being, so that we are trying to tread a path which is far removed from the common
ways of the man of the world. This is the reason that there is such an insistence on
isolation, sequestration, and guarding and protecting oneself from the onslaughts of
feelings which are usually connected with the ways of life that the world knows.
These stages, these limbs of yoga, are the ardent and fervent blossoming forth of
oneself into the higher stages of one’s own being, which calls for utter self-restraint at
every step. Yoga is nothing if it is not self-restraint. It is humanly impossible to
understand what this self-restraint actually means if one is not endowed with
qualities which are really superhuman, because self-restraint, or self-control—which
is the very base, the essence and the quintessence of yoga—is not withdrawal, as it is
usually understood, from anything that is existent. It is not cutting oneself off from
life in the world; nor does it mean indulgence in the life of the world. The restraint of
the self is an attitude of consciousness, an adjustment of oneself which is different
from physical activities or psychological withdrawals from realities, against which
our modern psychoanalysts are so opposed due to a misconstruing of the nature of
Reality and the purpose of yoga. There is, therefore, a necessity to reorientate the
very concept of one’s goal of life and, consequently, the methods that have to be
adopted for the fulfilment of this goal.
These preparations in the practice of yoga are the gradual changes that are
introduced into the outlook of life which one entertains, and the very first step,
known as the yamas, is indicative of our attitude to things in general. What do we
think about people? What do we feel about things? What is our opinion about the
world as a whole? This subtle feeling, reaction, attitude, opinion or conception that
we hold in respect of persons, things and objects outside us is symbolic of the stuff
that we are made of and the extent to which we are prepared for this higher practice,
because our opinions about things are the prejudices that we have in our minds. They
cannot be got rid of, inasmuch as we are born into these notions. We need not be
taught that the world is outside us, that we have friends and enemies, that there are
things to be liked or not liked, that there are good and bad things, that there is a
beautiful thing and an ugly thing. These things need not be taught to us. We know
very well, instinctively, that such things do exist in the world, but it is precisely these
things, these notions, these ideas that we have to shed because the presence of these
prejudged ideas in our minds becomes the obstacle that we have to face in the
future.
As a matter of fact, what are known as the impediments in yoga are nothing but the
concretisations of the prejudices that we have already in our minds, which we have
suppressed for various reasons in the earlier stages, because the ideas that we hold
are our own children—they are our own selves—and nothing can be dearer to us than
our notions, ideas, concepts, feelings and opinions. And, who can give up one’s own
opinion? One’s own opinion is the only opinion that can be in the world and,
therefore, it is so intimate to one’s being. How can we get rid of notions? Notions are
the very ways in which the mind works, and the mind is inseparable from our
phenomenal personality.
Hence, the practice of even the most initial of these stages is a Herculean task. It asks
for a complete turning of the tables round and bringing about a complete revolution
in the way of thinking, which may sometimes deal a deathblow at common practice
and the tradition of the world. Nothing can be more painful. Sometimes it is even