The condition of the vritti, or the particular modification of the mind in respect of objects, is the condition of our life. Whatever the vrittis are, that we are. We are almost inseparable from the situations through which our mind passes because life is experience, and experience is associated so intimately with the stages and states of our mind that, we may say, mind is life and life is mind. If this is the fact, the mind is, again, inseparable from its constituents, and these constituents of the mind are known as the vrittis. Thus, by a gradual reduction to the minimum of the processes involved in our life as a whole, we conclude that the modifications of the mind are an explanation of everything.
Now, what are these modifications? As we studied earlier, they are certain transformations which the mind undergoes on account of stimuli which it receives from outside. The term ‘object’ that we use here in yoga psychology has a peculiar significance that is slightly different from the commonsense definition of it. In this psychology of yoga, the object before the mind or before the psyche is not necessarily something physical outside, but it is any kind of form that is presented to the mind. The object is better put as ‘form’ rather than any kind of concrete substance. The shape presented before the mental operation is its object. Thus, the object of the mind may be external or it can be purely internal. A concept also is an object. Just as when a physical object is perceived it casts the mind into the mould of that particular form of the object, in the same way, when a thought arises in the mind, the mind gets cast into the mould of even that concept.
So the vritti of the mind studied in yoga is that modification of the mind into which it is cast by either an external perception of a physical object or by purely the rise of a concept within itself. We will not go into the question of how concepts arise in the mind, as that is not our subject today. Suffice it to say that whenever an idea, concept or notion arises in the mind, that becomes an object for the mind. The mind temporarily is cast into the formation or the mould of that concept, and there is a vritti even in internal perception. Even if we close all our sensory avenues, shut our eyes and plug our ears and have no sensations outside, there can be an object for the mind, which is samsara or existence binding us to temporal life even if our senses are not operating.
Hence, the yoga psychology tells us that the study of the mind is a more difficult task than merely an analysis of sensory perception. Though it is true that the mind depends upon the senses for its knowledge, it does not always depend on sensory activity for undergoing any transformation into a vritti. It is not true that the vritti of the mind takes place only when there is sensory perception. Even a mere thought can cause a vritti. Concisely speaking, a vritti is any kind of modification of the mind into a particular form.
What is a form? The form which we call an object for the purpose of our study here is a location of consciousness. It is the tethering of our thoughts into a particular spot, the fixing of our attention on a particular notion in terms of space and time. The form is inseparable from the space-time concept. As a matter of fact, there is no form without space-time, and the very idea of the operation of a limiting adjunct such as space-time is the determining factor of any form. The mind cannot escape transforming itself into vrittis under any circumstance. Even if there be no physical objects, it will be in samsara; it will be in a process of vritti. Therefore, the study of yoga is a very deep-rooted subject which is not merely a theoretical formation of ideas concerning the outer structure of objects, but is primarily a study of the inner structure of the mind.
We may wonder why yoga is so concerned with the mind rather than with objects, while the world is such a vast reservoir of physical objects. The philosophy of yoga itself is the explanation, through which we have passed sometime back. It is not the objects of the world that are our concern. This is the great dictum of Yoga, Sankhya and Vedanta. We are not to concern ourselves with the things of the world so much as what happens inside us. Our experiences are our concern, not the objects outside. The objects are merely agents in creating a stimulus in our mind, but what sort of stimulus will be created within us depends upon our makeup. This means that the manner in which we react to the presence of an object outside is our concern, and this not entirely dependent on the nature of things. Things stimulate the mind, it is true, and create a vritti in the mind, but what sort of formation or vritti is created in the mind depends upon the stage of evolution of the mind. A particular word that is uttered, a single sentence that is spoken may create different senses and emotions in different people’s minds according to the way in which they understand them and the meaning that it conveys to them. The meaning that the objects convey to the mind is thus the factor that determines the character of the formation of the mind into the vritti.
What meaning does the world convey to our mind? We now very subtly come from objects to forms, from forms to space-time concepts, and from there to the meaning that the things have for our mind. What is the meaning that we read into things in general when we observe things? That meaning is our form, that is our object, and that is the cause of the vritti. So whatever be the meaning that we read into things in general, that would be our experience, that would be our psychological world, and that would be the subject of yoga. We are happy or unhappy, as the case may be, in accordance with the nature of the reactions the mind sets up in respect of the meaning it reads in the objects of the world. This is why everyone cannot be in the same state of mind, even though a single object may be presented before them. If one uniform object is placed before an audience of a hundred people, it will set up different types of reactions from different minds, so we cannot say that the object as such is wholly the cause of pleasure or pain. Much depends upon the reading of the mind in respect of that object based upon various factors, both of which constitute the mind itself.
Thus, the practice of meditation is a study of the relationship of the mind to objects. The study of yoga is not the study of objects, though it began with a study of the structure of things. From this study of the structure of objects in general in the world we came to the study of the mind, and we found that the study of the mind is inseparable from the character or the nature of the relationship that it has with objects.
We have thus a threefold nexus of the object, the mind, and its relationship with the object, which is called the granthi in yoga parlance. We have so many granthis or knots in our psychological setup, called Brahma-granthi, Vishnu-granthi, Rudra-granthi, etc. These granthis, or knots, are nothing but the ties into which the mind gets involved in respect of the formation, or vrittis, generated within it. Therefore, yoga psychology is a very complicated subject, and a study of it is a study of everything, for the matter of that, externally as well as internally.
Now we come to a very important phase in meditation. You have to recall what you have heard last time, because I am only continuing the subject from where we left earlier; otherwise, it will look entirely new to you. The particular phase of meditation which is so important to the student of yoga is expressed in a very pithy aphorism of yoga: kṣīṇavṛtteḥ abhijātasya iva maṇeḥ grahītṛ grahaṇa grāhyeṣu tatstha tadañjanatā samāpattiḥ (Y.S. 1.41). This is one sutra, or aphorism, which describes the condition of a very high state of meditation. It has a world of meaning in it though the aphorism is so short. All aphorisms are short, no doubt, but they convey a depth of meaning. What happens to the mind when it enters into a deep state of meditation is what is told to us in this sutra, in this aphorism.
The literal translation of this aphorism would be: When the mind becomes transparent due to the reduction of the vrittis or transformations of the mind in meditation, the nature of its object gets reflected through it and the character of the object gets so absorbed into the transparent structure of the mind that the mind and the object become inseparable, as the colour of an object brought near a pure crystal gets absorbed into the crystal itself and the colour and the crystal become indistinguishable. This would be the meaning of this aphorism.
In the earlier stages of meditation we have to struggle hard to fix our attention on a particular chosen object because the object always remains outside the mind. It will not enter into the mind in any manner whatsoever. Neither will the mind agree to get identified with the object, nor will the object be amenable to this attempt on the part of the meditator. The object and the mind always remain isolated and cut off in every respect, so that the initial stages of meditation consist of struggle and intense effort on the part of the meditator to identify the characters of mind and object.
But the state described here is a little different one, and much higher. The difference – or rather, to put it more plainly, the physical separation of the object from the mind in ordinary perception – is due to the fact that the mind has vrittis which are not wholly transparent but are disturbing and also inert, torpid, tamasic. The vrittis are of three kinds: sattvic, rajasic and tamasic. The modification of the mind is, therefore, of a threefold character: it can be transparent, which is called sattvic; it can be distracting, which is called rajasic; or it may be stagnant, which is called tamasic.
The vritti that is tamasic is incapable of any action. The mind stands stupid, as it were, knowing nothing, in the state of tamas. It gets confounded, bewildered, and knows not what to do. That condition is the tamas vritti of the mind, which is wholly unsuited for meditation because when the mind is confounded and stands in a state of ignorance, it cannot act. Tamasic vrittis are unsuited for meditation. Nor are the rajasic vrittis wholly conducive because they are distracting, pulling the mind in different directions. When we try to fix the mind in one direction, it is pulled in another direction. This is what we call the rajasic vritti. That particular form of vritti which is conducive to meditation is the sattvic one, which stands still and yet is not confounded or ignorant. It is this sattvic vritti, wherein the rajasic and the tamasic vrittis are reduced to the minimum, though not wholly abolished, does the object get reflected properly.
In muddy and shaky water, the sun is not properly reflected. If the water is wholly muddy there will be no reflection at all; this can be compared to the tamasic condition. If the water is shaking too much, we cannot see the sun properly; this is rajasic. But if the water is clear and still, we will see the reflection properly. This is sattvic.
Now in this sutra we are told that in an advanced state of concentration of mind the vrittis stand harmonised among themselves; they do not war with one another, and it is in the harmony of the vrittis that there is the possibility of the nature of the object getting reflected. We have to remember that the object, as far as the mind is concerned, that it is actually the form of the object cast into the mind as a picture rather than the existence of the physical object outside. The form of the object so gets absorbed into the vritti that the vritti is the form and the form is the vritti.
Here a very indescribable state of satisfaction arises in the mind. When the object stands in unison with the mind, we feel satisfaction inside. This is the satisfaction, this is the joy, this is the ananda or the bliss spoken of in meditation. We are unhappy when our desired object is outside us, when there is bereavement from the object, when the object refuses to come into our possession and be enjoyed by us, or when the object is wholly alien to our nature. Happiness is the union of the object with the subject. Where the two are separate, there is pain; where they are one, there is joy.
This state of union does not come quickly. There are various stages through which we have to pass, and we can mention at least three of them. The first stage is isolation, separation, distinction; the second stage is harmony and equilibrium, and the third stage is actual merger or unity. The state of isolation is what we experience ordinarily. Every object is outside us. We have nothing to do with them, and they cannot be said to be our property. We do not possess objects, because they are already outside us. Inasmuch as the objects are outside us, we can lose them at any time, and so we are in a state of insecurity and unhappiness. No one can be happy in the world as long as the objects are outside the mind, and there is no knowing as to what the objects will do to the person, or what will happen. Any catastrophe can break out at any moment. But when things stand in harmony or mutual agreement, there is what we call a good government of things. There is no insecurity or fear because everything is in unison, in harmony. We mutually cooperate with one another and work for a common cause. This is a good society, a good administration. Then we are secure and happy. But there is a higher stage where we need not simply cooperate as if we are different persons. We stand united as a single person. This is humanly impossible to conceive, but this is what yoga achieves.
So in this condition of the meditative process, the isolation of the object from the mind ceases, is put an end to, and the relationship of the mind to the object is enhanced in its intensity. There is a very intense consciousness of the object on account of not merely the proximity of the object to the mind but also the qualitative enhancement of the perception.
The nature of our knowledge of objects is ordinarily superficial. We do not have a thorough insight into anything in the world. The study of the subjects to which we are introduced in our educational institutions is a gathering up of information about things; it is not really a knowledge of things. That is why with all our knowledge and education we remain unhappy. An educated person need not necessarily be a happy person because happiness is quite different from education and the knowledge that we have of things. This is unfortunate. So we do not have a real knowledge. Though it is said that knowledge is happiness and knowledge is power, we see the reverse is the case. The knowledge that we have does not give us any power, nor are we happy about it. We are miserable with all our qualifications. The reason is that we do not have real knowledge. We have only information of the outer form of things rather than an insight into their real nature.
When the object stands outside our ken of perception, we have a life of struggle, hardship, sweating, and insecurity. When there is a proximity of the object to the perceiving subject, namely, the mind, there is a sense of security. “Oh, the thing that I want is coming near me and there is a chance of my getting it.” The harmony between the mind and the object is, therefore, the cause of the sense of security and the freedom from fear and unhappiness.
The nature of the object and the nature of the mind contradict each other in the initial stages. They do not agree at first, but later they become similar. They run parallelly like two persons walking together thinking the same thought. This can be given as a sort of example – not two persons walking together fighting with each other, but thinking the same thought and agreeing with each other in every respect. This is a parallel movement of thought and objects. But the third condition, as I said, is humanly inconceivable. It does not take place in ordinary life. It takes place only in supernormal perception. That is the achievement of yoga, the union of the object with the subject.
The sutra here cited does not necessarily speak of the union, but of such an intense absorption of oneself with the other that the two remain indistinguishable for practical purposes, like the crystal and the colour of the object brought near it. It is here that the mind has an insight into the nature of the object. This is what they call intuition or direct knowledge, immediate apprehension, and entering of the mind into the object rather than a study of the object by the mind. The mind does not study the object. It enters into the object and partakes of the nature of the object. This is the condition of the mind described in this sutra: kṣīṇavṛtteḥ abhijātasye iva maṇeḥ grahītṛ grahaṇa grāhyeṣu tatstha tadañjanatā samāpattiḥ.
Samapatti means the achievement which comes to one in yoga. There grahita, grahana, grahsya, the three terms used here indicating the perceiver, the perceived and the process of perception, come together so that we do not know who is the perceiver, which is the perceived, and where the perceptional process lies. It is like having three connected water tanks on a common level: the water moves from one tank to another because they are on the same level, and we cannot know to or from where the water is actually moving. There is no up and down here, no irreconcilability between the mind and the object. The character of the object has become the character of the mind, and vice versa, so we do not know which is the thinker, which is the thought-of object, and which is the process of thinking. This is the penultimate state of yogic achievement. The mind becomes absolutely calm, undisturbed by the thought of any object. The mind need not think of any object here because it has become the object, assumed the form of the object. That which we wanted has already come to us, so we need not worry about it anymore. We do not worry about an object which is already in our possession, but we are disturbed by that which is outside us and which we would like to have.
When the mind assumes this condition and reaches this state of the capacity to absorb the nature of the object into itself, it is endowed with a specific type of power. It is not that it can merely assume the form of any particular object; it can enter into the nature of any object so that it can become omniscient, knowing all things. Though there are millions of objects in the world, their essential structure is the same. Human nature is the same wherever we go. If we study one human being thoroughly, we have studied all human beings. If we know that one grain of rice in a vessel of boiling water is cooked, we know that every grain is cooked. We need not squeeze every grain to know that it is cooked. So the study of one object thoroughly, to the very root, is the study of the whole universe.
Therefore, the mastery that the mind acquires or achieves over one object, thoroughly, root and branch, is actually the mastery that it acquires of the whole world. By concentration on a single object, the mind can master the structure of every object in the world because all objects are constituted of the same pattern and, ultimately, of the same substance.
The variety we see in the world is a false variety; it is not true. It is like the many kinds of shirts that we have in the shops, all made of the same cotton fibre. Whatever be the colour or the shape or the size or the pattern of the cloth or the shirting, it is all cotton fibre ultimately. We know that very well. So the variety is only a superficial variety; it is not essential. Likewise, the very manifold objects of the world are only an outward variety that is presented before the senses. When we go deeper into their structure we will find they are uniform. So the mind has entered into the object, not merely an object – the object as such in its essential characterisation.
Yogic meditation is, thus, an entry into the nature of the object. Ultimately there is only one object before the mind. The whole universe is a single object. The universe is not a variety of different patterns before the mind, but a single object confronting the mind, arousing in itself various kinds of vrittis.
Now, the variety of vrittis that arise in the mind is due to the variety of forms that the mind perceives, which is another aspect of the matter. We are unable to recognise the common background of the various objects of the world. We are disturbed by different persons and things because of the difference that we see through the senses and which the mind accepts. If we are to recognise the common basis of these various forms, we would not be disturbed in a variegated fashion. Different things will not disturb us in different ways. The vrittis are manifold in the beginning because of the inability of the mind to see the background of the various forms. It sees variety. ‘A’ is different from ‘B’, ‘B’ is different from ‘C’, and so on; therefore, if ‘A, B, C, D, E’ all are to come and disturb the mind, varieties of emotions and vrittis will arise in the mind. There will be a medley of confusion in thought.
So the man of the world is misery incarnate merely because of the fact he finds himself in a world of various different sources of distraction because he has not yet gone into the depth of things. In the higher form of meditation where this variety is boiled down to a harmony, as I mentioned, the mind is more secure and happy. But when it finds that the object before it is only one, the whole prakriti or the whole universe, it has one vritti before it. In deeper forms of meditation we have only one object, not because we have chosen one object out of many but because there is really only one object, so the question of choosing one from the many does not arise. Then there will be a single vritti in the mind. That single vritti is that of the single object.
This is a state which cannot ordinarily be reached by people. I cannot say that any one of us is in this condition of meditation. This is only an ideal that is placed before us which we have to reach, and which will be the solution of all our problems. We are still in a stage of conflict between the mind and the object. The character of the object is different from the character of the mind, and therefore, every day we have to struggle with our mind so that it may fix its attention on the object. This state of insight is very far from us, but that is the goal to which we are heading. Without reaching this state, our questions will not finally be answered and our goal cannot be said to have been achieved.
Now I am coming to a single object, not many objects, which is the world taken as a whole. The more we approach an object, the more we approximate our nature to that of the object; the greater is our proximity to the object, the greater is the energy that we receive from the object. The weakness of our personality is due to a conflict between mind and object – as psychologists would tell us, the conflict with reality. The conflict or the irreconcilability of the mind with the object is the cause of the daily struggle of life, and this struggle weakens our psychological system. We need not actually fight with hands and feet in order to have this struggle. We may be sitting quietly in our room and yet we may be struggling in our thoughts to reconcile ourselves to the atmosphere outside. It is the difficulty involved in this irreconcilability of ourselves with the world outside that is the cause of the trouble and the depletion of energy, the weakness of our system and our unhappiness in general.
The yoga psychology, as I mentioned, is far more general than the usual themes of our psychological systems. The thought of an object is a conflict, according to yoga. The conflict is not merely the friction that physically takes place between two persons and things, but it is a disturbance caused in the mind by the presence of an object in front. As the radar system can get disturbed by the proximity of an object coming near it though the object may not dash upon the radar, the mind gets disturbed by the presence of the object, by the consciousness of the object, even if the object is far away physically.
The conflict between the mind and the object, therefore, is a state of consciousness. The consciousness of an object is the opposite of the yoga consciousness. In yoga, there is no consciousness of an object, but consciousness as the object. The presence of the object, therefore, is the reason for the disturbance of the mind and the cause of conflict. The object should cease to be an alien or a foreign element to the consciousness. This is the final objective of yoga meditation. The moment we become aware of an object outside us, we have started the battle. The war starts in our mind, in our consciousness, as soon as we become aware of a world outside. From the moment we get up in the morning till we go to sleep at night, we are in a state of warfare with the world from the point of view of yoga psychology. We cannot be happy for a single moment of the day, however much we may struggle. As long as the army is there arrayed in front of us, we cannot be happy. Either the army has to vanish, or we have to make peace with it. If they are up in arms in front of us, how can we be happy?
The philosophy behind the psychology of yoga, which we have studied previously, will tell us how the unity of the object with the perceiving consciousness becomes the source of perfection, power and happiness. The universe is ultimately not bifurcated into the subject and the object. The world has no inside and outside. It has no within and without. It has no seer and seen. From the point of view of the universe taken as a whole, there is no such thing as a seer isolated from the seen. Which is the seer and which is the seen in the world? From the point of view of a particular unit of individuality, there can be the seer from its own point of view and the seen from the other’s point of view. But here we study reality, not mere individuality. Nature, the universe, prakriti, has no distinction of drasta and drishya, seer and seen. Thus, the difference that we create in our perception as the seer and the seen is false, and because of the false state of consciousness in which we are, we live an unnatural kind of life. Nature does not help us. The perfection that is in nature is outside us. Perfection is unity, harmony, whereas imperfection is conflict, isolation, separation.
We are talking in a different style and a new kind of language altogether when we speak of psychology of yoga. We are not speaking the ordinary tongue or the usual grammar of our language. These terms, these ideas, these concepts and this subject is entirely novel and has a new connotation altogether. The nature of the object, the nature of perception, and the nature of the subject may all be grammatically intelligible to us, but their connotation is much deeper than the dictionary meaning.
So in yoga meditation we are rising into a wider expanse of our consciousness. The location of an object to a pinpointed spot in space and time is the cause of the limitation of consciousness. We remain limited to a particular form of an object on account of our assumption that the object is only in one place, so we have no knowledge of other things. We have this attitude in respect of our own body also. Our consciousness is lodged in this body, and we are under the notion that it is inside the body and there is nothing outside. That is why we are so fond of this body, limiting our reality to the body alone while regarding everything else as auxiliary to the satisfactions of our body. But consciousness cannot be so limited. By nature, consciousness is unlimited, and to limit it to the body or to any particular object is to introduce a kind of unnaturalness to it. This is called vritti. The limitation of consciousness to a particular form, either of an object outside or of one’s own body, is to make the mind assume a form, or a vritti. When the vritti diminishes in content and number, the limitation of consciousness is also slowly lifted up, and vice versa. When we delimit consciousness by the study of the nature of the form that has caused the vritti in a greater profundity, the limitation is slowly lifted up and consciousness assumes a gradually widening expanse; then, in the higher forms of meditation, there is only one object, which is the universe, and consciousness becomes all pervading.
The consciousness is limited to that extent, as is the nature of the object. When the object is expanded, lifted above the smaller limitations of isolated things, consciousness also gets equally expanded so that the wider is the object, the wider also is the consciousness, and in the widest form of the object, which is the universe or prakriti taken in its completeness, consciousness becomes sarvato mukha, all-formed, all-faced, omniscient. This is the state described in this sutra cited just now: kṣīṇavṛtteḥ abhijātasye iva maṇeḥ grahītṛ grahaṇa grāhyeṣu tatstha tadañjanatā samāpattiḥ.
Here, in this condition, all seeds of suffering get dried up. We will not anymore be suffering in this world. We will always be happy under every circumstance because all circumstances cease to be alien features to the mind. They become absorbed into the mind so that the mind knows how to handle them, whatever they be. This is mastery over things. The mind becomes happy because of the mastery it acquires over things in general. It becomes a master of everything, every situation, every object. It can handle anything with ease because here the object does not remain outside the mind. The seeds or samskaras of pain and suffering cease to be. There is thus an indescribable joy. It is not the joy of introversion or isolation of the mind like the artificial joy that we may feel inside our house when we are free from the teeth of a tiger in a jungle. If we are pursued by a tiger, we may run gasping into our house and feel happy because we are safe, but this is not the sort of happiness that yoga bestows upon us. The tiger is still in the jungle and if we go there, it will attack us again. But here the tiger has gone. It has become our own friend. So there is a difference between two kinds of happiness. Escape from the enemy is one kind of happiness, but the enemy becoming our own friend is a different kind of happiness. It is larger and more permanent.
So in yoga happiness, yoga delight, we are not escaping from an enemy. It is not introversion of the mind from reality, but the absorption of reality into the mind so that there is no further cause of unhappiness, no more attack from outside factors. Wonderful is this condition. This state of affairs, this condition of concentration of mind does not always come to us. It comes very rarely, we do not know how. Some say it is by the grace of God. Some say it is by the fructification of our previous karmas. Sometimes it looks like a miracle. Whatever it is, our thoughts are feeble when they confront this problem. A wonder takes place. All this is a wonder, finally. We do not know what it is and how it is. As the Upanishads and the Gita tell us: āścaryavat paśyati kaścid enam (BG 2.29). We have to look on it as a miracle. Our whole life is a miracle. It is not a mathematical equation or a logical deduction. In this condition we are in a state of blessedness on account of the unification of the objective nature with the subjective, and consciousness tending towards the universal.
The three stages of the mind are sarvarthata, ekagrata and ekatva. Sarvarthata is multi-faced activity of the mind in a state of distraction. Ekagrata is the state of mind where it stands in unison with the object, and ekatva is merger into the object. All that is the power of the cosmos enters the consciousness here. Purusha and prakriti become one. The world and consciousness do not anymore stand separate. The resources and the strengths that we have in nature become a part of consciousness, and consciousness becomes powerful, endowed with all the resources of nature. Bodily and psychologically we become stronger.
While yoga gives us this grand description of the goal, it also gives us a caution and a warning: Do not think that this is easy of attainment. A very humorous but pertinent analogy of Gaurapada, the great Grand-guru of Acharya Sankara, says, “Hard is this control of the mind like the emptying of the ocean with a blade of grass.” How can you empty the ocean with a blade of grass? How many years will it take? Some such difficulty is this difficulty in controlling the mind. Do not think that it is your mind and, therefore, you can do anything with it. Rather, you belong to it instead of its belonging to you. It will make you dance to its tune. Yoga states come and go, and therefore, you have to practise meditation every day. You should not miss even one day. If a single day is missed, the thread of concentration breaks, and to bring it again to that state is very difficult.
The sutra of the yoga system also gives us another advice in this connection, that not only do we have to practise yoga incessantly for a long period, but also with great love, ardour, affection and longing for it. We must long for yoga as we love our own child. As a mother loves her child or the child loves its mother, we have to love yoga. It should be impossible for us to live without it. That longing is the precondition of success in yoga. If we weep for it and cry for it and cannot live without it, it will come because mumukshutva, or spiritual longing, is regarded ultimately as the final condition of success in yoga. While we may have all qualifications, such as the intellectual, the ethical and even the moral to some extent, if this yearning for it is not there, our heart is tending in some other direction, then success will not come.
Thus, we are given a practical suggestion and a hint from all aspects of the matter as to how we can deal with our environment, which is our object in yoga, how the conflict with it can cease and become a cooperation or a harmony, and how this harmony can deepen itself further and become a unification, a veritable insight into the nature of things. This is what is usually called the state of samadhi, which means equilibrium of consciousness. When the nature of the object and that of consciousness stand in a state of equilibrium, it is samadhi. When they are opposed to each other, it is perception. That is the difference. They must have a state of harmony with each other and become one with each other. This is the state of cosmic experience where we do not live anymore as an individual or a human being. We are no more a person, and we will want nothing. The question of want does not arise. The word itself becomes meaningless there. This is the state of being, satta, of consciousness in a state of deep meditation of yoga.
[With deep gratitude to Swamiji]