Beyond Illusion: What "Yoga" Truly Is

The Fall of our First Parents, Adam and Eve, and their exile from Paradise gave rise to the greatest drama in human history—the fundamental drama, one might say. The transformation that occurred through the metamorphosis undergone by human nature, which from being immortal, agile, and free from disease and suffering became mortal, burdensome, and subject to the vicissitudes of this life, originated in the radical alteration of the form of knowledge that humanity had received as a gift from the Creator: the gift of infused knowledge. This gift consisted in an intuitive, immediate, and contemplative mode of knowing, enabling our first parents to know and understand creatures and creation from God’s own perspective. Such knowledge was possible because the Adamic mind was united with the mind of God. In practical terms, it was God Himself who, through the light of His eternal Wisdom, revealed the mysteries of creation to our first parents.

The eating of the forbidden fruit from the tree of the “knowledge of good and evil” (I emphasize: of knowledge) had as its immediate consequence the withdrawal of grace and the transformation of that marvelous mode of knowing (which, nevertheless, was not yet the beatific vision—a state that our first parents were to attain through perseverance in the act of primordial contemplation under the command of a will sustained by divine grace) into the knowledge of an intellect darkened and profoundly influenced by the chaotic impulses of concupiscence. All this happened in a blink of an eye. The transformation may be described as an awakening from the Edenic dream and finding oneself in the fallen world in which we, their descendants, now also live.

Throughout all cultures of the world there has always existed a minority of individuals—the wise men (σοφοί)—who understood, although incompletely, that the present human condition lies under the burden of a terrible curse that gives rise to disease, decrepitude, degeneration, death—in a word, suffering. This is why all these sages sought a way of escaping the influence of such a condition. Some believed they could solve the problem on their own, while others maintained that only God could bring about the effects necessary for the restoration of humanity’s immortal condition. For us Christians, this latter solution is the only possible one; otherwise, the Incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ would be devoid of meaning.

Among the cultures of antiquity, Indian civilization contains a remarkable number of thinkers and schools that, although they did not benefit from the light of divine revelation as did the chosen people of Israel, nevertheless sought to discover the means by which humanity might be restored to its prelapsarian condition. With remarkable precision, they reflected upon the profound condition of man and upon the “technical” means—the art of meditation practiced within a life of asceticism and contemplation—that might lead to the conquest of suffering.

The ascetic and meditative disciplines collectively known as “Yoga” refer, without exception, to the body of practices intended to bring about the “transmutation” of the human condition from its present state, subject to suffering, to a higher condition resembling the prelapsarian one. Naturally, we do not encounter in any of these schools the language of Christian theology or biblical references. Nevertheless, they describe, as already noted, the present human condition and the “techniques” through which it may be confronted and, perhaps, transformed.

The origins of Yoga and the spread of its practices are remarkable. Attested already in the earliest Upanishads and mentioned in one of India’s most celebrated wisdom texts, the Rig Veda (Sanskrit: ऋग्वेद - c.1500-1000 BCE), Yoga experienced a significant revival under the influence of Buddhism. The Western world, thirsting for the highest form of meditation—active contemplation—from which the secularization of Christianity had violently deprived it, enthusiastically embraced these practices, which appeared to offer a spiritual path toward a new understanding of humanity and of life itself. Promoted by various charlatans, sharply criticized by historians of religion such as Mircea Eliade, who pointed out that what they usually taught bore little resemblance to authentic Indian traditions, Yoga eventually came to be perceived as a kind of therapeutic and medicinal gymnastics capable of contributing to the “well-being” of modern individuals alienated by the absence of any religious reference point.

You have probably already anticipated one of the principal distortions of what is today considered “Yoga” in the modern Western world: the almost complete exclusion of the rigorous asceticism practiced by its traditional masters. Genuine contemplative life, as understood by the ancient Indian masters, required a kind of “social death”—that is, voluntary withdrawal from the world of social conventions and rules, which constitute a tyrannical burden for the individual seeking—through asceticism and meditation—spiritual freedom.

Today, Yoga is usually practiced as a kind of light recreational sport, devoid of moral or spiritual commitments or consequences, much like a game of tennis or recreational sailing. Obviously, apart from the name, this bears absolutely no resemblance to what the ancient Indians called “Yoga.” Yet to understand this requires a solid knowledge of the original sources—and, ideally, of the Sanskrit language. Since such study is beyond the reach of most people, I have decided to provide a brief presentation of the doctrine of the human person that lies at the foundation of these practices.

Before doing so, however, I wish to emphasize that, for the baptized Christian, the restoration of the human person and of his latent capacities is accomplished through sanctifying grace alone. Although, as Saint Francis de Sales emphasized, contemplative life in the strict sense is accessible only within the monastery, the path of salvation necessarily entails humanity’s elevation from its “fallen” condition to that of a true “son of God,” to whom the supreme Creator Himself may reveal—as King David declares, for example, in Psalm 51—the mysteries of creation. With this in mind, let us now examine, briefly, what Yoga truly is.

The most precise definition of the metaphysics of Yoga is offered by the master of this school, Patañjali (Sanskrit: पतञ्जलि):

Yoga is the restriction of the fluctuations of mind-stuff.

(Yoga-sūtra I.2: Yogaś citta-vṛtti-nirodhaḥ)

To understand such a definition, it is necessary to present briefly the doctrinal framework within which it acquires its meaning.

The Yoga-darśana (”the way of Yoga”) postulates the existence of two eternal principles: Purusha (the Self, Spirit) and Prakriti (Nature). Human suffering, one of the central concerns of Hindu thought, begins with the act of so-called “metaphysical ignorance” (avidyā), an ignorance that consists in “regarding what is non-eternal, impure, painful, and non-Self as eternal, pure, pleasant, and the Self” (Yoga-sūtra II.5: anityāśuci-duḥkhānātmasu nitya-śuci-sukhātma-khyātir avidyā).

From this obscure “zero moment,” a mysterious relationship comes into being between Purusha and Prakriti. The cause and origin of this relationship are problems that the metaphysical systems of Sāṃkhya and Yoga regard as insoluble at the present stage of human knowledge. Nevertheless, this relationship can be described through the symbolic language characteristic of the Indian tradition. As Mircea Eliade explains, quoting Patañjali in order to illustrate the act of metaphysical ignorance:

...just as a flower is reflected in a crystal, so the intellect (buddhi) reflects Purusha.

Ignorance consists in attributing to the crystal the properties of the flower. This is the “illusory relationship” (Skt. upādhi), brought about by a “sympathetic correspondence” (Skt. yogyatā) between the Knower (Skt. draṣṭṛ) and the mind (Skt. citta), the latter being the instrumental aspect of Nature. Liberation takes place when the “modifications of the mind” (Skt. citta-vṛtti) are brought to a halt (Skt. nirodhaḥ), thereby making possible the realization of the Self (Skt. Puruṣa) and the dissolution of the illusory bond between it and Nature (Skt. Prakṛti).

To use another concrete image, the Self is like a man submerged beneath the water—that is, beneath (or in) “Nature.” Such a condition is not the proper one; it generates a pseudo-knowledge comparable to the blurred, indistinct shapes we perceive underwater when we keep our eyes wide open.

Drawing upon the traditional exegesis of the Yoga-sūtra, the commentators on Patañjali’s text explain that the mind (citta) is

a medium that undergoes transformation through the activity of its various functions (manas, ahaṃkāra, buddhi) and structures (vṛtti). … Citta does not itself know; knowledge always belongs to the Knower (draṣṭṛ).

“The Knower” is one of the names given to Puruṣa, indicating a particular active aspect of Spirit. In describing this mode of spiritual activity, Mircea Eliade discusses the “mental modifications” (citta-vṛtti) analyzed by the Yoga-darśana. He writes:

The second verse of Patañjali’s manual defines the goal and meaning of Yoga as follows: Yoga cittavṛtti nirodhaḥ. Nirodha does not mean destruction or disappearance, but rather ‘blocking,’ ‘restraining,’ or ‘fixing.’ Thus Patañjali’s definition may be translated: Yoga is the activity through which the mental states are restrained (or fixed). Several clarifications are indispensable if we are fully to understand the meaning and implications of this passage. First of all, the expression ‘psychic states’ or ‘psychic experiences’ must not be confused with the ‘soul.’ The latter is an autonomous principle, uninvolved in any mental experience, and it is this that Yoga seeks to ‘realize’—that is, to possess consciously and completely, rather than merely to glimpse or presuppose.

This qualitative distinction between the “mental” and the “spiritual,” which the Yoga-sūtra continually emphasizes and examines, can be found—in one form or another—in nearly all Hindu philosophical systems (with the exception of Buddhism) and is a characteristic feature of post-Vedic literature. It is a fundamental point for understanding Indian doctrines.

The stabilization of the “mental states”—in other words, the suppression of ordinary psychic experience as manifested in our common cognitive acts, the cessation of the mental dynamism that holds us captive within an inferior mode of knowing—is likewise a pervasive theme in Indian thought. In concrete terms, the soul, Puruṣa in the Yoga-sūtra, is kept in a passive (or potential, non-actualized) condition, comparable to that of a person asleep (or even drunk). Although it is present in potency within every human being, awareness of its presence is obscured by ordinary, profane cognitive activity, which blocks authentic metaphysical knowledge.

Yoga, through the restraint, stabilization, and neutralization of ordinary mental experiences, affirms the possibility of attaining the autonomy and self-awareness of the soul. In essence, all Yoga postures—so widely popularized today—have no medicinal purpose in themselves. Their sole purpose is to facilitate meditation. Accordingly, practitioners seek those postures that provide the greatest stability and are most conducive to the practice of meditation. The attainment of this meditative state, which literally entails a transformation of our very capacity for knowledge, constitutes the goal of Yogic practice.

Whether, and to what extent, these practices are effective has been the subject of endless debate within the various Indian schools. Many of them display a realism accompanied by a healthy skepticism that seems to dispel the enthusiasm of those who imagine that Yoga is some kind of epistemological “toolset” by which human beings can mechanically attain states of consciousness superior to the ordinary one. This is probably part of the explanation for why many modern practitioners of Yoga have instead reduced it to a form of therapeutic gymnastics—which it most certainly is not.

Others, far more dangerously, have ventured into the world of Eastern occultism and even into that of idolatry and demonology. With prudence, yet also with firmness, we must always emphasize the danger that such “experiments” may pose both to the psychological well-being of those who pursue them and to their religious and moral condition.

We should not deny, however, that for some secular men and women of the modern world, deprived of the anchor of authentic Christian Tradition, Yoga has become the path that ultimately led them back home. I have personally known scholars of Indian philosophy who rediscovered Christianity after seriously confronting the question of humanity’s restoration through the paths proposed by the ancient Indian schools.

The ways of Divine Providence are indeed mysterious, are they not?