2024
The Paradox of Practice (2024)
Originally published in German in the magazine Yoga-Fachverband aktuell
Listen closely, for I wish to share a secret that many on the so-called spiritual “path” seem to have forgotten. There is, in fact, nothing to do, nothing to achieve, nowhere to go, no goal, and indeed no path at all. Not only this, but often the practice itself, and the effort it entails, is precisely that which can hinder the very state which we seek. This is the great paradox which has been a source of much confusion and misunderstanding, even among many sincere practitioners of Yoga; namely, that effort and practice are on the one hand often important and necessary, especially at the beginning, yet on the other hand, effort is precisely that which inhibits the very state we seek, and at some point it must be dropped. Let us examine this paradox more closely in the context of the Yogic teachings.
According to the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, the only real “problem” and the primary cause of suffering and bondage, is that of identification. The “seer,” or Purusha, has mistakenly identified with the mind/body/sense-organ complex: “The correlation (or union) between the seer (i.e. Purusha) and the seen (i.e. Prakriti) is the cause of suffering which is to be overcome.” (Sutra II.17)
This is a very important point to grasp, not only intellectually, but on a deeper, non-conceptual level: you are already free, enlightened, awake (or whatever term you wish to use), for this is your very essence as Purusha, and it cannot possibly be otherwise. Thus any “progress” inwardly or psychologically is progress within the realm of Prakriti, i.e. the conceptual world of thought and thinking. And the solution to the problem cannot be an act of effort, which implies a doer (composed of thought) but rather knowledge, or insight (Vidya or Prajna).
Sutras I.2, I.3, and I.4, arguably the most important and cogent aphorisms in the entire Sutras, succinctly define the state of Yoga and illustrate this point:
Yoga is the stilling of the fluctuations of citta (consciousness). (I.2)
Then, the Seer abides in its essence. (I.3)
Otherwise, the Seer takes itself to be the fluctuations of citta. (I.4)
The seer (Purusha) - not the body/mind/sense-organ complex - is who you really are, and the purpose of both Yoga and Samkhya is to ultimately abide in this realization. All you need to do is to stop thinking (citta-vrtti-nirodhah), and this self-evident truth will reveal itself. Simple, right?
Unfortunately, not: for to practice non-thinking or make an effort not to think is, of course, ridiculous and asinine, as the one who makes the effort not to think is itself part of the structure of thought. To illustrate this point, just close your eyes for 10 seconds and try hard not to think of a white bear.
Thus we find ourselves in a dilemma.
Einstein famously stated: "We cannot solve our problems with the same level of thinking that created them." From the Yogic perspective, we could go further and state: we cannot escape from a prison created by thought by thinking (or struggling) our way out of it.
In the outer, physical world, which is governed by time, thinking and effort is of course necessary to achieve anything, whether it be building a house, learning a language, getting to your Yoga class on time, or improving your Trikonasana or downward dog pose. Perhaps this is the reason why we fall for the myth of “progress” on the psychological/spiritual level and subsequently get caught up in so-called “self-improvement” and trying to become more “spiritual”. Thought / ego is definition fundamentally separate from that state which is beyond all concepts and which is alluded to in all the mystical traditions, including Yoga. Once we truly see this fact, any effort or attempt to “make the prison of the thought-world more beautiful or more comfortable”, to borrow J. Krishnamurti’s description, simply falls away on its own. Indeed, seeking altogether falls away, as it becomes clear that that which one has been seeking is none other than what one already is and always has been, and any effort away from “what is” inherently creates friction and conflict - or to use the term from Yoga, “Vrittis”.
Yet the workings of Ego are very subtle and tricky, especially when it wants something. And it is always wanting something, as that is its very nature; indeed, its very substance and sustenance is desire and fear (essential for survival but problematic on the psycho-spiritual level). The tragic irony is that ego then tries to hijack what it regards as the “project” of waking up / enlightenment, seeing it as something to be achieved, not realizing that this would necessarily entail its own destruction.
To quote the Tibetan Buddhist teacher Chögyam Trungpa:
“Self-deception is a constant problem as we progress along a spiritual path. Ego is always trying to achieve spirituality. It is rather like wanting to witness your own funeral.”
As a side-note, the very word “enlightenment” is an unfortunate and misleading term, originating from the 18th and 19th centuries. In Sanskrit, the word is in fact Bodhi, which comes from the root word “budh”: “to wake up.” Just as waking up out of a dream does requires neither practice nor effort, and does not require you to journey away from where you began, so it is in Yoga. The entire “journey” - if one can even call it that - is none other than a journey home: right here, right now. Again, that which you seek is none other than what you already are, but have simply forgotten, clouded by the veils of Maya, the great illusion, as it is known in Vedanta.
And so now we come to the logical question: “what, then, is the role of Abhyasa / Sadhana (practice), which generally implies the making of effort?” Here we may quote a modern Buddhist teacher: “enlightenment is an accident, but practice makes one more accident-prone.”
Thus on the one hand, practice and effort, especially if done mechanically and without the awareness of the fact that what are seeking is really none other than the ability to be fully and completely present, can potentially be a great hindrance. However, if done with deep awareness and insight, which leads us to fully embrace the present moment, it can create an important framework, within which the ideal conditions for this “accident” of awakening to occur can unfold.
Inwardly, the real “practice” is Svadhyaya, one of the five Niyamas as well as one of the three pillars of Patanjali’s Kriya Yoga. Svadhyaya is the study of the ego and is movements in everyday life and in relationship: relationship with animate and inanimate objects, with other people, with one’s own body, etc. Especially at the beginning, for the untrained mind, it takes practice and effort to bring the attention back to the here and now and to honestly observe the ego in relationship, which is often uncomfortable. However, this is not the typical effort which is exerted in order to accomplish something or to get from point A to point B; it is an “effort” to simply remain in the present moment, and allow whatever may come up to come. At a deeper and even more refined level, even this effort is seen to stand in the way and thus falls away. Then the only real “practice” is that of, as Krishnamurti often termed it, “choiceless awareness”, that is, observation without any effort, judgement or motive. This is the “practice” of Svadhyaya in everyday living.
Svadhyaya, in turn, leads to complete clarity regarding the question “who am I?” - this most fundamental and perennial question, with which all of the various schools of Indian philosophy have concerned themselves. In this state of non-effort, non-judgement, and non-inward-movement, ones true nature as Purusha/Atman becomes apparent.
This true understanding of who “I” am is known in Yoga and Vedanta as Vidya, or Brahma Vidya. In the Yoga Sutras, its opposite, Avidya, is considered to be the “mother” of all the other four Kleshas (causes of suffering); meaning, if Avidya is eradicated, then the other Kleshas (Asmita, Raga, Dvesa, and Abhinivesa) cannot “germinate.” (Sutra II.4)
Here let us turn to one of the other great texts which deals with the topic of Yoga: the Bhagavad Gita. Indeed, the central teaching the Bhagavad Gita is that of Brahma Vidya, the fundamental realization that you are not this body/mind/sense-organ complex, and thus “You” can “do” anything nor make any effort, just as “You” were never born and cannot die.
As Sri Krishna states in Verses 5.8 - 5.9:
"A person who knows the truth, engaged in action thinks, 'I am doing nothing at all.' While seeing, hearing, touching, smelling, eating, going, sleeping, breathing, speaking, releasing, seizing, opening, and closing the eyes, convinced that only the senses are engaged with their objects."
Thus with Vidya the “problem” of effort resolves itself naturally, as it becomes clear that one is not the body/mind/sense-organ complex, but rather its inhabitant, the Purusha / Atman, which by definition does not and cannot make any effort whatsoever. At this point, action is still performed and effort is made, as the physical world, governed by time and progress, will demand us to act, but there is completely clarity that the real “I” is not doing anything, nor can it ever do anything.
This now brings us to the practical question for those of us who practice Hatha Yoga, i.e., Asana and Pranayama: how does this all apply to one’s Yoga practice? One may logically ask: with this insight and understanding, what is the correct way to approach the practice of various bodily positions, breathing exercises, and meditation, all of which require effort on the physical level?
First of all, just as you keep your house clean and your car in good working-condition, but do not make the mistake of believing that you are the car or the house, so it is that we keep our gross and subtle body healthy, all the while knowing that you are only its inhabitant and any practice has no effect whatsoever on the real “You”. When Vidya is present, the impulse to keep the vehicle of the body healthy, clean, and strong is naturally there (ultimately in order to serve others, but this is another discussion). When this vehicle is healthy, free of disease and not in physical pain, and when the Prana is balanced and correctly and unobstructedly flowing through the Nadis, then the conditions are much better for the mind to be in a meditative state and for Vidya / Prajna to come into being - that is, for the “accident” of awakening to occur. However, we must also not forget that simply clearing the subtle body and increasing our power and vitality through the practice of Asana and Pranayama are not sufficient to truly wake up, or even to live an ethical life. An example from Indian mythology is that of Ravana, the great villain of the Ramayana, who attained his powers to do harm through his practice of Yoga.
Thus, again, it all comes down to Vidya, or correct understanding / knowledge of who “I” really am. If one practices Asana with absolute clarity that “the body is making effort, which is necessary for it to grow stronger, maintain its health, and keep the Prana flowing, but ‘I’ am in fact doing nothing other than observing”, then there is no problem. In addition, when the mind is quiet and one can observe the body and the senses engaged in Asana and Pranayama, (i.e. one is in a meditative state), then these practices become an ideal opportunity to be fully present and make one more “accident prone” - for the present moment is the only place where the “accident” of awakening can occur. However, if one practices with distraction, without being completely present, then the practice cannot really be called “Yoga.” Similarly, if we sit for meditation and let the mind run wild and indulge in fantasy, it is not really meditation, even though for an outside observer it may look as though we are meditating.
And let us also not forget joy, bliss (Ananda), which of course cannot be practiced, but is “tasted” when one is completely present and absorbed in the practice. Even while Asana may be physically demanding and difficult, and the body has to make tremendous effort, to nonetheless practice with joy is essential, as in this way one comes in touch with one’s own true nature, which is Ananda. As Shiva, depicted as Nataraja, the cosmic dancer, is simultaneously dancing in ecstasy and remaining completely still, so it should be when we practice. It is an opportunity to explore and enjoy the vehicle of the body and the senses, all the while knowing full well that it is only a vehicle and You are the driver. As Patanjali states in Sutra II.18, the phenomenal world (which includes the body) serves the dual purpose of enjoyment (Bhoga) and emancipation (Apavarga).
As far as the practical specifics of Asana practice are concerned: Asanas which are more conducive to this end are the simpler, less complicated Asanas, in which one can remain for a longer period of time, if necessary with the support of props, which are a wonderful gift and contribution by Sri B.K.S. Iyengar for deepening one’s practice and enabling us to more easily enter this meditative state of deep presence. Classically, an Asana is a “steady, comfortable position” (Sutra 2.46) which is held for a longer period of time and in which little movement occurs, with the purpose of cultivating the conditions for Samadhi / awakening to occur. This is much more difficult while doing fast movements or when one is struggling in a complicated position.
Ideal Asanas to this end are, for instance, standing poses such as Tadasana, Trikonasana, and Parsva Konasana, Supine poses such as Supta Padangusthasana and Supta Virasana, all seated poses and forward bends, and the primary inversions headstand and shoulderstand. And - last but not least - Savasana, in which ideally all effort completely drops away. Indeed, this is precisely why Savasana is often called the most difficult pose of all to master: as we have elucidated in the above discussion, the mind, by its very nature, wants to act, to solve problems, to make effort, to practice, and this is precisely what must drop away in Savasana. Thus one’s practice, or Sadhana, creates a framework in which deep presence can unfold, Ananda can be tasted, and the ground can be made fertile for an “accident” to occur.
And so we see that the paradox of practice and effort challenges our usual notions of doing and being, effort and dedication. By clearly understanding the role of effort and non-effort, we prepare the ground for that moment of awakening where the true Self emerges, unobstructed and effulgent. By reconciling the apparent contradictions of practice and non-practice, effort and ease, the ideal conditions for awakening are created: a state of pure, effortless being where the dance of consciousness unfolds with natural grace. Here, in the sacred space beyond effort, lies the ultimate freedom - the deep realization that we are and have always been exactly what we seek.
