The result that follows is a resting of the mind in itself, inasmuch as the
omnipresence of God prevents the mind from going to objects of sense. That is the
first stroke which the contemplation of universality deals to the cravings of sense.
The deep feeling for God, Who is everywhere, is an antidote to the restlessness of the
senses which ask for things outside. A daily hammering into the mind of the idea of
all-existence, omnipresence, will not only withdraw the senses from their objects,
energise them and bring joy to them, but will also turn the mind inward and make it
visualise the cause of its activities, the purpose of its movements, and its ultimate
intentions. Thus, the yoga sutra tells us that Isvara pranidhana, or surrender of
oneself to God, is an ultimate method—and, finally, it must be regarded as the best of
all methods of concentration, meditation and Self-absorption.
These practices are practically the be-all and end-all of the preliminaries of yoga.
Though they are usually called preliminaries, they are such essentials that without
them it would be impossible to imagine any success in yoga, because yoga is not
merely sitting in a posture, restraining the breath, and so on, as one may imagine in
one’s enthusiasm. Though it is true that meditation proper starts with the direct
practices commencing from asana, etc., these higher stages will be impossible of
approach, and success will be far from oneself, if there is a pull permanently exerted
on oneself from behind. Whatever be our ardour for a movement forward, that will
be prevented by the pull that is exerted by certain forces from behind us; and if this
pull is not stopped by adoption of proper means, there will be no movement.
Even Garuda, who is the fastest of birds, cannot move if he is shackled with iron
chains. What is the use of saying that he is a very fast bird? He cannot move, because
he has been tied to a peg with strong ropes or chains. Likewise, whatever be our
ardour, whatever be our longing or fervour, that would be set at naught by the calls of
the earth—the demands of the senses, the feelings of the mind, and the loves of the
emotions. These are terrific things, and the teacher of yoga has been cautious in
laying the basic foundations in the very beginning itself so that these impediments
may be obviated to a large extent. No one can be completely free from them, not even
the best of sages. One day or the other they will come in some form, but at least they
will be in a milder form—not in a violent, wind-like form.
The advice intended by these sutras propounding the yamas and the niyamas is that
no one, not even the best of students of yoga, can be free from the possibility of a
reversion. There is no such thing as the best of students—everyone is in some stage
which is other than the best. And so, there is always a chance of it being possible for
one to listen to the calls of the realms which one has attempted to transcend,
inasmuch as the senses, or the means of perception belonging to the earlier stages,
are still present.
It may look many a time that soaring high into the realms or empyreans of yoga in
the higher stages would be like a bird flying into the sky, higher and higher, not
knowing that its feet are tied with a thread to a peg at the bottom, on the surface of
the earth, though the thread may be miles long. Imagine a kite which has been tied
with a thread to a peg in the ground—a thread which is some five miles long, or ten
miles long. The kite can go up and never know that it has been tied like that because
it seems free. But, a stage will come when it will feel its limitations and know that it is
not possible for it to go further because it is already restrained by certain conditions,
which is the thread in this example.