OBSERVANCE
YS II.45 samādhisiddhirīśvarapraṇidhānāt
Through dedication to Īśvara, [there is] mastery of samādhi.
Overview of Niyama
The practice of yogic observance, or niyama, is the second limb of the aṣṭāṅgayoga series and a logical step forward that builds on the practice of yama. The practice of yama is oriented principally toward social relationships, with the goal of cultivating a mode of life that limits the destructive harming of oneself and others. Niyama, on the other hand, refers principally to the more subtle, and constructive, actions that one takes toward oneself in cultivating the practice of yoga and deepening one’s spiritual life. Georg Feuerstein, a contemporary scholar of yoga, has put it in this way: yama is what one does when others are looking, and niyama is what one does when others are not looking. Niyama can be thought of as the private counterpart to the public practice of yama. It should be kept in mind, though, that yama can refer to inner practices of ahiṃsā and the like, and niyama likewise has social implications and can be practiced in a communal setting. This basic distinction is nevertheless useful for getting an initial sense of the shift from the public and social sphere toward the private and personal sphere of practice that takes place in moving from yama to niyama. The idea of progressing from the concrete and expansive toward the more subtle and inward is representative of the progression of the limbs of yoga as a whole. Having established a foundation in a moral mode of living in the world, a practitioner of yoga then turns to cultivating a spiritual discipline that informs and inspires his or her performance of yoga. The factors of niyama include purity (śauca), contentment (saṃtoṣa), self-discipline (tapas), self-study (svādhyāya), and dedication to the lord (īśvarapraṇidhāna).
Śauca
The first element of niyama is purity, or śauca, which literally means something like “cleanliness.” “Purity” would be a less literal translation, but it captures the notion that this foundation of yogic practice implies both physical and spiritual cleanliness, the former in service of the latter. Indian religious traditions, especially Hinduism, have long associated cleanliness with spiritual purity in important ways. This continues to be a highly important part of the ritual life of contemporary Hindu Brahmins (from the term brāhmaṇa, often translated as “priest”), for whom daily ritual baths are of great significance. Bathing and personal cleanliness are of significance in the broader scope of Hinduism and are exemplified by public ablutions at religious sites of significance, such as on the steps leading into the Ganges river in Banaras. Bathing is viewed as a proper precursor to worshipping a deity in one’s home or in a temple, in a manner that might be compared with rituals of washing that Muslims and Roman Catholics perform before religious services.
There is a deeper paradigm here, perhaps universal in scope, which is the connection between the purification of the body as a preparation for encountering the spirit and performing religious activities in various traditions. This builds on the more mundane or pragmatic considerations of the connection between physical health and cleanliness (such as washing hands, etc.). Śauca is also applied to the diet, what one “takes in”—typically, the prescribed diet of the yogin or yoginī is of a healthy, light (sattva) nature, which is conducive to physical well-being and fruitful spiritual practice. The traditions of haṭhayoga include elaborate practices of bodily purification, such as the cleansing of the nostrils with a thread or stream of water. The idea of physical cleansing is complemented by ideas about the cleansing of the internal dimensions of thought and emotion, achieved through working to uproot negative states, such as anger, and cultivating positive ones. One contemporary formulation of the Buddhist path summarizes spiritual practice as involving three things: abstention from harm, doing good, and purifying the mind. These all can be viewed both as steps on the path and as the culmination of the practice of yoga. They help provide a foundation for contemplative practice and are viewed as an enlightened attitude to life in an embodied human form.
The practice of śauca can be observed as part of one’s larger lifestyle and as a matter of habit. It can also be an object of focus in preparation for practice. Removing clutter from one’s home and practice space can provide a tangible spaciousness and openness that is supportive of practice. Daily bathing would be another key example of how purity can be practiced in everyday life, with attention paid to caring for one’s own bodily cleanliness. This might be augmented by washing for more directed activities, such as bathing or showering before practicing yoga postures or meditation. One might also take time in the morning to set one’s mental intention for the day—cultivating attitudes of friendliness and kindness, trying to reduce feelings or thoughts of anger, and so forth by meditating on directing loving-kindness (maitrī) and compasssion (karuṇā) toward oneself and the people in one’s life. This might be complemented by focused attempts to mentally prepare for a session of yoga, to “clear the air” in the mind, so to speak, so that practice time can be utilized most fully. It makes sense that one should be mindful of and attentive to the negative attitudes and emotions that one brings to the practice of yoga, so as to lessen their disruptive power.
Saṃtoṣa
The next factor or element of niyama is contentment, or saṃtoṣa. The notion of contentment is striking in its countercultural force with regard to the dominant attitudes of our time, particularly the affliction of greed. What saṃtoṣa calls for, as a practice, is the cultivation of an attitude of contentment with regard to our current situation in life. In other words, it is a conscious cultivation of an attitude that accepts the conditions of the present moment, a striving for balance, or ecology, in one’s life. It presupposes the idea that we can recalibrate our inner attitudes so that we are content no matter what our circumstances are and live in a way that is sustainable and supportive of practice. Most of us have experienced the reality of obtaining some lifelong goal or object only to find that it does not offer the satisfaction that we thought it would. This is typically because our appetites have grown larger and more sophisticated, and what would have satisfied us at one point in life will not in another. This is not to say that saṃtoṣa is a blind acceptance of the way things are without the motivation to change or improve one’s circumstances. In fact, it might be argued that meaningful change begins with acceptance, and contentment for what one has now, even if one is striving for better things. In the practice of yoga āsana, for example, many of us have experienced injury due to overaggressive practice, rooted in our impatience and inability to be content with where we are in our practice. There is a type of fine-tuning involved in finding the place where one appreciates where one is at in one’s practice, while still pressing forward. The practice of saṃtoṣa, which might be likened to counting one’s blessings, is an effective tool in modulating one’s practice and one’s life in such a way as to avoid fruitless overexertion and impatience. The simple life offered by the application of saṃtoṣa is one in which a life of fewer things means less stress and more steadiness, where wants and needs are no longer conflated with one another. It is contentment and not complacency, a source of stability in the face of the uncertainty of life. It provides a solid foundation for a sustainable spiritual practice.
Tapas
The practice of saṃtoṣa is followed in the niyama series by asceticism, or tapas. Tapas literally means something like “heat.” This is the heat or friction caused by the practice of asceticism (self-denial or self-mortification), a working through of the resistance of conditioning. Tapas is pushing the mind and body to their limits for the sake of spiritual discipline. Historically speaking, this was in some cases represented by exposing oneself for prolonged periods of time to the rays of the sun or the heat of a blazing fire. It has also been represented by the practice of intense fasting and other restraints of mind and body. Tapas might be considered a forerunner of yoga in that it is an ancient practice of self-discipline that utilizes the human mind and body for spiritual transformation. However, it makes sense to place tapas within the framework of aṣṭāṅgayoga, with tapas representing one aspect of self-discipline among the range of practices that are related systematically under the rubric of yoga. Tapas is viewed as having a purifying effect, which lends to the understanding of tapas as a preparatory practice with regard to posture and meditation. In the ancient Hindu literature, tapas was viewed as potent preparation for ritual and as a source of supernatural powers and abilities with a morally ambiguous character. Hindu literature contains numerous examples of individuals who become powerful through tapas and then wield their power in malevolent ways. This again points to the importance of the practice of yama as a foundation for practice.
The discipline of tapas can be compared fruitfully with contemporary calisthenic and athletic cultures in which vigorous workouts are prized for their physical and psychological benefits. Running, for example, might be thought of as both literally and figuratively creating heat—the intense heat of the body in exertion in the first case and the friction between the discomfort of the body and the mental will to move forward in the second. In some cases, running presses extreme physical boundaries, such as in marathons or ultramarathons. The aerobic and anaerobic intensity of the activity has measurable physiological effects, increasing blood flow, causing mood-altering chemicals to enter the bloodstream, and so forth. Vigorous systems of contemporary yoga, such as the aṣṭāṅga vinyāsa system and “flow yoga,” or generic vinyāsa traditions, might be viewed as incorporating tapas within āsana practice. The great popularity of hot styles of yoga, such as that of Bikram Choudhury, for example, may well be in part due to the intense catharsis or sense of emotional release provided by the intense heat and perspiration. Likewise, restrictive diets produce not only weight loss but often feelings of control or mastery over one’s mental and emotional life. Any of these practices can be taken to the extreme, whether in yogic or other contexts, and can lead to physical or mental harm. Much as is the case with Buddhism, the philosophical traditions of yoga we are discussing place emphasis on the instrumental nature of ascetic practices, and stop short of self-harm. The “middle way” philosophy of Buddhism, for example, hinges upon the idea that neither indulgence nor self-harm is spiritually profitable; one should avoid extremes, pursuing self-discipline that strengthens mind and body and provides suitable conditions for cultivating spiritual insight. However, just as the physical strength and emotional stability provided by athletic conditioning do not necessitate moral behavior on the part of an athlete, ascetic discipline or tapas does not make a person moral or spiritual, though it may facilitate moral or spiritual development. B.K.S. Iyengar, a key figure in the formulation of modern yoga, stated that practicing the postures of yoga without the observance of yama and niyama is nothing but calisthenics, suggesting that having a moral framework is what makes tapas a part of yoga.
Svādhyāya
The development of self-study, or svādhyāya, the fourth of the five niyama factors, can be said to have two principal meanings to the modern yoga practitioner, one conventional and one of a more technical nature. In contemporary yoga traditions, svādhyāya is primarily understood in terms of its literal meaning, “self-study,” and emphasis is placed upon the process of becoming spiritually reflective. This may be further expanded to mean something to the effect of self-education, or dedication to learning about oneself through the study of yoga. In relation to the idea of tapas being about pushing one’s limits, svādhyāya can be understood as coming to find and accept those limits. The more technical meaning of the term, which is coextensive with the conventional meaning in some ways, is something like “self-recitation.” This technical meaning comes from the ancient Hindu Vedic tradition, in which the central ritual act of spiritual life was the recitation of religious verses of sacred texts that had been committed to memory. Drawing from this context, svādhyāya can be defined as the recitation of the literature of yoga with an emphasis on the memorization and internalization of text. So, for example, one might obtain a text such as the Yogasūtra and read it aloud, trying to grasp its meaning. Likewise, one might take up the recitation of other spiritual or religious texts that are inspirational—perhaps Hindu texts such as the Bhagavadgītā or Buddhist texts such as the Dhammapada, or alternately the Bible, Qur’an, Torah, and so forth. Svādhyāya might also involve the performance of mantra (incantations or chants, such as OṂ) known as jāpa, prayers, and other formulaic expressions of faith and devotion. One point worth emphasizing here is that svādhyāya, in this sense, is a combination of performance and study in which both the spirit and the meaning of the text are brought to life.
Īśvarapraṇidhāna
The last of the niyama factors is īśvarapraṇidhāna, which means something like “dedication to the lord” or “dedication to the master.” In the Yogasūtra, Īśvara is described as being a person (puruṣa) who has never been caught up and bound by the world in the manner that ordinary people have. He is also described as being the possessor of omniscience and as having manifested in the world in order to teach the principles of yoga to humanity over the course of time. Many contemporary commentators refer to Īśvara simply as “God,” given his powers and capacities as described in the philosophical literature of yoga, such as omniscience. In the first section of the Yogasūtra, īśvarapraṇidhāna is discussed as being a potent manner of eliminating obstacles to the development of contemplation (samādhi). The primary practice of īśvarapraṇidhāna is recitation and contemplation of the mantra OṂ, known as praṇava, which is considered the representative sound of Īśvara. This forms a particular type of devotion (bhakti), an intense emotive focusing that is said to accelerate spiritual development. One way to conceive of the operation of Īśvara is in the manner of an intense religious commitment. Through transforming one’s practice into an act of devotion, emphasis on one’s own ego is diminished and the power of religious sentiment fuels enthusiasm for the practice. In the formula of tapas-svādhyāya-īśvarapraṇidhāna, Īśvara is accepting what is beyond one’s capacities once one’s limits have been tested and accepted. Another approach is to view Īśvara as an archetype or model of what the practitioner hopes to become. Īśvara in this respect represents the radical transcendence of worldly affliction and the ability to manifest, or participate, in the world in an enlightened manner, without getting caught up in it. Developing an intense focus on Īśvara in this respect is like developing an intense focus on the state toward which a practitioner of yoga aspires. For those who find the idea of believing in or developing devotion to a deity unacceptable, the cultivation of devotion and attentiveness to a spiritual ideal might be more acceptable. These two possibilities are not mutually exclusive, either, as the person who views Īśvara in literal terms may still value the manner in which he serves as a model for what a yogin or yoginī aims to become. The recitation of praṇava, or OṂ, is joined with contemplation of the nature of Īśvara as radically transcendent, free from the pain and misery of worldly affliction and manifesting in the world for the benefit of living beings. For some, it may be helpful to conceive of Īśvara in personal terms, in the form of an enlightened deity or sage, such as Śiva, Viṣṇu, Devī, Gaṇeśa, or a buddha or bodhisattva figure. Some practitioners of yoga might find it helpful to construct a small shrine with an image (mūrti) that can provide focus to the practice of this aspect of yoga.
Mastery of Niyama
As is the case with the five yama factors, it is said that mastery of the five niyama factors leads particular benefits and powers to arise. In the case of purity (śauca), a range of benefits are stated, including the development of a degree of detachment toward one’s own and others’ bodies, the arising of ease in the body and mind, one-pointedness of mind, control of the senses, and fitness for self-knowledge. The mastery of saṃtoṣa is said to yield unexcelled happiness, implying that the greatest happiness in life is to be found through cultivating contentment rather than through the process of accumulation. Tapas is said to result in the perfection of the body and senses through the destruction of impurities, leading to the attainment of “yoga powers.” These powers, according to the commentarial literature, include the development of heightened perceptual abilities and a malleability of one’s physical form. The mastery of the practice of svādhyāya is said to lead to union with one’s desired deity (iṣṭadevatā). One way to interpret this is that as one recites a text or mantra with intensity of purpose, the truth of that text becomes transparent—in the case of a mantra, one gains communion with the sacred reality or principle that it represents, such as a deity. Likewise, one might be said to gain communion with the thoughts or mind of the author of a philosophical text and thus gain deep insight into the author’s mind and the object of study. Lastly, through īśvarapraṇidhāna, it is said that the practitioner of yoga quickly perfects samādhi, or meditative contemplation. Devotion or dedication to Īśvara is thus thought of as a sort of shortcut that leads in rapid fashion to the achievement of deep meditative contemplation and ultimately to liberation.
As discussed previously, the elements of yama and niyama can be seen as precursors to the other limbs of yoga in that they provide a foundation and context for practice. It is clear, however, that they constitute in and of themselves important practices that are instrumental in the process of spiritual development up to the attainment of liberation. Having established the practice of yama and niyama, we can now take up the successive limbs of yoga, beginning with the practice of posture (āsana), the touchstone of many contemporary yoga traditions.