Chapter 83
CHOOSING AN OBJECT FOR CONCENTRATION
Deśa bandhaḥ cittasya dhāraṇā (III.1). Tatra pratyaya ekatānatā dhyānam (III.2). These
two sutras at the commencement of the Vibhuti Pada of the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali
define the processes of concentration and meditation. The fixing of the attention of
the mind on a particular objective is called concentration, and the continuous flow of
the mind uninterruptedly for a protracted period in respect of that objective is called
meditation. This fixing of the mind on the objective is itself a very difficult task, and
the very fact that so much preparation had to be done in the form of yamas,
niyamas, asana, pranayama, pratyahara, etc. for getting into this mood of
concentration should prove the nature of the difficulty. The mind will not agree to
concentration on anything exclusively because the structure of the mind is like a web
which has its warps and woofs and is not a compact substance like a piece of
diamond. It is a fabric constituted of various individual and isolated functions which
get together into a so-called compactness and create the appearance of there being
such a thing as a self-identical mind.
The mind is constituted, to some extent, in a way similar to the structure of the
physical body. That means to say, even as the body is not a compact indivisible whole
and is constituted of many, many minute parts, down to the most minute called cells
and organisms, and yet the body appears to be a single concrete substance, so is the
case with the mind. It is constituted of functions—vrittis, as they are called—and yet
it appears to be a single entity. This singleness of its existence is an appearance, not a
substantiality or reality, even as the single concrete presentation of the physical body
is only an appearance. It is not there really. The peculiar structure of the mind—
namely, its internal disparity of character—prevents it from focusing itself wholly on
any objective. What is it that prevents the concentration of the mind on any one thing
continuously? It is the mind itself. The nature of the mind is averse to the
requisitions of concentration. Concentration is the flow of a single vritti, one
continuous idea hammering itself upon an object that is presented before it. But the
mind is not made up of a single idea. The mind has hundreds and thousands of ideas
hidden within it, and it is made up of these ideas, like a cloth is made up of threads.
Because of this composite character of the mind, which is made up of fine elements
inside in the form of these vrittis, it becomes difficult for it to gather its forces into a
single focus.
The gathering of the forces of the mind into a single focus becomes difficult because
the internal elements, which are the vrittis of the mind, do not agree with each other.
The members of the family have independent views. If one member does not agree
with another member in the family, we can imagine the nature of the family and the
kind of life they live in the house. If at every step a member disagrees with the other,
and yet he belongs to the family, there would be a continuous restlessness felt
internally in the family. This is what is happening to the mind. It is a restlessness
continuously felt inside on account of the disharmonious relationship of the ideas, or
the vrittis in the mind, which hanker for different types of satisfaction in respect of
different objects which they want to grab on different occasions. That the mind is
ordinarily contemplating on a particular object of sense at any given moment of time
is not any indication that it will not like other objects.