necessities which call for other necessities of a similar nature—namely, the position
of the emotions, thoughts, volitions, memories, and all such other functions of the
psychological organ.
There is no use in merely fixing in position a part or aspect of what we are and
allowing other aspects to take their own course. It would be something like
supporting a building on pillars, some of which are shaking, while some are fixed. If
we have eight pillars which support the roof of a building, and we fix only one pillar
in position and allow the others to shake, then the fixity of one pillar will not be of
much avail—though it is fixed—because that which is fixed also will collapse due to
the shaky position of the other pillars.
Thus, while it is true that concession has to be given to the weaknesses of human
nature and, therefore, practice has to be done gradually, step by step, from one
aspect to another aspect, we should not be completely oblivious to the necessity of
bringing into harmony the other aspects also. They have to be kept in mind. This
difficulty is, to a large extent, obviated by a sufficient advance in the practice of the
yamas and the niyamas. We cannot practise all the eight limbs at one stroke, though
it is true that they have to be borne in mind at all times. A considerable strength is
gained by an appreciable mastery over the canons which are enunciated in the stages
of the yamas and the niyamas. Even though it would be humanly impracticable to
set oneself earnestly to the practise of all the eight limbs suddenly, the first step—
namely, the asana—will put the other aspects in a mood of coming into harmony
with the ideal that is in the mind on account of the announcement that we have
already made through the yamas and the niyamas.
Though a law may not be actually implemented yet, it is announced first; a mood is
created, an atmosphere is prepared, and intimation is given as to what is going to
come by the proclamation of a particular enactment. Likewise, these yamas and
niyamas are a kind of enactment of what is going to happen, what is intended, and
what we should be prepared for. This atmosphere that is created will be a kind of
guard, or protection, against the unnecessary intrusions of those aspects which we
may not be able to consider with sufficient emphasis at the time that we are engaged
in one step, or one stage, of the practice—such as the asanas.
With these guarded cautions borne in mind, one should resort to a place of non-
disturbance, in every sense of the term—non-disturbance, both to the senses and to
the emotions, so that there is a tendency of the body to yield to the demand of a fixity
of a position. One should be seated, is the instruction: sthira sukham āsanam (II.46).
This requisition of yoga—that one should be seated—is the outcome of a practical
convenience that follows from this position. We have to be in some position, and that
position has to be chosen. It has to be fixed, once and for all.
In what position are we going to sit when we focus our attention on a given subject?
There is no other conducive, helpful or suitable position except a fixed, seated
position. We cannot be lying down; we cannot be standing; we cannot be walking—
what else are we going to do? The only alternative is to be seated because every other
position, other than the seated one, will lay too much emphasis either on the rajasic
aspect or the tamasic aspect. If we lie down, we may like to go to sleep; if we stand,
we may fall down; if we walk, there is rajas. So, there is no other way left than to