this motive is the liberation of the soul, though it is brought about by certain
processes which are called experiences, or bhoga, in the language of Patanjali.
Bhogāpavargārtham dṛśyam (II.18), says the sutra. The object, which is the drsya, is
intended for the purpose of bringing about experiences in the subject with the
intention of the liberation of the soul, ultimately.
Hence, anything that happens anywhere has a single purpose—whether it is a happy
event or an unhappy one, pleasurable or otherwise. Whatever be the circumstance
through which one passes in life, all this has a single aim, and that is the freedom of
the soul. By kicks and blows and permutations, combinations and transfers, and the
bringing about of transformations of various types, prakriti drags the whole cosmos
towards the consummation which is the Self-realisation of the Absolute, which is the
Spirit. For this purpose is this drama of prakriti. But the aim, which is so sublime
even in the littlest of experiences, is completely kept out of the sight of the mind of
the individual, and there is only a restricted vision provided so that the mind
cognises only a little object in front of it, and develops individualised relationships
which are contrary to the law of nature. This is the reason why ordinarily there is no
possibility of the mind concentrating on an object as an exclusive reality, because
there are other objects upon which this object hangs, and by which it is influenced.
The mutual interaction of the mind and the objects through the senses is a complex
process which has a connotation deeper than what appears on the surface outside
and merely what is brought to the notice of the mind inside. Experiences are not
intended to bring pleasure or pain. That is not the purpose of nature. That there is a
sort of experience which goes by the name of ‘pleasure’ or ‘pain’ is a side issue. It is
not the main objective of experience. Every experience is impersonal in nature. It has
no other intention than bringing about a cosmical awakening in the spirit within.
The pleasures and the pains that hang upon this experience, incidentally, are the
reactions of the mind in respect of this experience, from its own point of view. If the
mind is not to react in a particular manner to the experience provided in this
manner, there would be neither pleasure nor pain. It is a ‘feeling’ that is called
pleasure or pain; it is not an existent something by itself. And a feeling is nothing but
a reaction of the psychological organ. Why does it react in a particular manner? It
reacts because of its restricted vision in respect of the experience through which it
passes. If it has a vision of the motive or the purpose that is hidden behind the
experience, this reaction will not be there.
The yoga process, by means of samyama, attempts to raise the mind from the status
of an ordinary onlooker of the object and an individual subject, in order that it may
enter into the organic character of this experience which is between itself and the
object outside. Samyama is an organic completeness of experience. We become a
complete whole when we are practising yoga. We are not a partial being. We are
raised to a fullness of substance and being, which creates in us a sense of delight, far
transcending the pleasures of sense. The samyama process creates happiness. It is
not an ordinary emotional reaction. It is not happiness in the ordinary sense. There is
no term at all that is equivalent to the character of this experience. It is not delight; it
is not happiness; it is not pleasure; it is nothing of the kind. It is something more
than all this. What one feels when one is possessed of the soul is difficult to explain in
language; and it is the soul that is gripped and grasped in samyama.