sthūla-svarūpa-sūkṣmānvayārthavattva-saṁyamād bhūta-jayaḥ
sthūla-svarūpa-sūkṣma-anvaya-arthavattva-saṁyamāt bhūta-jayaḥ
“From saṁyama on the physical world–the rough form, essence, subtle layers, interconnection, and  meaning–attunement with the elements.”

In today’s sūtra, Patañjali moves–in the words of Rohit Mehta–from “vastness to minuteness.” Look at the details of the physical world, says Patañjali, and he provides guidance. Look at the rough form of the thing (sthūla), its essential quality (svarūpa), and its subtle make-up (sūkṣma). See and enjoy connection (anvaya) and purpose (arthavattva).

Matthew Remski writes: “By living intimately with nature and learning the large and the small, the still and the dynamic, and how things work together, one feels blessed by the world.” This sense of blessing is a key reason we do yoga–Remski has named it aptly. Yoga helps us be intimate with our own bodies, with our breath, with the elements of our physical experience. Here we are, not somewhere else. We know connection and feel belonging.

Yoga practice cultivates subtlety of perception, attention to particulars–whether that be the movement of skin in an āsana or the quality of vibration in a chant. Yoga insists on direct observation, on participation.

The modern, Western world preferences the mental, and I am often surprised at how little time schoolchildren are given to be outside, to have direct experience there. Modern people, generally, live in a sensory deprived state, with artificial light, polluted air, plastic surfaces, constant noise of combustion engines. Yet we are built to be in close connection to the elements of the natural world, their sounds, sights, pleasures. Joy Harjo powerfully expresses this rupture:

The mind hungers for water over rocks,
The companionship of trees
And how light and the winds play together against
The skin of the earth.
–Joy Harjo, “Shapeshifter,” published in The New Yorker magazine, Oct. 6, 2025

It is a blessing to us to bring our attention to the minuteness of things–to the water, the rock, a leaf. We hunger for it. It soothes and settles us. It brings bhūta-jayaḥ, which is the subject of this sūtra.

The bhūta (from bhū, “to be”) are the five elements–earth, water, fire, air, space–though bhūta could also be understood to be “that which exists.” Jaya derives from ji, “to win,” and it carries a happy sense of victory, jubilation. I have chosen not to use the English word “mastery”  to translate jaya here, since it carries a sense of domination, even subjugation, which seems out of place in this context. Instead, I have translated bhūta-jaya as “attunement with the senses.”

To use Joy Harjo’s words, the mind hungers for attunement with the living world. Anvaya is connection, and we seek connection to experience meaning.

Arthavattva, purposefulness, is an intriguing aspect of III.45. The word artha is an important one in Patañjali’s Yoga Sūtras, occurring as many as eighteen times in the text. Pada Two begins with a statement of the purpose of yoga (II.2, “yoga is for the lessening of pain and the realization of connection”) and develops in II.18, II.21, II.23 a consideration of why things exist at all. For me, there is a deep existential answerlessness to the aphorisms. Yet there is no doubt that Patañjali points us to meaning, offers us this way, that way, and another way to meaningfulness. In I.28, Patañjali tells us that it is through repetition (japa) of OM that we will realize its meaning (artha).

And so let us consider meaning and purpose. There is much that is fractured in the modern world. The burning of fossil fuels, in just a few centuries time, has thrown off the balance of the elements. The climate is too hot. Fire, water, air are increasingly turbulent, chaotic.

In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus upbraids his listeners to pay attention, to observe themselves and to consider the moment:

Jesus said to the crowds, “When you see a cloud rising in the west, you say at once, ‘It is going to rain’; and it does. And when you see the south wind blowing, you say, ‘There will be scorching heat’; and there is. You players! You know how to interpret the look of earth and sky, why don’t you know how to interpret the present time?” —Luke, 12:54-56

How do we interpret the present time? (The Greek word used for time here is kairos. It carries an implication of opportunity, significance, purpose, in contrast to chronos, which is sequential, numerical time.)

Cop 30, the global conference on climate change, has just concluded without a resolution on eliminating fossil fuels. Reporter Jonathan Watts explains that the results could have been worse. There could have been backsliding. Instead, infinitesimal progress was made, in the face of intense and ongoing resistance. Coalitions for taking climate action have held, and the work is ongoing. In an interview with Democracy Now, Watts spoke emphatically: “We are in a battle around the world, between those who want to keep the world habitable and those who want to exploit it until there is nothing left.”

What time is it? Change is happening. Who will shape that change? Cop 30 has made clear that those who have contributed the least to the heating of the planet are suffering the most from rising temperatures. Those of us who are citizens of the global north bear a responsibility here. Our nations have the resources to build a just transition, which would mean investment in renewables and support for adaptation.

If we seek attunement, if we seek connection, this is the time to act.

—–

“The Universe is made from the constituents of the basic elements of nature, earth (pṛthvi), water (āp), fire (tejas), air (vāyu) and ether (ākāśa). Each element possesses five attributes, mass (sthūla), subtlety (sūkṣma), form (svarūpa), all-pervasiveness or interpenetration (anvaya), and purpose or fruition (arthavattva). The characteristic of the gross forms of elements are solidity, fluidity, heat, mobility and volume. Their subtle counterparts are smell, taste, sight touch and sound. Their all-pervasiveness or interpenetration are the three guṇas, and their purpose is either worldly enjoyment or freedom and beatitude. [See Table 14 on the elements and their properties as well.]” -B.K.S. Iyengar, Light on the Yoga Sūtras of Patañjali, commentary on III.45

“When we can play with the elements within our own bodies, with their renewal and disproportion and rebalancing, then we are aware of nature at a level that is not apprehendable in a normal way. It is supranatural, as normal consciousness is blind to it. We are discovering evolution through a journey of involution, like a salmon swimming back up the torrent from which he was born to spawn again.”–B.K.S. Iyengar, Light on Life, p. 206

“By living intimately with nature and learning the large and the small, the still and the dynamic, and how things work together, one feels blessed by the world. … In other words, meditate on the details of the world, and the world will seem to begin to communicate with you as the larger you that it is.” –Matthew Remski, Threads of Yoga, p. 181

Questions:
• How do the properties of the elements inform your practice? What would be an example, for you, of “playing with the elements”?
•What are patterns of being out-of-balance for you? In your physical body? In your mind and emotions? What methods help you restore and regulate?
•What supports you through these turbulent times?
•What might we as a society do to connect to the natural world better? How might more of us, in a daily way, be more intimate with the elements?