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Tag: Self-awareness

  • Dear Diary: Observing the Clouds of Emotion

    Dear Diary: Observing the Clouds of Emotion

    How Mindful Observation of Emotions Brings Inner Peace and Clarity

    Dear Diary,

    I write to you today, not with answers, but with the tenderness that comes from watching the sky change, hour by hour, and wondering what it all means. Have you noticed, as I have, how emotions can rise like a storm? Sometimes, they begin softly—like a gray mist that hangs just above the earth—and at other times, they roll in like thunderclouds, filling the horizon. It is so tempting, in these moments, to reach out, to try and push them away, or to brace ourselves for the deluge we think must come. But what if, instead, we learned to be still?

    I have come to realize that our emotions are not permanent; they are travelers, passing through. And though they demand our attention, we are not them. We are not the sadness or the frustration, nor are we the joy that sometimes feels so fleeting. We are the sky, vast and unshakable, watching with quiet patience as each cloud forms, darkens, and eventually dissipates.

    To witness without judgment is a practice, one that asks of us not resistance, but gentleness. It is in this gentleness that we find our true strength—not in control, but in allowing. We can observe the emotions without being drawn into their storm. When anger swells, or grief lingers, we remind ourselves that they are like clouds: they have shape and form, but they will pass. And we remain, unbound, beneath it all.

    I share this with you because I, too, am learning. Each day, I remind myself that I am not the shifting weather, but the sky itself. And I hope, in your own moments of storm and stillness, you might find comfort in this, knowing that the vastness within you remains untouched, no matter how strong the winds may blow.

    Yours in quiet reflection,

    Richard

    🙏🕊️🙏

  • Post 9: The Power of Detachment: Patanjali’s Sutras 1.15 and 1.16

    Post 9: The Power of Detachment: Patanjali’s Sutras 1.15 and 1.16

    In the previous post, we explored the importance of discipline and consistent effort in mastering the mind. Now, Patanjali introduces the concept of detachment as a natural extension of that discipline. In Sutras 1.15 and 1.16, he reveals the deeper layers of non-attachment and how they lead to freedom from desires and aversions.

    1.15: Detachment is the conscious effort to let go of desires for objects or experiences, both seen and unseen.
    1.16: The highest level of detachment is achieved when there is freedom from the pull of even the most subtle mental events, leading to the experience of pure consciousness.

    The Practice of Detachment

    Detachment (vairagya) is the conscious practice of letting go of desires and aversions. In Sutra 1.15, Patanjali defines detachment as the effort to release attachments to both seen and unseen objects or experiences. This includes everything from physical possessions to emotional desires and even subtle expectations we might have about the future.

    Detachment doesn’t mean indifference or suppression of desires. Instead, it is about witnessing these desires as mental events without becoming attached to them. By observing them with clarity, we free ourselves from the push and pull of likes and dislikes. The practice of Neti, neti. I am the witness. I am the Seer helps us recognize these desires as fluctuations of the mind, not reflections of our true self.

    This conscious effort to release attachment is a key part of cultivating equanimity. The more we practice detachment, the more we are able to rest in the pristine mind—a state of awareness that is unaffected by the mind’s desires.

    The Highest Level of Detachment

    In Sutra 1.16, Patanjali describes the highest form of detachment: the ability to remain unaffected by even the most subtle mental events. At this level, we are free from the pull of both desires and aversions, and we rest in pure awareness.

    This is not a state of cold detachment, but a profound experience of freedom. When we are no longer swayed by the mind’s constant fluctuations, we experience a deep sense of peace and clarity. This is the state of kaivalya—pure consciousness—where the Seer abides in its true nature, untouched by mental events.

    Sogyal Rinpoche, a renowned meditation master, often emphasized that meditation is about cultivating non-distraction. The state of meditation is, at its core, a state of non-distraction—remaining present and aware, without being swept away by the mind’s fluctuations. This ties directly into Patanjali’s teaching on detachment. By practicing Neti, neti. I am the witness. I am the Seer, we cultivate non-distraction, allowing us to remain steady in the awareness of the Seer, free from the pull of desires and aversions. Meditation, in this sense, is the practice of being undistracted by mental events, resting in the stillness of the pristine mind.

    The highest level of detachment doesn’t come overnight. It is cultivated through disciplined practice and sincere commitment, as outlined in the previous sutras. As we grow in our ability to let go of desires, we move closer to this state of pure consciousness, where the mind’s fluctuations no longer hold sway over us.

    Bringing It Into Practice: Cultivating Detachment

    Detachment is a practice that we can cultivate daily. Each time we notice a desire or aversion arising, we can pause and observe it as a mental event. Using the phrase “Neti, neti. I am the witness. I am the Seer,” we create space between ourselves and the desire, allowing it to pass without engaging with it.

    This practice of letting go doesn’t mean we should avoid enjoying life or fulfilling our needs. Rather, it’s about maintaining a sense of equanimity, where we are not defined by our desires or driven by them. We can enjoy what life brings while remaining unattached to the outcomes, staying rooted in the awareness of the Seer.

    Over time, this practice of detachment brings a deep sense of freedom. We begin to experience life more fully, without the constant push and pull of desires, aversions, and expectations. The mind’s fluctuations lose their power, and we rest in the stillness of the pristine mind.

    The Joy of Non-Attachment

    As we grow in our practice of detachment, we discover that non-attachment is not about losing joy but about gaining freedom. When we are no longer caught up in the mind’s desires, we experience a deeper, more authentic sense of happiness. This joy arises from being present in the moment, fully engaged with life yet unattached to any particular outcome.

    Non-attachment also allows us to respond to life with greater compassion and wisdom. When we are not driven by our own desires, we can see situations more clearly and act from a place of inner stillness. This is the power of detachment—a freedom that allows us to experience life in its fullness, without becoming entangled in its fluctuations.

    Coming Up Next:

    In our next post, we will explore Sutras 1.17 and 1.18, where Patanjali describes the various stages of meditative absorption and the transition from mental events to deeper states of awareness. Join me as we continue this journey toward deeper clarity, peace, and self-realization.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Neti Neti Series No. 6: Guiding the Ego and Approaching Rig-pa with “Not This, Not This”

    Neti Neti Series No. 6: Guiding the Ego and Approaching Rig-pa with “Not This, Not This”

    Question:

    How does the mantra Neti Neti help the ego by constantly negating experiences, and how does this practice relate to moments of rig-pa or the experience of deep relaxation without a sense of self?

    Dear friend,

    It brings a quiet joy to hear of your continued practice with the mantra “Not This, Not This.” There is a deep wisdom in the way you have approached this mantra, almost as if you have gently given the ego a new role—one that is not about grasping or achieving, but simply letting go. By assigning the ego the task of negation, you are engaging it in a way that transforms its usual tendencies, guiding it to release its hold on whatever arises in your mind.

    Imagine, if you will, the ego as a diligent worker, tirelessly trying to define and control your experience. But now, you have given it a simpler, more profound task: to say “Not This, Not This” to whatever appears before it. In doing so, the ego no longer needs to dominate or possess; instead, it becomes an instrument of release, of gentle detachment. This redirection of its energy allows you to experience a profound relaxation—a state of being that is free from the usual burdens of identification and striving.

    You mentioned Rig-pa, the pure, pristine awareness described in Tibetan Buddhism. This state, as you know, is one of complete clarity and non-duality, where there is no separation between observer and observed, no “I” to claim the experience. It is true that when one is fully in Rig-pa, there is no one there to say, “I have experienced Rig-pa.” It is simply the natural state, beyond all dualistic notions of self.

    Perhaps you have touched upon moments of this awareness in your practice, moments so simple and clear that they passed by without fanfare. This is often the way of such states—they do not announce themselves with grandiosity but arrive in the quiet spaces of the mind. The fact that you find this mantra particularly relaxing might suggest that you are indeed drawing nearer to this natural state, even if it is not fully apparent to the ordinary mind.

    The relaxation you feel is not just a fleeting sense of comfort—it is a deep, existential ease that arises when the mind is no longer tasked with searching or solving. “Not This, Not This” allows you to set aside the need to be anything other than what you are in this moment. It is a relaxation that goes beyond the physical or mental, touching the core of your being. This is a sign that you are moving in the right direction, toward a state of pure being, where the entanglements of the ego are gently unraveled.

    Continue with this mantra, my dear friend, for it seems to be guiding you beautifully on your journey. Trust in the relaxation you feel, for it is not merely a sign of peace, but a deepening into the essence of who you truly are. Whether or not you recognize moments of Rig-pa, know that you are cultivating the conditions for this awareness to arise naturally, in its own time and in its own way.

    Your path is unfolding with grace, and this mantra is becoming a trusted companion, leading you ever closer to the stillness and clarity that lies at the heart of all being. Continue with gentle persistence, and allow the simplicity of “Not This, Not This” to carry you further into the depths of your own true nature.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Post 8: The Importance of Discipline: Patanjali’s Sutras 1.13 and 1.14

    Post 8: The Importance of Discipline: Patanjali’s Sutras 1.13 and 1.14

    As we have seen in the previous sutras, Patanjali emphasizes the nature of mental events—fluctuations that arise in the mind—which can either distract us or be observed with clarity. Now, in Sutras 1.13 and 1.14, Patanjali shifts our attention to the importance of disciplined practice, showing us how consistent effort is essential in gaining mastery over the mind.

    1.13: The practice of yoga is the effort to remain steady in the awareness of the Seer.
    1.14: This practice becomes firmly grounded when pursued for a long time, without interruption, and with sincerity.

    These two sutras bring into focus the essential qualities of discipline in yoga: persistence, consistency, and sincerity. Patanjali emphasizes that mastery over the mind is not achieved through occasional effort but through sustained, dedicated practice over time.

    The Effort to Remain Steady

    Sutra 1.13 defines the practice of yoga as the effort to remain steady in the awareness of the Seer. This is where discipline truly comes into play. In our day-to-day life, the mind is constantly drawn into the fluctuations of thoughts, emotions, and external distractions. The practice of yoga, as Patanjali teaches, is the ongoing effort to maintain our awareness of the Seer—the true self—amid these fluctuations.

    This is not a passive state of relaxation but an active practice of mindfulness. Each time we notice a mental event, we have the opportunity to reaffirm our awareness of the Seer. Using the phrase “Neti, Neti. I am the witness. I am the Seer,” we can gently return to the present moment, reminding ourselves that we are not the fluctuations of the mind but the one who observes them.

    The effort here is not about forcefully suppressing thoughts or emotions, but about gently bringing the mind back to stillness each time it becomes distracted. Over time, this practice strengthens our ability to remain steady and centered, even in the face of mental events.

    The Power of Consistency

    Patanjali elaborates further in Sutra 1.14, reminding us that this practice becomes firmly grounded only when it is pursued for a long time, without interruption, and with sincerity. Consistency is key in yoga. The mind’s fluctuations are relentless, and it takes sustained effort to cultivate the steadiness of the Seer.

    Patanjali’s emphasis on long-term practice is important. Mastery over the mind doesn’t happen overnight, nor is it achieved through sporadic practice. The discipline of yoga requires us to show up again and again, each time renewing our commitment to remain present. Over time, this consistency bears fruit, allowing us to experience greater clarity, peace, and self-awareness.

    This is why sincerity is also essential. It’s not just about going through the motions of meditation or mindfulness; it’s about truly committing to the practice with an open heart. When we practice sincerely, we develop a deep sense of trust in the process, knowing that each moment of mindfulness strengthens our ability to remain in the awareness of the Seer.

    Bringing It Into Practice: Building a Steady Practice

    In practical terms, this means making space in our daily lives for consistent practice. Whether it’s through meditation, mindful breathing, or simply taking moments throughout the day to return to the awareness of the Seer, the key is to remain dedicated.

    When distractions arise, and they inevitably will, gently bring your awareness back with “Neti, Neti. I am the witness. I am the Seer.” This simple phrase helps you cultivate the steadiness that Patanjali describes, allowing you to witness the mind’s activity without becoming entangled in it.

    The power of this practice lies in its repetition. The more we engage with the process, the more natural it becomes to return to stillness. Over time, we develop a firm foundation of mindfulness that can weather even the most persistent mental events.

    Maintaining Discipline Through Sincerity

    As we practice, it’s essential to approach the discipline with sincerity. This doesn’t mean pushing ourselves harshly or becoming frustrated when the mind wanders. Instead, it’s about maintaining a gentle, loving commitment to the process. Each time we bring the mind back to the Seer, we do so with a sense of gratitude for the opportunity to deepen our awareness.

    In this way, discipline becomes less of a burden and more of an act of devotion. We are not forcing the mind into stillness; we are guiding it, with patience and sincerity, toward a deeper connection with our true nature. Over time, this practice becomes a source of joy, as we witness the mind’s fluctuations without becoming attached to them, remaining steady in the awareness of the Seer.

    Coming Up Next:

    In the next post, we will explore Sutras 1.15 and 1.16, where Patanjali introduces the concept of detachment and deeper levels of non-attachment. We will reflect on how this practice of detachment can free us from the grip of desires and aversions, allowing us to remain centered in the Seer. Join me as we continue this journey toward mastery over the mind and deeper self-awareness.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Post 7: Memory and Non-Attachment: Patanjali’s Sutras 1.11 and 1.12

    In the previous post, we explored the nature of imagination and sleep as mental events, recognizing their potential to distract us or be witnessed with clarity. Now, Patanjali takes us further into the exploration of mental events, focusing on memory and the practice of non-attachment.

    1.11: Memory is the retention of mental impressions from past experiences.
    1.12: Non-attachment is the practice of detaching from mental events, leading to mastery over them.

    These sutras offer a profound reflection on how the mind holds onto the past and how cultivating non-attachment can free us from the grip of these mental events. Memory, while useful, can often bind us to patterns of thought that shape our perception of the present. Non-attachment becomes the key to releasing these patterns and living more fully in the pristine mind.

    Memory: A Mental Event That Holds Us in the Past

    Memory (smriti) is a powerful mental event that allows us to recall past experiences, feelings, and thoughts. On a practical level, memory is essential for learning and functioning in daily life. However, when we become overly attached to our memories, they can cloud our present awareness, trapping us in patterns of the past.

    For example, we often replay old memories in our minds, reliving past successes, failures, or emotional moments. These memories can influence our current perception, making it difficult to see the present clearly. They create mental events that may feel real but are rooted in the past, shaping how we engage with the world around us.

    Just as with imagination and sleep, memory is simply another mental event. The more we engage with it, the more it pulls us away from the present moment. However, by recognizing memory as a mental event, we can observe it without becoming attached, allowing it to arise and pass without coloring our awareness of the now.

    Non-Attachment: The Key to Mastering Mental Events

    Patanjali introduces the practice of non-attachment (vairagya) in Sutra 1.12 as the means by which we gain mastery over the fluctuations of the mind. Non-attachment doesn’t mean suppressing or avoiding mental events; rather, it is the practice of witnessing them without becoming identified with them.

    In the case of memory, non-attachment allows us to remember the past without letting it control the present. By practicing Neti, Neti. I am the witness. I am the Seer., we remind ourselves that we are not the memory, but the one who observes it. This simple practice of non-attachment creates space between us and the mental event, freeing us from the patterns of the past.

    Non-attachment is not something that happens overnight. It is cultivated through disciplined practice, returning to the awareness of the pristine mind again and again. As we grow in our ability to observe mental events without attachment, we strengthen our capacity to remain present, no matter what arises in the mind.

    Bringing It Into Practice: Letting Go of Memory’s Grip

    When memories arise during meditation or daily life, it’s important to acknowledge them without getting caught in their narrative. You can simply remind yourself, “Neti, Neti. I am the witness. I am the Seer.” This helps create the mental space to witness the memory and let it go without attachment.

    In doing so, we train ourselves to let go of the past and stay rooted in the present. We begin to see memory as just another mental event, not as something that defines who we are or how we must respond to life. With each practice of non-attachment, we loosen the grip that memories have over us, freeing ourselves from the patterns that bind us to the past.

    This practice doesn’t diminish the importance of memory but helps us place it in its proper context—as a useful tool rather than an overwhelming influence. As we continue to practice non-attachment, we experience more freedom, clarity, and presence in our everyday life.

    Maintaining Discipline in Non-Attachment

    The discipline of non-attachment requires patience and consistency. The mind will naturally want to hold onto memories, but each time we observe them without attachment, we take a step closer to mastery. Non-attachment isn’t about becoming indifferent; it’s about becoming fully present, without being swayed by the mental events that arise.

    Through this discipline, we can cultivate a deeper awareness of the pristine mind—a state of clarity, peace, and presence that is untouched by the mind’s fluctuations. The more we practice non-attachment, the easier it becomes to witness mental events and remain centered in the Seer.

    Coming Up Next:

    In our next post, we will explore Sutra 1.13 and 1.14, where Patanjali explains the importance of disciplined practice in achieving mastery over the mind. We’ll reflect on how consistent effort and non-attachment work together to bring us closer to the realization of our true nature. Join me as we continue this journey toward deeper self-awareness and inner peace.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Post 5: Simplifying the Mental Events: Patanjali’s Sutras 1.7 and 1.8

    In our previous post, we explored how the mind fluctuates through five different types of mental events, or vrittis, as outlined in Sutras 1.5 and 1.6. These mental fluctuations—whether based on right knowledge, wrong knowledge, imagination, sleep, or memory—are all part of the mind’s natural activity. Patanjali now dives deeper into two specific categories of these mental events: right knowledge and wrong knowledge.

    1.7: Right knowledge is based on direct perception, inference, or the testimony of others.
    1.8: Wrong knowledge is a false understanding that is not based on reality.

    Patanjali’s distinction between right and wrong knowledge is important in understanding how our mind interprets the world. However, while this distinction is helpful, it can also lead us into a dualistic mindset, where we feel the need to evaluate every thought and determine whether it is “right” or “wrong.” This process can quickly become a source of confusion and further mental activity, pulling us away from the simplicity of recognizing the mind’s fluctuations for what they are: just mental events.

    The Trap of Over-Analyzing Mental Events

    When we begin to engage with thoughts, trying to categorize them as true or false, we lose sight of the purpose of yoga: to quiet the mind and return to the awareness of the Seer. It’s easy to get caught up in evaluating whether our perception is accurate or if our thoughts align with reality. However, in doing so, we fall back into the mind’s natural tendency to analyze, categorize, and divide. This keeps us stuck in the fluctuations rather than witnessing them from the calm, steady place of the Seer.

    This is where the teachings of Pristine Mind, as shared by Orgyen Chowang, become helpful. Instead of evaluating each thought, we can view all of these fluctuations—whether based on right or wrong knowledge—as simple mental events. When a thought arises, we don’t need to engage with it or analyze its validity. Instead, we gently recognize, “Ah, a mental event,” and return to the awareness of the pristine mind. This allows us to maintain a simpler, more manageable practice, without getting lost in the content of the thought itself.

    Bringing It Into Practice: The Power of Simplicity

    When thoughts arise during practice—whether they seem to be accurate or inaccurate—there is no need to judge or engage with them. By labeling them as mental events, we create space between the mind’s activity and our true nature, the Seer. This space allows us to witness the thoughts without becoming involved in them, reminding us that we are not our thoughts.

    However, there may be times when certain mental events are more distracting or persistent. In these moments, you can use the phrase, “Neti, neti. I am the Seer. I am the witness.” This simple yet powerful affirmation not only helps you negate the mental event but also affirms the truth of your being. It is not a mechanical mantra, but a tool to guide you back to a state of equanimity and mindful observance.

    When subtle mental events arise and pass away without distracting you, there’s no need to engage with the phrase. You can simply rest in the stillness of your mind, observing without interference. But when the mind becomes entangled in a particularly strong mental event, repeating “Neti, neti. I am the Seer. I am the witness” can help you return to the awareness of the Seer, allowing the mental event to dissolve and stillness to re-emerge.

    This flexible approach honors the flow of your practice—allowing you to respond when needed, while maintaining a light touch when the mind is naturally calm.

    Maintaining Discipline in the Face of Mental Events

    Just as we discussed in earlier posts, this approach requires discipline. The mind will always want to evaluate, engage, and label, but the practice of yoga teaches us to observe these mental events without getting drawn into them. Discipline is what allows us to consistently return to the stillness of the Seer, untouched by the mind’s activity. The more we practice this discipline, the easier it becomes to remain present and unaffected by the fluctuations of the mind.

    By adopting this simpler approach, we give ourselves the freedom to experience the pristine mind more frequently, without the need to overanalyze or categorize every thought. This shift in perspective allows us to experience the deeper peace that yoga offers, moving us closer to the realization of our true nature.

    Coming Up Next:

    In our next post, we will explore Sutras 1.9 and 1.10, where Patanjali continues his exploration of mental events, focusing on imagination and sleep. We will see how these mental events, too, can either distract us from the Seer or be witnessed with clarity. Join me as we continue this journey toward a deeper understanding of the mind and the peace that comes from recognizing all thoughts as just mental events.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Neti Neti Series No. 2: The Mantra That Dissolves into Silence

    Question:

    As I sit in meditation, repeating the mantra “Neti Neti,” I understand that this sacred phrase helps to strip away all that I am not. Thoughts arise, and I negate them. Emotions surface, and I let them go. Even the awareness of being a witness or the experience of stillness—these too, I recognize as not the ultimate reality.

    Yet, a subtle dilemma has emerged. I wonder, what happens when the very idea of “I” who is meditating dissolves? Is it not true that as long as there is an “I” who continues the practice, the mantra “Neti Neti” must also continue? And if this is the case, does the mantra cease only when the “I” itself disappears into the natural state of pure being? In such a moment, is it the case that the mantra stops on its own, not by my choosing, but because there is no longer an “I” to hold it?

    And then, when the sense of “I” returns, does the mantra begin again naturally, as the duality of subject and object re-emerges? I seek your wisdom on this matter, for I wish to understand the true nature of this practice and its ultimate purpose.

    Dear friend,

    Your question, born from a place of sincere inquiry, touches upon the very heart of the “Neti Neti” practice. I commend you for your diligence and the subtlety of your understanding, which reveals a mind that is both reflective and deeply engaged in the journey inward.

    Yes, you have grasped a key truth: the mantra “Neti Neti” is indeed a tool for continuous negation. It is a practice of peeling away the layers of illusion, gently, one by one, until nothing remains but the pure, unadorned awareness that is your true nature.

    As long as there is an “I” who perceives itself as meditating, this “I” exists within the realm of duality—where there is a subject (the meditator) and an object (the practice, the mantra, the thoughts). In this dualistic state, the mantra serves its purpose, guiding the mind to recognize that each arising thought, each sensation, each experience of stillness or witnessing, is not the ultimate reality. “Not this, not this,” the mantra whispers, reminding you that you are not these transient phenomena.

    But what happens when the sense of “I” begins to dissolve? When the boundary between perceiver and perceived starts to blur and fade? Herein lies a profound mystery: as the “I” that meditates melts into the ocean of pure being, the mantra, too, falls silent. For in the state of non-duality, where all distinctions have vanished, there is no need for the mantra—no “I” to repeat it, no “other” to negate. What remains is the natural state, the effortless being that is beyond all concepts, all forms, all practices.

    In this state, you do not stop the mantra; rather, the mantra ceases on its own, like a river merging with the sea, no longer distinguishable as a separate entity. This silence is not a void but a fullness, an infinite expanse of awareness where the true self—Atman—is realized, free from the confines of duality.

    And yet, the journey doesn’t end there. If and when the sense of ‘I’ re-emerges, as it often does, the mantra returns naturally. This is not a step backward but a return to the dualistic state where the mind resumes its habitual patterns. The mantra then resumes its sacred task of guiding you back toward the still, silent center where the distinctions between self and other can once again dissolve.

    So, dear friend, your understanding is indeed correct. The mantra “Neti Neti” is not something to be stopped by an act of will, but rather it fades away of its own accord when there is no longer an “I” to sustain it. And when the “I” returns, the mantra too returns, ready to lead you back into the depths of stillness and silence.

    Trust in this process, and allow the practice to unfold naturally, without forcing or grasping. The journey of “Neti Neti” is one of gentle negation, patient observation, and deep surrender. In time, you will come to rest more and more in the natural state, where the mantra is no longer needed, and the self is known in its true, infinite nature.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Post 4: Understanding the Five Types of Mental Fluctuations: Patanjali’s Sutras 1.5 and 1.6

    In our previous post, we reflected on the profound distinction between the Seer and the fluctuations of the mind, as described in Sutras 1.3 and 1.4. Patanjali taught us that when the mind is still, the Seer abides in its true nature. When the mind is not still, we identify with the fluctuations, creating a misperception of reality. This realization is crucial for the practice of yoga, as it reminds us to consistently return to the awareness of our true self, separate from the mind’s movements.

    Now, in Sutras 1.5 and 1.6, Patanjali takes us deeper into the nature of the mind’s fluctuations, or vrittis. He categorizes the mental modifications into five distinct types and explains how they can either lead us toward suffering or liberation.

    1.5: The fluctuations of the mind are fivefold and can either cause suffering or liberation from suffering.
    1.6: The five types of fluctuations are right knowledge, wrong knowledge, imagination, sleep, and memory.

    These fluctuations, or mental events, are the patterns through which our minds interpret and engage with the world. Understanding their nature is essential in recognizing when we are identifying with them and mistaking them for our true self.

    The Five Types of Mental Fluctuations

    Patanjali teaches that the mind moves through five distinct types of fluctuations, each influencing how we experience and interact with the world. These fluctuations, or vrittis, can either lead us toward suffering or provide an opportunity for liberation, depending on how we engage with them.

    The first fluctuation is right knowledge (pramana), which refers to the times when we perceive things correctly, when our understanding aligns with reality. This might come from direct experience, logical reasoning, or the wisdom of others. Even though this is a reliable form of knowledge, it is still a fluctuation of the mind, an activity that pulls us into engagement with the external world.

    The second fluctuation is wrong knowledge (viparyaya), which arises when our perception of reality is distorted. We’ve all experienced moments where we are certain about something, only to find out later that we were mistaken. These misperceptions can be deeply ingrained and cause confusion or suffering because they shape how we respond to life.

    Imagination (vikalpa) is the third type of fluctuation. The mind has the ability to create scenarios, images, and concepts that aren’t based in reality. While imagination can be a source of creativity and inspiration, it can also lead us into fantasy, pulling us away from the present moment and the truth of what is.

    The fourth fluctuation is sleep (nidra), which may seem surprising to include here, but Patanjali recognizes that sleep is a state where the mind is still active in its own way, even though it’s not consciously interacting with the outside world. While sleep is essential for rest, it too is considered a fluctuation, a temporary state of mind.

    Finally, there is memory (smriti), the recollection of past experiences. Memory can serve us by helping us learn from the past, but it can also trap us, making it hard to let go of attachments or conditioning. In many ways, memory is a powerful force that shapes our present by constantly linking us back to what has already happened.

    All five of these fluctuations—whether they seem positive or negative—are part of the mind’s natural activity. However, they are not who we truly are. The mind will always fluctuate, but as we learn to observe these movements without becoming distracted by them or without becoming attached to them, we can begin to see beyond the mental activity and rest in the awareness of the Seer, the true self.

    Each of these fluctuations arises from the mind’s natural tendency to engage with the world and interpret it. However, Patanjali’s teaching is that even right knowledge is ultimately a fluctuation of the mind.

    Liberation or Suffering

    The key to understanding the five types of vrittis lies in Patanjali’s insight that they can either lead us toward suffering or to liberation from suffering. The difference lies in how we engage with these fluctuations. When we identify with them—believing that we are our thoughts, perceptions, or memories—suffering arises. However, when we observe them as passing movements of the mind, without attachment, they lose their power over us.

    This is the practice of yoga: observing the fluctuations of the mind without getting caught in them. Through this practice, we cultivate the ability to reside in the awareness of the Seer, where the fluctuations can be present without causing suffering.

    Bringing It Into Practice

    In our daily practice, we can begin to recognize mental fluctuations as they arise by gently reminding ourselves that these mental events are simply movements of the mind—they are not who we are.

    One helpful approach is the practice of Neti Neti, meaning “not this, not this.” When a mental event arises, we can simply acknowledge it and say, “This is not me,” or “Neti, Neti,” allowing it to pass without becoming identified with it. This simple but powerful practice helps us stay rooted in the awareness of the Seer, the one who witnesses these fluctuations without being disturbed by them.

    However, this process requires discipline. It’s not enough to understand that mental events are temporary; we must cultivate a consistent practice of recognizing and letting go of these fluctuations as they occur. This discipline involves a deepening relationship with the mind, one that teaches us to observe its movements without getting caught up in them. Over time, we train ourselves to remain present and unaffected by the mind’s restlessness, just as we would train a muscle through repeated exercise.

    With each passing moment, we have the opportunity to reinforce this discipline. Whether it’s a moment of imagination, or the recollection of a memory, Neti Neti reminds us that these are merely activities of the mind, not reflections of our true self. In practicing this regularly, we strengthen our ability to remain in the stillness of the Seer, unaffected by the fluctuations of the mind.

    As we reflect on these teachings, we strengthen our ability to remain in the awareness of the Seer, watching the mind’s activity with clarity and detachment. The more we practice, the clearer the distinction between the Seer and the vrittis becomes.

    Coming Up Next:

    In our next post, we will explore Sutras 1.7 and 1.8, where Patanjali delves deeper into the nature of right knowledge and wrong knowledge, showing us how the mind can accurately or inaccurately perceive reality. We will reflect on how to sharpen our perception and recognize when we are misinterpreting the world around us. Join me as we continue this journey toward deeper awareness and understanding of the mind.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Post 3: Discovering the True Self: Reflections on Patanjali’s Sutras 1.3 and 1.4

    In the previous post, we explored the importance of discipline and of calming the mind’s fluctuations, or vrittis, as described in Sutra 1.2. This brings us to the next essential question: What happens when the mind becomes still? What is revealed in that stillness, and what occurs when we remain caught in the waves of thought?

    Patanjali’s Sutras 1.3 and 1.4 address these questions directly:

    1.3: Then, the Seer abides in its true nature.
    1.4: At other times, the Seer identifies with the fluctuations of the mind.

    These sutras point to the core of Patanjali’s teachings. When the mind is quiet and still, we experience our true self—often referred to as the Seer, the one who witnesses without attachment. In this state of presence, we are not our thoughts, emotions, or the external world. We simply are—a reflection of pure consciousness, free from the distortions created by mental activity.

    However, as Sutra 1.4 reminds us, when the mind is restless, we tend to identify with its movements. Instead of recognizing ourselves as the calm, observing presence, we become entangled in our thoughts and emotions. This misidentification is the source of much of our suffering, as we lose sight of our true nature and become caught in the illusions of the mind.

    The True Self and Misperception

    Patanjali is pointing to a fundamental distinction: there is the Seer, the pure awareness that we are, and there are the vrittis, or the mental fluctuations that obscure this awareness. When we are identified with the fluctuations, we see through a distorted lens. Our thoughts, emotions, and external circumstances take on an exaggerated sense of reality, and we mistake them for who we are. This is misperception, the root of suffering in yoga philosophy.

    However, when we practice calming the mind and returning to stillness, the vrittis subside, and we begin to experience life from a place of pure awareness. In this state, we are no longer bound by our thoughts or emotions. Instead, we recognize them as temporary movements of the mind, while our true essence remains constant and untouched.

    Applying This Wisdom in Practice

    The challenge, of course, is that the mind rarely stays still for long. Thoughts, emotions, and distractions are always arising, pulling us away from the calm, observing presence. However, the goal of yoga is not to eliminate these mental movements entirely but to shift our relationship to them.

    Through practice, we learn to observe the fluctuations of the mind without identifying with them. This is the essence of Raja Yoga—the royal path of self-mastery. As we cultivate stillness, we gain the strength to remain centered in our true nature, even as the mind continues its movements.

    Each time we sit in meditation or reflect on these teachings, we are training ourselves to return to this place of stillness, to abide in the awareness of the Seer. In doing so, we gradually loosen the grip of misperception and move closer to the realization of our true nature.

    A Reflection on Swami Vivekananda’s Translation

    Swami Vivekananda’s translation of these sutras adds another layer of clarity. His teachings emphasize the importance of self-discipline and mental focus in realizing the true self. Vivekananda reminds us that yoga is not just a path of knowledge but one of direct experience. It is through disciplined practice that we experience the Seer and begin to see through the illusions of the mind.

    Moving Forward: The Practice of Abiding in Stillness

    As we reflect on Sutras 1.3 and 1.4, we can take a practical approach to integrating their wisdom. Begin by setting aside time each day to sit in stillness, observing the movements of the mind without attachment. When thoughts arise, gently remind yourself that you are the Seer, not the fluctuations. Over time, this practice will deepen, and the distinction between the Seer and the vrittis will become clearer.

    But more than just observing, the practice invites us to abide in stillness. The word “abide” carries a richness that implies more than simply being present—it suggests resting deeply, dwelling in a state of ease, and allowing the true nature of the Seer to unfold without resistance. To abide is to sink into the natural state of awareness, where there is no striving, no force—only a quiet, steady presence.

    As Joseph Goldstein has spoken of in his commentary on the Satipatthana Sutra, abiding is not passive but an active engagement with our true nature. It is a continual resting in awareness, a soft yet unwavering commitment to remain as the witness. In this way, the Seer abides in its true nature, not as an abstract concept, but as a living, breathing experience.

    By consistently returning to stillness, we strengthen the muscle of awareness and begin to live more fully from our true nature. The journey is ongoing, but each step brings us closer to the realization of who we truly are.

    Coming Up Next:

    In the next post, we will explore Sutras 1.5 and 1.6, where Patanjali elaborates on the nature of the vrittis. We’ll learn about the five types of mental fluctuations and how they either lead to suffering or liberation. Join me as we continue this journey into the depths of the mind and the path to freedom.

    When thoughts arise, gently remind yourself that you are the Seer, not the fluctuations.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Introducing the Neti Neti Practice Series: A Journey of Self-Inquiry

    Welcome to the Practices of Neti Neti series, an exploration into one of the most profound methods of self-inquiry within the Advaita Vedanta tradition. This series is dedicated to the practice of Neti Neti—a Sanskrit phrase meaning “not this, not this”—which serves as a guide for stripping away all that is not the true Self, leading to the recognition of our pristine, unchanging nature.

    What is Neti Neti?

    Neti Neti is a process of negation that helps practitioners identify and discard false identifications with thoughts, emotions, and sensations. It is a method of peeling back the layers of the ego to reveal the stillness and silence of the pristine mind—the pure consciousness that is unaffected by the fluctuations of the mind. This practice is at the heart of Advaita Vedanta and is used to guide the seeker toward the realization of the Self, or Atman, which is ultimately one with Brahman, the universal consciousness.

    About This Series

    In this series, you will find a collection of questions and answers that delve deeply into the practice of Neti Neti. Each question is a reflection of the natural inquiries that arise during meditation and self-inquiry. The answers are written in a contemplative and encouraging style, as letters from a friend —offering wisdom, clarity, and support as you navigate your own journey of self-discovery.

    Why Questions and Answers?

    The format of questions followed by reflective answers is inspired by the teaching styles of great spiritual masters like Ramana Maharshi and Papaji. This approach allows for a dynamic exploration of the practice, addressing the doubts and insights that naturally emerge as one progresses on the path. By engaging with these questions, you’ll find that the answers are not merely intellectual responses, but invitations to deeper inquiry and realization.

    How to Use This Series

    This series is designed to be read sequentially, as the posts build upon each other, following the natural flow of practice and understanding. However, you are also welcome to explore the posts in any order, depending on where you are in your own practice.

    Each post presents a question that might arise during your meditation or reflection, followed by a letter that offers guidance on how to address it. These letters are not just answers—they are invitations to deepen your practice, to explore the subtleties of Neti Neti, and to connect with the stillness that lies beyond all mental events.

    Beginning the Journey

    As you embark on this journey through the Neti Neti practice, remember that this path is not about attaining something new, but about recognizing what has always been present. The goal is to gently guide the mind away from its distractions, allowing the pristine mind—your true nature—to shine through.

    Whether you are new to Neti Neti or looking to deepen your understanding, I invite you to explore these letters with an open heart and a quiet mind. May they serve as a steady guide on your path to self-realization.

    Engage and Explore Together

    I warmly encourage you to leave any questions or reflections in the comments section of each post. If a question resonates deeply or sparks a new line of inquiry, I may create additional blog posts to explore these topics further. Your engagement helps to create a community of shared learning, where we can all benefit from each other’s insights and experiences.

    Let us begin this journey together, one question and one insight at a time, as we uncover the truth of who we truly are.

    For those who wish to explore further the concept of pristine mind and its practices, I highly recommend Orgyen Chowang Rinpoche’s book, Pristine Mind: A Journey into Self-Awareness. Although this book does not specifically address the Neti Neti practice, it offers profound insights into the nature of pristine mind, a state of pure awareness that lies beyond the mental events and distractions that often cloud our perception. Rinpoche’s teachings provide a clear and accessible guide to realizing and resting in this natural state, which closely aligns with the ultimate goal of Neti Neti. You can explore the Kindle version of this book below, which may serve as a valuable companion on your journey of self-inquiry and spiritual awakening.

    🙏🕊️🙏

  • Patanjali No. 2: The First Steps of Yoga: Stillness and Strength in Practice

    “Now, the discipline of yoga begins.”
    —Patanjali, Yoga Sutra 1.1

    With this simple declaration, Patanjali invites us into the present moment. “Atha Yoganushasanam” is a call to awaken to the path of yoga, the path of inner discipline and self-realization. It is a call to begin, no matter where we are in our lives. Yoga, in its deepest sense, is the discipline of mind, body, and spirit—and it begins now.

    For many of us, beginning the practice of yoga means stepping into an unfamiliar space. It is more than just physical postures; it is the cultivation of a stillness that transcends the waves of thought, emotion, and distraction. As Patanjali tells us in the second sutra:

    “Yoga is the cessation of the fluctuations of the mind.”
    —Patanjali, Yoga Sutra 1.2

    These fluctuations, or vrittis, are the constant movement of our thoughts and emotions. They pull us away from the present moment and cloud our perception of who we truly are. Yoga, then, is the practice of calming these fluctuations, of finding a stillness that allows us to return to the essence of our being.

    But this stillness does not come easily. It requires strength—not the strength of the body, but the strength of the spirit. To sit in presence, to resist the pull of distractions, is an act of great resilience. The calmness we seek in yoga is not a passive state of relaxation but a superior strength, born from inner mastery.

    The Discipline of Yoga

    At the very beginning, Patanjali emphasizes that yoga is not just a practice but a discipline. This distinction is essential. A practice can be casual or done intermittently, but discipline requires consistent effort, commitment, and focus. The word discipline itself conveys the idea of training, of shaping or controlling something to achieve a higher goal. In the context of yoga, this means training the mind to remain present and unaffected by distractions or fluctuations.

    Discipline in yoga is about developing the ability to observe the mind and body without becoming identified with them. It’s not an easy task—our minds are naturally restless, constantly moving from one thought to the next. This is where discipline comes in. The discipline of yoga requires us to cultivate patience, perseverance, and a dedication to returning to stillness, even when the mind resists.

    Patanjali’s use of the word anushasanam in Sutra 1.1 can be translated as “discipline” or “instruction,” highlighting that yoga is a structured and methodical path. To realize the ultimate goal of yoga—union with the true self—requires a discipline that integrates not only the physical body through postures (asanas) but, more importantly, the mind through meditation, mindfulness, and awareness.

    Why Discipline Matters in Yoga

    Discipline in yoga is the key to taming the fluctuations of the mind. It takes effort and intention to stop identifying with every passing thought or emotion. Through disciplined practice, we create a space between the mind’s activity and the true self, the Seer. This space allows us to witness the mind without being consumed by it. The goal of yoga, as Patanjali explains in Sutra 1.2, is to still the fluctuations of the mind so that we can experience the true self—the state of yoga, or union.Without discipline, the mind will continue to sway between desires, distractions, and doubts. It is through dedicated, disciplined practice that we train the mind to remain calm and present, allowing the deeper realization of yoga to unfold. Discipline doesn’t mean harshness or rigidity; rather, it means consistency and commitment. It is a steady return to the present moment, a steady return to the awareness of the Seer.

    In my own practice, I’ve come to realize that cultivating this calm presence is much like strengthening a muscle. Just as we go to the gym to build physical strength, we sit in practice to build the strength of awareness. Each time we resist the pull of thoughts and emotions, each time we gently return to the present moment, we are training ourselves in the discipline of yoga.

    It is important to approach this process with self-compassion. Too often, we judge ourselves for the mind’s restlessness. But just as we wouldn’t criticize a muscle for being weak before it’s been trained, we shouldn’t criticize the mind for its natural tendencies. Instead, we honor the effort it takes to stay still, to remain present.

    As we begin this journey through the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, we are reminded that yoga is not about perfection, but about practice. The fluctuations of the mind will always be there—it is our relationship to them that changes. Through consistent practice, we build the strength to calm the mind and experience the peace that lies beneath the surface.

    This is the beginning of the path, the first step in our exploration of Patanjali’s teachings. As we move forward, we will reflect on how these sutras can shape our lives and help us cultivate a deeper sense of awareness, peace, and purpose.

    Coming Up Next:
    In our next post, we will explore Sutras 1.3 and 1.4, which build upon this foundation of stillness. These sutras reveal what happens when the mind becomes still and how we experience our true nature. We will also look at what occurs when the mind remains caught in its fluctuations, giving rise to misperception. Join me as we continue this journey, moving deeper into the essence of yoga and self-realization.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Exploring the Origins of Thought: A Synthesis of Jung, Ramana Maharshi, Kabbalah, and Tibetan Buddhism

    In our journey to understand the nature of thoughts and the Self, we find ourselves drawing from the wisdom of various traditions—Jungian psychology, Vedanta as taught by Ramana Maharshi, the mystical insights of Kabbalah, and the profound teachings of Tibetan Buddhism. These perspectives, though rooted in different cultural and philosophical backgrounds, converge in fascinating ways, offering a profound understanding of where thoughts come from and where they go.

    The Self: A Jungian Perspective

    Carl Jung’s concept of the Self is expansive, encompassing both the conscious and unconscious aspects of the psyche. In Jungian thought, the Self is not just the sum of our conscious awareness but also includes the vast, often hidden, realm of the unconscious. Yet, Jung’s Self goes even further—it includes the totality of our being, which can be seen as connected to the divine. In this view, the Self is also God, the Infinite, the Eternal—encompassing everything, with nothing excluded.

    Ein Sof and the Infinite Source

    In Kabbalistic tradition, this concept of the Infinite is referred to as Ein Sof, meaning “without end.” Ein Sof represents the boundless, formless aspect of God, from which all creation emerges. It is the source of all existence, the primordial void from which thoughts and realities arise.

    When we combine this with Jung’s understanding, we see that thoughts can be considered as arising from Ein Sof—the infinite potential. They emerge from the stillness, the formless void, moving first into the unconscious mind. From there, they bubble up into conscious awareness, manifesting in a way that we can perceive and reflect upon.

    The Vedantic View: Ramana Maharshi on the Self

    Ramana Maharshi’s teachings on the Self resonate deeply with these ideas. He teaches that the true Self is pure awareness, beyond both the conscious and unconscious mind. The thoughts that arise within us, whether they seem to come from the unconscious or are immediately conscious, are all manifestations within this pure awareness.

    In Ramana’s framework, the conscious mind and the unconscious mind are both part of the egoic self—the sense of individual identity that is ultimately an illusion. However, by engaging in self-inquiry, we can trace our thoughts back to their true origin—the pure, infinite awareness that Ramana equates with the Self or Atman. This is the same awareness that Jung might refer to as the totality of the Self, and that Kabbalists understand as arising from Ein Sof.

    The Tibetan Buddhist Perspective: All Phenomena as Ornaments of the Dharmakaya

    Tibetan Buddhism offers a similar understanding but expresses it through the rich metaphor of the Dharmakaya, the truth body of the Buddha. According to these teachings, everything that arises—every thought, every perception, every experience—is an ornament of the Dharmakaya. This means that all phenomena are expressions of the ultimate reality, which is pure, unconditioned awareness or Buddha nature.

    There is a common saying in Tibetan Buddhism: “All phenomena are the ornaments of the Dharmakaya,” or “All sound is the sound of Dharma; all sight is the display of Dharma.” This view suggests that everything we perceive, everything we experience, is not separate from the ultimate reality but is a manifestation of it. Just as thoughts arise from and dissolve back into Ein Sof or the Self, in Tibetan Buddhism, they are seen as temporary displays of the Dharmakaya, arising from the vastness of Buddha nature.

    Buddha’s Enlightenment: Recognizing Mara as the Self

    This understanding is beautifully illustrated in the story of Buddha’s enlightenment under the Bodhi tree. As Siddhartha Gautama sat in deep meditation, Mara—the personification of illusion and desire—appeared to tempt him and distract him from his path to enlightenment. Mara represented all the fears, desires, and illusions that arise within the mind.

    However, instead of engaging with Mara as an external force, the Buddha recognized that Mara was not separate from himself. He famously said to Mara, “I know you. You are a creation of my own mind.” In that moment, by recognizing that Mara was merely a projection of his own thoughts, the Buddha disempowered Mara completely. Mara dissolved, and with that, Siddhartha Gautama achieved enlightenment, becoming the Buddha.

    This moment is a powerful example of self-realization. By recognizing that thoughts, desires, and fears are not external realities but manifestations of the mind, the Buddha transcended them. In the same way, we can see that our thoughts, no matter how powerful they may seem, arise from and dissolve back into the infinite Self, the ultimate reality.

    The Quantum Nature of Thought

    In many ways, this understanding is mirrored in the discoveries of quantum physics. Particles, which seem solid and real, are actually 99.99% empty space. They appear and disappear from the quantum field so rapidly that they seem solid and continuous, much like how thoughts arise and dissolve within our consciousness. The solidity of our thoughts—or indeed our reality—is an illusion, a fleeting manifestation from the infinite potential that is the true Self.

    Practical Application: Self-Inquiry and Meditation

    Understanding thoughts as arising from Ein Sof or as ornaments of the Dharmakaya, and recognizing them as internal projections like Mara, can profoundly inform our practice of self-inquiry and meditation. When a thought arises, we can trace it back, not just through the layers of consciousness and unconsciousness but beyond, into the infinite source. This practice can help us see the impermanence and illusory nature of thoughts and, by extension, of the ego itself.

    Through this inquiry, we can begin to experience the Self not just as a concept but as a living reality—the infinite awareness from which all arises and to which all returns.

    Conclusion

    This synthesis of Jungian psychology, Ramana Maharshi’s Vedanta, Kabbalistic mysticism, Tibetan Buddhism, and the story of Buddha’s enlightenment offers a rich, multifaceted understanding of the nature of thought and the Self. It invites us to see beyond the surface of our thoughts and experiences, recognizing them as temporary manifestations of the infinite. Whether through self-inquiry, meditation, or contemplation of these ideas, we are invited to explore the deeper reality of the Self—an exploration that can lead to profound spiritual awakening and insight.

    🙏🕊️🙏