sattva-puruṣayor atyantāsaṅkīrṇayoḥ pratyayāviśeṣo bhogaḥ
parārthāt svārtha-saṁyamāt puruṣa-jñānam

sattva-puruṣayoḥ atyanta-asaṅkīrṇayoḥ pratyaya-aviśeṣaḥ bhogaḥ
para-arthāt sva-artha-saṁyamāt puruṣa-jñānam

“Experience does not distinguish between sattva and puruṣa, but the two are absolutely distinct.  Knowledge of puruṣa comes from meditation on own-purpose vs. other-purpose.”

In sūtra III.35, Patanjali declares we learn about our own citta (consciousness, mind, from cit, “to perceive”) by studying the heart. Today’s sūtra dives deeper into what that means.

Yoga practice teaches us about our minds, it teaches sensitivity and encourages us to embody fully, to connect within. The practice reveals the vṛttis, the grooves of thinking that obscure our sense of things, that may–when they are reactions to old wounds–trap us in habits that are harmful. Yoga is a process of removal, of thinning old patterns, reducing their hold on us. We may feel more free. We may become more adaptable and suffer less. But Patañjali here says that, as much as you may come to know your heart, as much as you may experience the quality of brightness, clarity, and peace that is sattva, know that you are not now beyond the material world. You are in it. The world has shaped you.

Today’s sūtra re-introduces the term puruṣa, and it sets up a contrast between sattva and puruṣa. The two terms are paired, in a compound with a dual case ending. Grammatically speaking, this is a lovely construction.The two are paired, Patañjali says, but–is there irony here?–they are “unmixed” (asaṅkīrṇayoḥ). Not just unmixed, but “absolutely” (atyanta) unmixed.

So what is sattva and what is puruṣa?

Sattva is the one of the three guṇas, the constituent forces of nature. Derived from as, “to be,” it is brightness, goodness. In this context, sattva can be understood to stand in for all three guṇas (sattva/tamas/rajas) and to also represent the most refined state of citta, the clearest state of mind. Citta is part of nature.

Puruṣa is the sāṅkhya philosophy (see I.44) term for soul or spirit. The word puruṣa in a non-philosophical context just means “person.” So Patañjali here is bringing us to the question of our personhood. Who are we?

Knowledge of puruṣa, Patañjali says, comes from contemplation (saṁyama) on the distinction between what is for the purpose of itself (sva-artha) and what is for the purpose of another (para-artha). That is a lot to take in, a complex formulation in just a few words. It describes an essential idea of the sāṅkhya system of thought, that nature is for the purpose of spirit, and spirit serves its own purpose–spirit is the one who experiences (see Sāṅkhya Karika, verse 17.)

I find the sāṅkhya concepts only get me so far, and to go deeper into meaning, I am indebted to Rohit Mehta’s way of describing puruṣa and of considering self-purpose and other-purpose. Mehta says puruṣa is the “unconditioned mind.” It is consciousness removed of all vṛttis, which are  conditionings. The unconditioned mind, according to Mehta, happens only in a “moment of discontinuity,” a moment when we as observers see the object for what it is, for “its own purpose,” not according to our “own purpose.”

The discontinuous moment is one in which, through increasing presence to the story of self, we also release that story. A self/not-self experience. Being/not-being. Patañjali’s warning here, then, is to not mistake these remarkable moments for an achievement that we have acquired, an egoless state that we can lay claim to. Everything we perceive is through citta, and as clear as we might make that lens of perception, as sattvic a moment as we may experience, it is the nature of nature to move and shift and for the lens to be affected by that, by the rolling along of life as it is lived. We can’t be other than participant-observers.

Thus the values and disciplines of the yamas and niyamas are so useful, so important. They help us ask ourselves, not just how is my yoga but how am I living?

I have heard, in many spiritual and psychological contexts, from church to 12-step-programs to psychotherapy to yoga practice, the recommendation to “surrender the ego.” This often hits my ear the wrong way, and I often hear members–some of whom seem to me to need more a sense of autonomy and choice–declare that they need to overcome ego. Do they mean pride, vanity? (see asmita, II.6) And yet many of these same members will look to leaders who are filled with ego, who are pumped up and pumping with vanity.  What I see are leaders dominantly asserting their egos and followers disciplining themselves to turn over agency to the leader.

I see this now in our larger culture. We are living through a rise in authoritarianism and are now under the threat of a white nationalist theocracy. Why do so many seek to turn their power over to another human being?

For me, it has been a journey to come into the sense of self, to live in a more authentic way in me. In working to make the ego “right-sized,” I have to correct in the direction of owning my needs and purposes, not surrendering them, as it were, but saying, Oh, right, yea, that’s true.

Author CJ Hauser describes their attraction to being “the lady with a lamp” (a reference to Florence Nightingale) in relationships:

Saving someone feels easy, compared to asking yourself who the hell you are and what you want and how you want to be loved and by whom. Compared to asking, How might I care for myself? In my life, the answers to these questions have never been clear. Back [then], the questions had never even been asked. — CJ Hauser, The Crane Wife, p. 125

I love the truth of this passage. I know my practice means I must ask, How am I? How might I care for myself? This is the beginning of centering, of moving toward authenticity and good boundaries. How can I make better boundaries in relationship if I don’t know myself better? What is mine? What is someone else’s?

This world is aching for us all to get better at relationship. What is my relationship to myself? Am I embodying self-worth? Am I practicing self-care? How about to others? Do I value and respect difference? Do I grant others their “own-purpose”? Do I give time to the larger purpose of helping to build a world that works better for us all? Do I know myself to be dependent on a fabric of mutual care?

Do I respect my own personhood? Do I respect the personhood of others? That is a good contemplation for today.

—–

“Sattva is the third and the most refined condition of guṇas or the conditioning factors of consciousness. Because it is the most refined, one is normally not aware of its conditioning factor. One regards it almost as the unconditioned state of consciousness. Its main role is to synthesize, but this effort to synthesize is motivated by the conditioning factors with which the sattvic-guna is impregnated….It is only by being aware of the activities and the movements of the observer, that there will come into being the unconditioned state of consciousness or the puruṣa.” –Rohit Mehta, Yoga, the Art of Integration, p. 348-9

“Those who forget the Self and attend to intellect, thinking that intellect is everything, forget the host, attend to the servant. Self is the cause, intellect only an instrument. You can know the Self through Self only.” –Shri Purohit Swāmi, Aphorisms of Yoga,  p. 69

“This aphorism describes a radical change of objectives within the personality. A human being who is not lucid, or a believer who does not perceive spiritual presence within, follows a host of outer objectives.” –Bernard Bouanchaud, The Essence of Yoga, commentary on III.36

Questions:
• Has honoring your own needs changed how you understand/perceive the needs of others?
• Has success or failure brought you to a truer sense of who you are?
• Has an increase of sensitivity increased your knowledge of yourself?
• Which of your roles do you most identify with? Is it possible to separate your sense of self from these roles?
• Has yoga brought you a sense of inner presence?