express the meaning of the word Vrtti. Besides, the word ‘transformation’ has to be used for the three Parinamas dealt with in the first part of Section III. Since Citta has a functional existence and comes into being only when consciousness is affected by matter, the word ‘functionings’ perhaps expresses to the maximum degree the significance of Vrtti in the present context, but the word ‘modifications’ is also used generally and understood more easily and may therefore pass.

In trying to understand the nature of Citta-Vrttis we have to guard against a few misconceptions which are sometimes prevalent among those who have not studied the subject deeply. The first thing to note is that Citta-Vrtti is not a vibration. We have seen above that Citta is not material and therefore there can be no question of any vibration in it. Vibrations can take place only in a vehicle and these vibrations may produce a Citta-Vrtti. The two are different though related. The second point to be noted in this connection is that a Citta-Vrtti is not a mental image though it may be and is generally associated with mental images. The five-fold classification of Citta-Vrttis in I-5 definitely shows this. Mental images may be of innumerable kinds but the author has classified Citta-Vrttis under five heads only. This shows that Citta-Vrttis have a more fundamental and comprehensive character than the mere mental images with which they are associated. This is not the place to enter into a detailed discussion of the essential nature of Citta-Vrttis because the question involves the essential nature of Citta. But if the student studies carefully the six Sutras (I-6-11) dealing with the five kinds of Vrttis he will see that they are the fundamental states or types of modifications in which the mind can exist. The author has given five types for the modifications of the lower concrete mind with which the ordinary man is familiar. But the number and nature of these different types are bound to be different in the higher realms of Citta.

The last word to be considered is Nirodha. This word is derived from the word Niruddham which means ‘restrained’, ‘controlled’, ‘inhibited’. All these meanings are applicable in the different stages of Yoga. Restraint is involved in the initial stages, control in the more advanced stages and inhibition or complete suppression in the last stage. The subject of Nirodha has been dealt with in considering III-9 and the student should read carefully what is written in that connection.

If the student has understood the meaning of the four words in this Sutra he will see that it defines in a masterly manner the essential nature of Yoga. The effectiveness of the definition lies in the fact that it covers all stages of progress through which the Yogi passes and all stages of unfoldment of consciousness which are the result of this progress. It is equally applicable to the stage of Kriya-Yoga in which he learns the preliminary lessons, to the stages of Dharana and Dhyana in which he brings the mind under his complete control, to the stage of Sabija Samadhi in which he has to suppress the ‘seeds’ of Samprajnata-Samadhi and to the last stage of Nirbija Samadhi in which he inhibits all modifications of Citta and passes beyond the realm of Prakrti into the world of Reality. The full significance of the Sutra can be understood only when the subject of Yoga has been studied thoroughly in all its aspects and so it is useless to say anything further at this stage. 

Yoga is the cessation of movements in the consciousness.

Iyengar Commentary:

Yoga is defined as restraint of fluctuations in the consciousness. It is the art of studying the behaviour of consciousness, which has three functions: cognition, conation or volition, and motion. Yoga shows ways of understanding the functionings of the mind, and helps to quieten their movements, leading one towards the undisturbed state of silence which dwells in the very seat of consciousness. Yoga is thus the art and science of mental discipline through which the mind becomes cultured and matured.

This vital sutra contains the definition of yoga: the control or restraint of the movement of consciousness, leading to their complete cessation.

Citta is the vehicle which takes the mind (manas) towards the soul (atma). Yoga is the cessation of all vibration in the seat of consciousness. It is extremely difficult to convey the meaning of the word citta because it is the subtlest form of cosmic intelligence (mahat). Mahat is the great principle, the source of the material world of nature (prakrti), as opposed to the soul, which is an offshoot of nature. According to samkhya philosophy, creation is effected by the mingling of prakrti with Purusa, the cosmic Soul. This view of cosmology is also accepted by the yoga philosophy. The principles of Purusa and prakrti are the source of all action, volition and silence.

Words such as citta, buddhi and mahat are so often used interchangeably that the student can easily become confused. One way to structure one’s understanding is to remember that every phenomenon which has reached its full evolution or individuation has a subtle or cosmic counterpart. Thus, we translate buddhi as the individual discriminating intelligence, and consider mahat to be its cosmic counterpart. Similarly, the individuated consciousness, citta, is matched by its subtle form cit. For the purpose of Self-Realization, the highest awareness of consciousness and the most refined faculty of intelligence have to work so much in partnership that it is not always useful to split hairs by separating them. (See Introduction, part I – Cosmology of Nature.)

The thinking principle, or conscience (antahkarana) links the motivating principle of nature (mahat) to individual consciousness which can be thought of as a fluid enveloping ego (ahamkara), intelligence (buddhi) and mind (manas). This ‘fluid’ tends to become cloudy and opaque due to its contact with the external world via its three components. The sadhaka’s aim is to bring the consciousness to a state of purity and translucence. It is important to note that consciousness not only links evolved or manifest nature to non-evolved or subtle nature; it is also closest to the soul itself, which does not belong to nature, being merely immanent in it.
Buddhi possesses the decisive knowledge which is determined by perfect action and experience. Manas gathers and collects information through the five senses of perception, jñanendriyas, and the five organs of action, karmendriyas. Cosmic intelligence, ego, individual intelligence, mind, the five senses of perception and the five organs of action are the products of the five elements of nature – earth, water, fire, air and ether (prthvi, ap, tejas, vayu and akasa) – with their infra-atomic qualities of smell, taste, form or sight, touch and sound (gandha, rasa, rupa, sparsa and sabda).

In order to help man to understand himself, the sages analysed humans as being composed of five sheaths, or kosas:

Sheath:
Corresponding element
Anatomical (annamaya)
Physiological (pranamaya)
Mental (manomaya)
Intellectual (vijñanamaya)
Blissful (anandamaya)

Corresponding Element:
Earth
Water
Fire
Air
Either

The first three sheaths are within the field of the elements of nature. The intellectual sheath is said to be the layer of the individual soul (jivatman), and the blissful sheath the layer of the universal Soul (paramatman). In effect, all five sheaths have to be penetrated to reach emancipation. The innermost content of the sheaths, beyond even the blissful body, is purusa, the indivisible, non-manifest One, the ‘void which is full’. This is experienced in nirbija samadhi, whereas sabija samadhi is experienced at the level of the blissful body.

If ahamkara (ego) is considered to be one end of a thread, then antaratma (Universal Self) is the other end. Antahkarana (conscience) is the unifier of the two.

The practice of yoga integrates a person through the journey of intelligence and consciousness from the external to the internal. It unifies him from the intelligence of the skin to the intelligence of the self, so that his self merges with the cosmic Self. This is the merging of one half of one’s being (prakrti) with the other (purusa). Through yoga, the practitioner learns to observe and to think, and to intensify his effort until eternal joy is attained. This is possible only when all vibrations of the individual citta are arrested before they emerge.

Yoga, the restraint of fluctuating thought, leads to a sattvic state. But in order to restrain the fluctuations, force of will is necessary: hence a degree of rajas is involved. Restraint of the movements of thought brings about stillness, which leads to deep silence, with awareness. This is the sattvic nature of the citta.

Stillness is concentration (dharana) and silence is meditation (dhyana). Concentration needs a focus or a form, and this focus is ahamkara, one’s own small, individual self. When concentration flows into meditation, that self loses its identity and becomes one with the great Self. Like two sides of a coin, ahamkara and atma are the two opposite poles in man.

The sadhaka is influenced by the self on the one hand and by objects perceived on the other. When he is engrossed in the object, his mind fluctuates. This is vrtti. His aim should be to distinguish the self from the objects seen, so that it does not become enmeshed by them. Through yoga, he should try to free his consciousness from the temptations of such objects, and bring it closer to the seer. Restraining the fluctuations of the mind is a process which leads to an end: samadhi. Initially, yoga acts as the means of restraint. When the sadhaka has attained a total state of restraint, yogic discipline is accomplished and the end is reached: the consciousness remains pure. Thus, yoga is both the means and the end.
(See I.18; II.28.)

The restraint of the modifications of the mind-stuff is Yoga.

Satchidananda Commentary:

In this sūtra, Patañjali gives the goal of Yoga. For a keen student, this one sūtra would be enough because the rest of them only explain this one. If the restraint of the mental modifications is achieved, one has reached the goal of Yoga. The entire science of Yoga is based on this. Patañjali has given the definition of Yoga and at the same time the practice. “If you can control the rising of the mind into ripples, you will experience Yoga.”

Now we will discuss the meaning of each word of the sūtra. Normally, the word Yoga is translated as “union, ” but for a union there should be two things to unite. In this case, what is to unite with what? So here we take Yoga to mean the Yogic experience. The extraordinary experience gained by controlling the modifications of the mind is itself called Yoga.

Citta is the sum total of mind. To have a full picture of what Patañjali means by “mind, ” you should know that within the citta are different levels. The basic mind is called ahaṁkära, or the ego, the “I” feeling. This gives rise to the intellect or discriminative faculty which is called buddhi. Another stage is called manas, the desiring part of the mind, which gets attracted to outside things through the senses.

For example, say you are quietly sitting enjoying the solitude when a nice smell comes from the kitchen. The moment the manas records, “I’m getting a fine smell from somewhere, ” the buddhi discriminates, “What is that smell? I think it’s cheese. How nice. What kind? Swiss? Yes, it’s Swiss cheese.” Then, once the buddhi decides, “Yes, it’s a nice piece of Swiss cheese like you enjoyed in Switzerland last year, ” the ahaṁkära says, “Oh, is it so? Then I should have some now.” These three things happen one at a time, but so quickly that we seldom distinguish between them.

These modifications give rise to the effort to get the cheese. The want was created and, unless you fulfill it by peeping into the kitchen and eating the cheese, your mind won’t go back to its original peaceful condition. The want is created, then the effort to fulfill the want, and once you fulfill it, you are back to your original peaceful position. So, normally you are in the peaceful state. That is the natural condition of the mind. But these citta vṛttis, or the modifications of the mind-stuff, disturb that peace.

All the differences in the outside world are the outcome of your mental modifications. For example, imagine you have not seen your father since your birth and he returns when you are ten years old. He knocks at your door. Opening it, you see a strange face. You run to your mama saying, “Mama, there’s a stranger at the door.” Your mama comes and sees her long-lost husband. With all joy she receives him and introduces him as your father. You say, “Oh, my Daddy!” A few minutes before, he was a stranger; now he has become your daddy. Did he change into your daddy? No, he is the same person. You created the idea of “stranger, ” then changed it to “Daddy.” That’s all. The entire outside world is based on your thoughts and mental attitude.

The entire world is your own projection. Your values may change within a fraction of a second. Today you may not even want to see the one who was your sweet honey yesterday. If we remember that, we won’t put so much stress on outward things.

That is why Yoga does not bother much about changing the outside world. There is a Sanskrit saying, “Mana eva manuṣyanam karaṇam bandha mokṣayoḥ.” “As the mind, so the person; bondage or liberation are in your own mind.” If you feel bound, you are bound. If you feel liberated, you are liberated. Things outside neither bind nor liberate you; only your attitude toward them does that.

That is why whenever I speak to prison inmates I say, “You all feel you are imprisoned and anxiously wait to get outside these walls. But look at the guards. Are they not like you? They are also within the same walls. Even though they are let out at night, every morning you see them back here. They love to come; you would love to get out. The enclosure is the same. To them it is not a prison; to you it is. Why? Is there any change in the walls? No, you feel it is a prison; they feel that it is a place to work and earn. It is the mental attitude. If, instead of imprisonment, you think of this as a place for your reformation where an opportunity has been given you to change your attitude in life, to reform and purify yourself, you will love to be here until you feel purified. Even if they say, ‘Your time is over; you can go, ’ you may say, ‘I am still not purified. I want to be here for some more time.’” In fact, many such prisoners continued to lead a Yogic life even after they left prison, and they were even thankful for their prison life. That means they took it in the right way.

So, if you can have control over the thought forms and change them as you want, you are not bound by the outside world. There’s nothing wrong with the world. You can make it a heaven or a hell according to your approach. That is why the entire Yoga is based o n citta vṛtti nirodhaḥ. If you control your mind, you have controlled everything. Then there is nothing in this world to bind you.

Yoga is restraining the mind-stuff (Chitta) from taking various forms (Vrttis).

SV Commentary:

A good deal of explanation is necessary here. We have to understand what Chitta is, and what are these Vrttis. I have this eye. Eyes do not see. Take away the brain centre which is in the head, the eyes will still be there, the retinæ complete, and also the picture, and yet the eyes will not see. So the eyes are only a secondary instrument, not the organ of vision. The organ of vision is in the nerve centre of the brain. The two eyes will not be sufficient alone. Sometimes a man is asleep with his eyes open. The light is there and the picture is there, but a third thing is necessary; mind must be joined to the organ. The eye is the external instrument, we need also the brain centre and the agency of the mind. Carriages roll down a street and you do not hear them. Why? Because your mind has not attached itself to the organ of hearing. First there is the instrument, then there is the organ, and third, the mind attachment to these two. The mind takes the impression farther in, and presents it to the determinative faculty—Buddhi—which reacts. Along with this reaction flashes the idea of egoism. Then this mixture of action and reaction is presented to the Purusa, the real Soul, who perceives an object in this mixture. The organs (Indriyas), together with the mind (Manas), the determinative faculty (Buddhi) and egoism (Ahamkara), form the group called the Antahkarana (the internal instrument). They are but various processes in the mind-stuff, called Chitta. The waves of thought in the Chitta are called Vrtti (“the whirlpool” is the literal translation). What is thought? Thought is a force, as is gravitation or repulsion. It is absorbed from the infinite storehouse of force in nature; the instrument called Chitta takes hold of that force, and, when it passes out at the other end it is called thought. This force is supplied to us through food, and out of that food the body obtains the power of motion, etc. Others, the finer forces, it throws out in what we call thought. Naturally we see that the mind is not intelligent; yet it appears to be intelligent. Why? Because the intelligent soul is behind it. You are the only sentient being; mind is only the instrument through which you catch the external world. Take this book; as a book it does not exist outside, what exists outside is unknown and unknowable. It is the suggestion that gives a blow to the mind, and the mind gives out the reaction. If a stone is thrown into the water the water is thrown against it in the form of waves. The real universe is the occasion of the reaction of the mind. A book form, or an elephant form, or a man form, is not outside; all that we know is our mental reaction from the outer suggestion. Matter is the “permanent possibility of sensation,” said John Stuart Mill. It is only the suggestion that is outside. Take an oyster for example. You know how pearls are made. A grain of sand or something gets inside and begins to irritate it, and the oyster throws a sort of enameling around the sand, and this makes the pearl. This whole universe is our own enamel, so to say, and the real universe is the grain of sand. The ordinary man will never understand it, because, when he tries to, he throws out an enamel, and sees only his own enamel. Now we understand what is meant by these Vrttis. The real man is behind the mind, and the mind is the instrument in his hands, and it is his intelligence that is percolating through it. It is only when you stand behind it that it becomes intelligent. When man gives it up it falls to pieces, and is nothing. So you understand what is meant by Chitta. It is the mind-stuff, and Vrttis are the waves and ripples rising in it when external causes impinge on it. These Vrttis are our whole universe. 

The bottom of the lake we cannot see, because its surface is covered with ripples. It is only possible when the rippled have subsided, and the water is calm, for us to catch a glimpse of the bottom. If the water is muddy, the bottom will not be seen; if the water is agitated all the time, the bottom will not be seen. If the water is clear, and there are no waves, we shall see the bottom. That bottom of the lake is our own true Self; the lake is the Chitta, and the waves are the Vrttis. Again, this mind is in three states; one is darkness, which is called Tamas, just as in brutes and idiots; it only acts to injure others. No other idea comes into that state of mind. Then there is the active state of mind, Rajas, whose chief motives are power and enjoyment. “I will be powerful and rule others.” Then, at last, when the waves cease, and the water of the lake becomes clear, there is the state called Sattva, serenity, calmness. It is not inactive, but rather intensely active. It is the greatest manifestation of power to be calm. It is easy to be active. Let the reins go, and the horses will drag you down. Anyone can do that, but he who can stop the plunging horses is the strong man. Which requires the greater strength, letting go, or restraining? The calm man is not the man who is dull. You must not mistake Sattva for dullness, or laziness. The calm man is the one who has restraint of these waves. Activity is the manifestation of the lower strength, calmness of the superior strength.

This Chitta is always trying to get back to its natural pure state, but the organs draw it out. To restrain it, and to check this outward tendency, and to start it on the return journey to that essence of intelligence is the first step in Yoga, because only in this way can the Chitta get into its proper course.

Although this Chitta is in every animal, from the lowest to the highest, it is only in the human form that we find intellect, and until the mind-stuff can take the form of intellect it is not possible for it to return through all these steps, and liberate the soul. Immediate salvation is impossible for the cow and the dog, although they have mind, because their Chitta cannot as yet take that form which we call intellect. 

Chitta manifests itself in all these different forms – scattering, darkening, weakening, and concentrating. These are the four states in which the mind-stuff manifests itself. First a scattered form, is activity. Its tendency is to manifest in the form of pleasure or of pain. Then the dull form is darkness, the only tendency of which is to injure others. The commentator says the first form is natural to the Devas, the angels, and the second is the demoniacal form. The Ekagra, the concentrated form of the Chitta, is what brings us to Samadhi.

The following aphorism was composed with the object of formulating its definition:  Yoga is the restraint of mental modifications.’

Because the word, ‘all’ is not put in before (mental modifications) the Cognitive also is termed Yoga.

The mind is possessed of the three qualities, showing as it does the nature of illumination, activity and inertia. Mental Essence manifesting as illumination loves power and objects of sense, when mixed np with disturbing energy (rajas) and inertia (tamas). The same pierced through by inertia (tamas) approaches vice, ignorance, and absence of desirelessness and supineness. The same shining all round with the veil of forgetfulness removed, but affected by a touch of disturbing energy, approaches virtue, knowledge, desirelessness, and masterfulness. The same becomes itself when the least impurity of disturbing energy (rajas) is removed. It then shows forth only the distinction of nature between the Essence of objective being and the conscious principle (purusa), and approaches the state of trance called the Cloud of Virtue (dharma-megha). This the thinkers call the Highest intellection. (Param prasamkhyanam).

The power of consciousness changes not. It goes not from object to object. The objects are shown to it. It is pure and infinite. This phenomenon (of the knowledge of the distinct nature of the two) is, however, of the nature of the Objective Essence, and is the opposite thereof. On this account the mind freed from attachment to that too restrains even this form of manifestation. In that state it is possessed of residual potencies alone. That is the seedless trance. It is called the ultra-cognitive because nothing is cognized in that state.

This is the two-fold Yoga, the restraint of mental modifications.

~ Rāma Prasāda translation.