These are the five types of shifts in consciousness, which may or may not be troublesome.
The human mind can be both a source of entanglement and a starting point on the path to freedom. It all depends on how we use it. We know of examples of people who have ruined their lives through their mental attitude, but also of those who, by making proper use of the mind’s potential through a deep understanding of the mechanisms that govern it, have achieved great things, whether in the material, health or mystical spheres. If we are slaves to our minds and have no control over them, this can only lead to suffering. If we master the dynamics of how the mind works, then we are able to use it as a tool in our hands when the need arises.
Patanjali, drawing on the meditative concept of the mind, deepens our understanding of the mind in Sutra I.5, writing that „There are five types of mental movements, which may or may not be troublesome.“ (vrttayah pancatayyah klistaklistah).
The Yogabhāṣya (I.5) states: „Those mental phenomena are burdensome which arise from the defilements (kleśa) and lead to the accumulation of karmic deposits (karmaśaya). Those that are non-burdensome (aklista) pertain to discernment (khyati) and counteract domination (adhikara). gun. (…) Phenomena give rise to corresponding (of the same kind) sanskaras, and sanskaras, in turn, give rise to phenomena(…).“
In other words, phenomena of consciousness may or may not lead us to suffering.
In the next sutra (I.6), we learn more about the classification of mental phenomena in classical yoga. Patañjali lists the movements of the mind: „These are: true knowledge, false knowledge, daydreaming, deep sleep and memory.“ (pramanaviparyayavikalpanidrassmyrtayah).
„There are three kinds of true knowledge: direct knowledge (perception), rational knowledge and acquired knowledge.“ (pratyaksanumanagamah pramanani), as stated in Sutra I.7.
True knowledge (pramana) leads to right action. Patañjali describes three types of true knowledge. The highest form is direct knowledge, followed by knowledge gained through inference (based on evidence) and the acceptance of knowledge from a recognised source. In the Yogabhasya (I.48) we read: „Through acquired knowledge (agama), through inferential knowledge (anumana) and through delight in contemplative practice (dhyanabhyasa), in these three ways, by bringing forth the truth, one attains the knowledge of truth (prajna) and the highest yoga.“.
Direct cognition (pratyaksa) is achieved directly through intuitive consciousness (buddhi) by means of the practice of contemplation (including mindfulness in everyday life). The final stage – as Vyasa notes (Yogabhāṣya I.7) – is the puruṣa’s intuitive realisation of the mind, the realisation of what we are not.
Patanjali does not rule out indirect knowledge (anumana) either, i.e. through reasoning. Leon Cyboran adds that „It [indirect knowledge] may serve as a means to direct knowledge if it develops into a continuous stream of contemplation that focuses the consciousness, that is, purifies it of the veil (avrana) of tamas and the defilements (mala) of rajas. This is the typical path of Sankhya; one might say – the path of Sankhyayoga.“.
Patañjali also posits the possibility of experiencing true knowledge by acquiring knowledge (agamah) from another person or from a traditional text. This kind of true knowledge is intended to serve as a guide, inspiration or stimulus directing one onto the proper path of yoga, towards one’s own experiences. In this type of knowledge, trust in the teacher or in the traditional teachings conveyed through the scriptures plays a particular role. The subject of trust essentially calls for a separate discussion, so as not to treat it merely in passing in a single paragraph. However, let us mention that trust itself is an enormous transformative force, even if it is not always directed in the best way.
The antithesis of true knowledge is false knowledge, as defined in Sutra I.8. „“False knowledge is knowledge based on a perception of things that differs from reality’ (viparyayo mithyajnanam atadrupapratistham).
False perception (viparyaya) can be compared to a state of alcoholic intoxication or delirium, in which every perception is false and one’s view of the world is distorted, resulting in inappropriate actions. Vivekananda writes: „In this kind of disturbance of consciousness, one thing is mistaken for another, just as a piece of mother-of-pearl is mistaken for a piece of silver“. Distorted cognition is caused by an error, a misunderstanding or confusing one thing with another.
Vyasas asks in the Yogabhasya (I.8): „Why isn’t it true knowledge?“ – and he replies straight away – „Because true knowledge eliminates them. For the object of true knowledge is a real thing (artha) (bhuta).“
In Sutra I.9, we are given the definition of another mental state: „Daydreaming is the result of verbal cognition in relation to things that do not exist“ (śabdajnananupati vastuśunyo vikalpah).
How does daydreaming differ from a misperception? Well, in the case of a misperception, we perceive something that actually exists, but we mistake it for something else. When we daydream, on the other hand, we perceive something that does not exist.
Fantasy (vikalpa) is cognition based on verbal concepts. Often, a person creates a concept that is not real. But if the mental image associated with that concept is strong enough, the person will end up believing their own fantasy. One can spend one’s whole life searching for the „perfect partner” or the „perfect teacher”, thereby closing oneself off from genuine understanding and the experience of the „here and now“. By fantasising, we feed unrealistic expectations and generate prejudices, thereby closing ourselves off from genuine experience. Many religious and racial prejudices also have their roots in linguistic stereotypes. Furthermore, the mechanisms of the imagination can be used as a tool to influence us. The influence of specific verbal concepts on the imagination and the mind is widely utilised in persuasion, advertising and exerting influence over others. This is precisely why, in classical yoga, we strive to understand and master the imagination, because on the path of development we must let go of our attachment to words in order to reject and cut off the influence of others. Of course, once we have this awareness and are able to control our imagination, we can put it to good use. Not only to overcome difficulties, but as a daily practice.
Another state of consciousness described by Patañjali is deep sleep. „Sleep without dreams is a mental state brought about by a state of inactivity (inertia), as a state of emptiness or negation (of wakefulness and dreaming).“ (J.S. I.10. abhavapratyayalambana vrttir nidra). Many people are surprised that Patañjali classifies dreamless sleep as a fluctuation of consciousness, even though it is a state of emptiness. The most common explanation (particularly within the tradition of yoga practised by Vedantists) is the argument that one can recall this state; others focus on the fact that there is continuity of conscious processes within it. The fundamental explanation is that dreamless sleep does not produce the sanskara of restraint or a sense of mental tranquillity; rather, it is an expression of the sanskara of tamas (dullness, heaviness, darkness).
The final mental process described in the Yoga Sutras is memory. In Sutra I.11, Patañjali gives the following definition: „Memory is the recall of past experiences in their original form“ (anubhutavisayasampramosah smrtih).
Memory (smrti) is a function of empirical consciousness, enabling one to recall past experiences. It merely involves the reproduction of previous experiences without the addition of new impressions from other sources. Memory is therefore a collection of impressions arising from true cognition, false cognition, daydreaming and sleep. When used correctly, it allows us to recall experiences in their unaltered state. However, memory also influences everything we perceive. When we meet someone we haven’t seen for years, we immediately compare them to the image stored in our memory – whether they have changed, put on weight, lost weight, or look better or worse than before. In the practice of yoga, memory, in this sense, must be let go of. If it is not let go of, it will become a hindrance to cognition, as it will prevent us from experiencing anything anew; it will constantly relate it to something we already know. Letting go does not mean that we should stop remembering; we must simply let go of this interference with the freshness of perception. If the past is constantly present in our lives, it will not allow the present to emerge.
Written by Maciej Wielobób on 17 September 2016 ·