to manifest. These weaknesses are those which pertain to the senses and the ego. The
senses vehemently assert the reality of an external object. This is the peculiar
weakness of the senses, and whatever arguments we put forth before them, they are
of no avail. And the ego has a peculiar feature of affirming itself as an isolated
individual. It will oppose any attempt at communion, which is the thing that we want
to achieve in yoga, because communion is losing of personality, which is what is very
painful to the ego.
Thus, there are two oppositions to the progress in yoga—the one that comes from the
ego, and the other that comes from the senses. All the obstacles or impediments that
we may have to face in future are only these—the desires of the senses, and the
affirmations of the ego. For this purpose Patanjali has been warning us, again and
again, that a thorough grasp of the conditions for the practice are essential before the
practice is commenced.
The two terms, vairagya and abhyasa, sum up the requisites for yoga practice. Is
there a taste lingering in the senses and a subtle longing of the personality or the
ego? No one can openly admit that there are lingering desires of the senses; nor
would the ego permit such an analysis, because any such analysis is the death of the
ego and a frustration of the senses. So one cannot, for oneself, know where one
stands, inasmuch as one always stands only on the level of a predominant manifested
feature of one’s personality, and not the total features. One cannot know oneself
wholly, because the whole of the personality does not manifest in conscious life. That
is the difficulty.
Thus, we cannot be prepared for things now itself, inasmuch as we do not know what
it is that is there inside of us. But if we are persistent enough in our practice, these
weaknesses will show their heads gradually, like snakes coming out from the hole.
They will not come out if the practice is very mild. The practice has to be very
intense, continuous, and for hours together—daily practice, without remission of
effort. If this is not possible, the only other alternative is the knowledge that we have
to gain of ourselves through our Guru, as our Guru is likely to know more about us
than we know about ourselves because of his experience, and because of the insight
that he has into human nature. But without these preparations, neither can we do
anything for ourselves, nor will we accept the advice of others. If this is the situation,
then danger is there, ahead.
Patanjali simply mentions, in a very precise statement: sthānyupanimantraṇe
saṅgasmayākaraṇaṁ punaraniṣṭa prasaṅgāt (III.52). The sutra tells that we will be
invited as a guest by the realms of being when we advance in the stages of yoga.
There are various realms of existence which we have to pierce and pass through. And,
every realm is inhabited by certain denizens. Just as when we go to a new country,
the citizens there may welcome us as a friend “Come, dear friend, be seated,” and so
on—the citizens, or the inhabitants of the different realms, says the Yoga Shastra, will
welcome us, and we are likely to mistake this for an achievement of yoga—which it is
not. We are likely to get caught up in the atmosphere of that particular realm,
because that atmosphere is nothing but what the senses seek and what the ego would
like. They become very intense in their presentations, according to the intensity of
the practice. Therefore, the sutra tells us that we should not accept these invitations.
Otherwise, we will be once again in the same trouble from which we wanted to escape